Dangermouse-The Pen Is Mightier




Disclaimer: Dangemouse (2015) and all trademarked characters are property of Fremantle Media and CBBC.

Penfold got up in the midst of early morning still wearing his princess attire from the activities of the day before.

He didn’t want to change clothes just yet.

He felt too pretty.

And he needed that feeling.

Because he couldn’t bear to confront the ugly underneath.

He had risked it all to save London from a perilous pink dawn.

A wise sage once said ‘Too much pink energy is dangerous’

He wasn’t sure if that was from ancient text or Saturday morning television.

He and DM had managed to diminish that energy before it could manifest worldwide.

The fight had taken a lot out of them, DM still couldn’t quite shake the stench that had emitted from the pony that belonged to the prickly Princess, a conceited and spoiled child who had, as a result of a mishap involving her tiara and one of Professor Sqauwkencluck’s inventions, become a serious threat to national security and even commonplace male pride and dignity.

Still, a woman’s touch was never without flare. It always livened things up. It could always elevate your mood, no matter the weather.

And in saving the day, Penfold and DM felt most fine indeed. Nothing really dampened their spirits when dressed to impress.

Penfold only wished the woman with this magic touch had been a bit more concerned with him rather than her possessions.

This was the second time Squawkencluck had shown more compassion and empathy with things that she owned or had created. It happened in Tokyo also, when her artificial chip was placed in his trust and he let it slip from his hands.

When it was recovered successfully, she called it her ‘baby’ and lavished it with kisses.

Today, after another mishap in the lab, Sqauwkencluck had been awash with concern, thinking she had almost lost something priceless.

Turned out it was her pen.

Penfold’s heart sank there and then.

When Squawkencluck used her makeover skills to prepare him and DM for their infiltration of the Princess’ mansion, Penfold used his conversion as a shield, to hide the hurt he’d been feeling. Of the notion, the evidence, that pen was mightier.

And then he froze in his tracks down the long and gloomy corridors of H.Q that stretched from his bedroom to the executive washroom.

There she was.

Not wearing her glasses, her long layers of hair down, and wearing a bright vest and stripy pyjama bottoms, a small night cap over her head, the Professor gently rubbed her eyes and greeted Penfold

“Hey Penfold” she said.

“What are you doing up?” asked Penfold

“Bit of a habit, care to watch?” invited Squawkencluck

“Lead the way” said Penfold.

The pair entered Sqauwkencluck’s lab and hopped on top of the elevator pad that rose upwards and climbed several stories. The manhole positioned just at the very front of the pavement slab that was home to the letterbox H.Q of the secret service opened and permitted them access to the great land above.

A quiet street. Scarce traffic.

The only signs of life were milkmen, mailmen, and paper delivery antelopes, all on their early bird routines.

And in the Professor’s case, the routine fit her role.

“Sun’s just about up” she said.

“Professor…I…um…hope you had fun yesterday” said Penfold.

“Oh that I did Penfold. But don’t tell DM I said that” the Professor requested.

“Yes, you were awfully persistent you didn’t have fun ,why was that?” asked Penfold, “I mean, you’ve shown us you DO like to have fun, remember when he broke into your lab to look after that plant and you called him from that concert…”

“Yes, well, that was a different sort of enjoyment…you’ll find I was dressed like a real tomboy” explained the Professor, “Yesterday was the first time I got a chance to be a real girl, I relished it. It shows I should put more concern into my appearance than actual things”

“Maybe put more concern into people while you’re at it” insisted Penfold.

Sqauwkencluck looked at him, and put one arm on his shoulder, “Penfold, if this about the pen incident…I’m sorry about that…it’s a bit of a coping mechanism I have. It’s part and parcel with my professionalism. I can’t get too close to the people I work with; the risk is so great, so I put all that concern into things I know can’t instil any fear in me whatsoever. Whenever I do that with a pen, or a chip, it’s done to…”

She cut herself off.

“Nah, I think I’ve said too much, I’m not firing on all cylinders this morning. Once the dawn breaks and I do my thing I ought to be ready to face the day”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” asked a curious Penfold.

“Oh you know, a little girl-to-girl natters, and you’re still dressed for the occasion” she said, giggling, “And may I say, my Pen, you look on-point”

Penfold blushed, “Nobody’s ever called me Pen before…wait, does that mean…?”

“Shush now” said Sqauwkencluck, “The dawn is breaking”

“Let one rip Professor” Penfold said, now clued in to what was about to transpire.

Squawkencluck stretched out her arms, put her hands together, cracked her knuckles, breathed in, and let out a dynamic and deafening cockle-doodle doo that resonated across the London landscape.

Penfold, both fingers inserted into his ears, was relieved to find the pitch wasn’t so high in frequency that it could shatter his glasses.

Just as he was now felt more and more assured the Professor couldn’t break his heart.