[Panel 1]
[Bell]
Panic! Disaster!
[Nils]
What's up?
[Bell]
There's a dead mouse
on the steps outside.
[Nils]
Did your cat get it, then?
[Panel 2]
[Bell]
It's not my cat! And
it didn't look damaged.
[Nils]
Well, meeces do die
eventually, you know.
[Bell]
But they're not MEANT to! They're
supposed to just go on being
about the place, like woodlice.
[Panel 3]
[Nils]
Even woodlice die. Usually
inside sealed light-fittings.
I fear you may be asking a little
much of our friend mus musculus.
[Bell]
I know I am. But I'm still miffed.
[Nils]
There will be other mice.
[Bell]
I'm sure there already are.
[Panel 4]
[Bell]
But how could they ever
match Old, er, Greyshanks?
[Nils]
You see, it's not as if
[Elizabeth]
# singing
...let down your people, Mouseita
You were supposed to have been immortal
That's all they wanted, not much to ask for...
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