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Danger Mouse-‘Till The Cows Come Home

DANGER MOUSE:

TILL THE COWS COME HOME

Disclaimer: Danger Mouse (2015) and all trademarked characters are property of Fremantle Media and CBBC


Is that wicked Weevil gone?

“Yes, narrator” said DM.

Really? You promise?

“My word is my bound” assured DM.

Good.

Now that it’s safe to come out again, let me be the first to congratulate you, the reader, on surviving the relentless mystical onslaught of the Queen of the Weevils with the rest of us. That witch was a handful, oh if only I hadn’t been narrating that flashback, she may never have been imprisoned in the first place.

“Yes, but if this Dangerous Muppet over here hadn’t reassembled the crystal she had been trapped in, she wouldn’t have gotten out” replied a very badly tempered Professor Squawkencluck.

“Let’s be reasonable people about this Professor, there’s always two sides to every story” said DM.

“Yeah, and you’re the type who’s stories always stick out at the sides” noted the Professor sarcastically.

“At least the whole experience made a believer out of you right Chief?” said DM’s trusty assistant Penfold.

“He’ll believe in a whole different sort of world than that of magic once he looks into my eyes and asks me an honest question…whatever happened to my Conveniantium handcuffs?” asked Squawkencluck, her face glowing a crimson red.

“Ah yes, I was just getting to that, I wouldn’t want you to be cheesed off Professor” joked DM.

“Now’s not the time to play the clown Chief, you already did that on Monday remember?” said Penfold, trying to calm the Professor’s nerves by taking her red hot hand and dampening it with a cold wet sponge.

“Yes, well Professor, all I can ask you to do is wait until I’ve prepared a full and reasonably logical answer”

“You had until the cows came home” said the Professor, “That was Tuesday. This little crisis aside, you’re out of time, and I’m just about to nip over to the Baron’s cell and ask him directly what happened to the handcuffs”

“Look, why don’t I make both of you some piping hot cups of Tetley Tea?” asked Penfold.

“Product placement now Penfold?” said DM.

“At least products know their place” snapped Squawkencluck

“Oh crumbs Chief, can’t you two ever get along?” replied a frustrated Penfold, folding his arms and tilting his head up and frowning.

“Are you turning your nose up at us?” asked DM.

“Never mind, I’ve got it” said Squawkencluck, and pinched Penfold’s nose with her right hand.

Penfold instantly embarked on a panicked dash across the room, wondering just where his nose had gotten to, still unable to comprehend that it was still attached to his face.

Squawkencluck allowed her eyes to roll over at the sad sight in front of her.

DM, however, could detect she was enjoying it.

“I couldn’t help but notice how playful you were with Penfold today Professor” DM observed.

“Don’t push those buttons DM, we’re all professionals here, I have little time for opening up in that way around you, him, or anyone” said Squawkencluck.

“You saw fit to tell us about your fear of clowns, so that disproves that” said DM.

“Ok, so I like to pick on Penfold, at least he’s more amusing than the everyday migraine I get from you. Satisfied?” asked the Professor as she walked over to Penfold.

“Very, now are you going to reattach his nose?” asked DM.

“Are you going to tell me where my handcuffs are?” asked the Professor.

“I’d rather milk that for all it’s worth” said DM.

“You’re trying to give me clues to the explanation in your jokes aren’t you?” asked the Professor, gently pulling Penfold close to her and placing her hand on his nose, giving Penfold the illusion of having restored it.

“I should never underestimate your powers Professor” said Penfold.

“And I should not underestimate how impeccably skilled your best friend is at evading the simplest questions” said Squawkencluck

“Professor, I think that’s udderly ridiculous” said DM.

Suddenly, the holographic projection of Col. K illuminated the room.

“We’ve got dire problems DM, there’s been a looting at a Turkey airport”

“Don’t you mean Turkish airport Colonel?” asked DM.

“No, a Turkey airport, one of the species-specific terminals that just opened up in the city, we need you to get back their valuables”

“I’m on it Chief” said DM, promptly darting out of the room.

Before Penfold joined him, he gave the Professor a thumbs up.

“Next time we have a conversation, he’d better not be talking turkey” said the Professor.

“It’s probably for the best you take away the source of his sense of smell if you smell something very fishy” said Penfold.

“You know, Penfold, you don’t have to take my magic tricks at face value” replied the Professor.

“Then where does the fun go in magic if you don’t embrace the illusion as if it were reality?” asked Penfold, “You can take my nose any day, because I trust that your helping hand will put it right back where it belongs”

With that, Penfold dashed out of the room after the Chief, leaving Squawkencluck feeling much better.

In the meantime, I, your humble narrator, am glad the evil Weevil Queen has been sealed off and placed within the badge attached to DM’s whimsically white attire.

I’ve seen worse places she could have ended up in.

It could have been a Blue Peter badge.

Danger Mouse-Danger At C Level (Fanedit)

Time for some more fanediting fun.

You’ve seen plenty of fanfiction from me in the past several months about¬†this show, some of you may be familiar with it, but for those who aren’t…well, consider this your “in”

Danger Mouse is one of those truly unique success stories…a British cartoon that’s just as legendary in the States as it is in the UK, courtesy of being aired in the infancy of Nickelodeon back in the 80s (it’s later spin-off, Count Duckula, would gain equal f not greater fame), and now with it’s 2015 revival, it aims to hit the spot with a whole new generation when it eventually makes it over to¬†Netflix.

For the time being, it can be seen on early mornings on the CBBC channel, and the first few episodes have made it to DVD…which brings us to this short edit, as it comes shortly after my purchase of that DVD.

Not much has been altered for this episode of DM, I shaved off barely a minute after the title card and added in the opening act of the pilot episode as a pre-credits teaser.

 

Danger Mouse-A Dagger to Her Mind

 

DANGER MOUSE:

A DAGGER TO HER MIND

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

Disclaimer: Danger Mouse (2015) and all trademarked characters are property of Fremantle Media and CBBC


The world has just been granted a pardon.

Yes, you heard right, you do the crime, you do the time.

Even I, your humble narrator, found himself singing jailbird blues.

But nobody felt as low as the genius responsible for the planetary lockdown.

Professor Professor Squawkencluck, who, at this very moment, is in the midst of filing a report to the World’s Greatest Science Council.

“My fellow scientists, it is with deep regret that I report on the latest setback in project Days Off, the initiative set up to relieve the Danger Agency of unendurable stress levels and overworked hours. The cause of the setback was once again…once again…oh I can’t do it”

She closed the laptop.

The door to her lab slid open and Penfold, assistant to the greatest secret agent in the agency, Danger Mouse, arrived with toast and a cup of tea in each hand.

“And just what are you doing in here Penfold?” said an irritated Squawkencluck.

“I was wondering if you’d care for some bread and egg” Penfold said.

“I don’t see an egg” the Professor noted.

“I was hoping you’d help with that, you are a chicken after all” Penfold replied.

Squawencluck felt her blood levels rise; she got out of her seat and towered over the terrified hamster.

“Oh, I see, you haven’t quite come down from mount unpleasant” he observed, “Don’t worry Professor, I can relate”

“Oh you can?” Squawkencluck said in a snarky tone.

“Yeah, all that time in prison caused me to search my very soul” Penfold explained, ” It got me to open things up to the Chief that I hadn’t ever told anyone…about my great crime in days of my youth, like borrowing that pencil and never returning it…keeping it with me, like a dagger close to my chest. Oh how it crushed me, every day where I felt ever so slightly upbeat, I’d end up cursing my own enthusiasm because there was always that low point of my life beating as loudly as my heart.”

“But then Danger Mouse used the pencil to trap Big Head in a logistical trap , causing her to overload, explode, and liberate us…your particular pencil problem proved to be a dagger to her mind” Squawkencluck noted.

Penfold permitted himself a meek smile, “The Chief always knows how to relief me of my burdens, and he always teaches me an important lesson in using what mistakes we make in the past to create fresh solutions for the future”

“That’s something I’ve got to learn myself…I’ve been reluctant to tell the council about my latest failure with Big Head, but I realize if I don’t open up about it, we won’t learn how to correct the faults in the next model”

“The next model?” a flabbergasted Penfold asked, “You mean, after all this, you’re just going to rebuild her again?”

“I will not be frustrated by failure Penfold, I’ll keep working at Big Head until we’re finally able to keep her under control” a stubborn Squawkencluck insisted.

“Well, if anything I’m impressed at how much faith you have in yourself, especially with the way you acted once you were incarcerated” Penfold noted, recalling the rather depressing sight of Squwkencluck despairing at Big Head’s malfunction and tyrannical prison system, a system that had sapped the courage and willpower out of virtually all except Danger Mouse.

“I was thinking about my mum and dad the whole time, that’s why” Squawkencluck revealed, “If they knew their daughter had been locked away with all of the other petty filth that plagued this planet, the shock of that would have crushed them…then it got worse when I realized my parents were probably locked away for that incident with the garbage monster, you know the one”

“Oh yes” Penfold said, recalling when the Professor’s mother had transformed her own husband into a grimy, murky and monstrous being that had reduced most of London to literal waste.

“Never mind Professor” Penfold replied, trying to spin the conversation back towards a positive note, “Maybe learning nothing at all from your experiences somehow inspires you to aim for bigger and better solutions”

“You think so?” the Professor asked.

“Sure. Your mum wanted to turn your dad invisible the next time, that doesn’t seem like it’d harm anybody else and what else could Big Head do that could top incarcerating everyone and everything? How do you step it up from there? You’re itching to find out aren’t you? That’s what this agency demands of its members every day…raw ambition”

Squawkencluck knelt down and gave Penfold a big hug.

“You think so big for someone your size…do me a favour and never curse that enthusiasm of yours again” she said, squeezing him tightly.

“You got it…Squawky” Penfold said, grasping for air.

“Ok, only I call myself that, for that, you owe me the toast” she said, grabbing the toast off the plate, eating a portion of it, and tossing the crumbs into the bin.

“How about I go get you that egg? At least one out of the refrigerator” Squawkencluck offered. Penfold gleefully nodded, and, arm in arm, they exited the room and headed towards the Agency cafeteria.

 

 

Dangermouse-A Day Reserved For Magic

DANGERMOUSE:

A DAY RESERVED FOR MAGIC

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

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


Christmas Day. London.

In the wake of a dicey dance with the cold colossus The Snowman, Penfold and Dangermouse have settled down in their may fare mailbox to share with one another the gift of giving. DM had been a generous spirit all day, being mindful of both the poor and the privileged.

He’d even given Tiny Tim an armed defence crutch. Armed with high explosives to fend off any foreboding foe that attempts to take advantage of a spy when injured.

He just forgot to tell Tim how to disarm the explosives.

Then again, the gift was’nt intended for Tim, but for Penfold.

Penfold, who was all a glow at the realization he had not gotten anything that could bring his enjoyment of Christmas down with a bang and then a bit of whimpering from him as he suffered the aftershock of dealing with a dangerous gift.

As he tried his warm, woollen cotton socks on, Penfold noticed poor Father Christmas struggling with the list of demands given to him by Professor Squawkencluck.

“Say, Santa, don’t be glum, I’ll take that list off your hands and help pay it off if you want” Penfold suggested.

“Ho ho ho, you are a helpful little Elf” said Santa, “If you can pull this off, you may be in line for chief aid”

Penfold clapped his hands wildly at that, only to be kicked in the shin by Santa’s cheif aid.

“Hey, cut that out, the crisis is over” said Penfold.

“You’re not nicking my job in a hurry you merrily mole” replied the irritated elf.

“Hamster” said Penfold, “I’m a hamster”

“Mess with me, and you’ll find I’m no spring chick” she said, nipping at Penfold’s toes with her beak.

Penfold scrambled behind Professor Squawkencluck out of concern for her safety.

“What are you doing behind me you big Jessie?” said Squawkencluck as the elf converged on Penfold

“‘Sick ’em, attack, defend” commanded Penfold.

“What do you think I am? A henpecker?” she said

“Well you’ve got the beak for it” said Penfold

“Oh you know me so well” sarcastically replied Squawkencluck.

“Look are you going to rise to my defence or not?” asked Penfold.

“Well, it is Christmas after all” she said, and began circling the elf, pecking holes in the floor. Swiftly and suddenly, the floor gave way, the elf remained suspended in the air for a fraction of a second for the type of comical effect found abundant in animation, before being pulled down by the laws of gravity.

The Professor dusted off both her hands and gently rubbed her beak.

“Whew, chipping away at the that floor can leave a beak feeling pretty bleak” said Squawkencluck.

Santa handed Penfold her list and then dived down the gaping hole in the floor to collect his elf before she hit the floor.

“Penfold, you’re going to take care of my list?” The Professor observed

“I’m not so secret a Santa am I?” replied Penfold.

“I don’t know…you make yourself to be a lot of things…” the Professor continued

“Really?” asked Penfold

“Sure…a spectacle of yourself, a target of yourself…” she began, until she noticed Penfold’s head, his expression highlighting a look of sure sadness about it.

“Hey, hey don’t be glum, despite making yourself look all those things, you always have the strength to face up to them as well, you’re honest about yourself, even to a frank degree, I’m like that too, though I come across as more cross than you are about those things. I envy how you can bottle that in at the best of times” the Professor continued, her compliments raising a tender smile out of the little agent.

“You’re a real champ Professor”

“Just tell me one thing though…why do you always get me a hair-dryer?” Squawkencluck asked

“Well, I…oh it’s nothing…it’s just…” Penfold began, but nerves began to overtake him.

“It’s got something to do with my appearance. A girl can afford to be flattered you know” the Professor said, urging him on

“It’s…well, yeah it’s kind of that. I always like to picture you with your hair down and you using something we’ve given you to make you look better and brighter every morning, no matter what mood you’re in, which is normally all feisty and ferocious, it’s nice to know that while you’re projecting fear into us, you spend those first few hours every morning bringing out the best in yourself…gives us something to think about”

Sqawkencluck gave Penfold a nod and a reassuring smile, placing one hand over his forehead and stroking cit, losing her eyes briefly as she took all those words in.

“Pr-Professor? You ok?” said Penfold as her hands slowly ruffled through him.

“You know…forget that list Penfold, you can get me the same thing every year” she said.

“Cor, thanks Professor, say, why did you reckon Santa wasn’t real?” asked Penfold.

“I didn’t want to think there was magic in the world…I’m a scientist, I always have to rationalize everything, to let logic take hold over ludicrous realization of fantasy…guess it’s a silly thing to think, especially around a day reserved for magic”

“I’m glad you’ve realized that” Penfold, clutching her hand, “You shouldn’t deprive yourself of the magic, in order for that to come, you have to make time for those moments”

The two stood where they were, transfixed in a precious moment of time, staring lovingly into one another’s gaze, each hoping one would make the move on the other without having to wait for the descent of mistletoe.

The alarms suddenly went off, DM sprang forward to answer the call as Col. K and his brightly lit Christmas jumper disrupted the moment.

“Penfold, Dangermouse, you must scramble immediately, those rouges Greenback, Loocifer, Duckula and the rest are threatening to tarnish the next 24 hours by staging a real boxing match between all of them on Boxing Day, get that group separated ASAP” the Colonel commanded.

“On our way Col.K, come along Penfold, and don’t stop for Christmas punch, we have to halt the literal kind from coming to pass” ordered Dangermouse.

“Heh, don’t want to get punch drunk then” Penfold said nervously to Squwakencluck.

“Another time?” said Squawkencluck

“Another moment in time…I’ll be ready” said Penfold.

“…Ready…to believe” replied Squawkencluck.

Disengaging from their grip on one another’s hands, Penfold and Dangermouse dashed into certain danger.

“Be safe” said Squawkencluck, waving to them as they darted into the Mark IV hovering outside and speeding off into the snowy skyline.

Dangermouse-Jeopardy on the M-1

 

DANGERMOUSE:

JEOPARDY ON THE M-1

Written by Zarius

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


London.

It’s on fire.

A great fire indeed.

A great fire…of LONDON.

I’m paid to be this dramatic.

A new fangled super tank, a gift to the militaristic “men of mice” regiment in service to her majesty’s external defence network, with an impenetrable control dome shaped in the form of a mouse’s head, and christened the M-1, has been appropriated by that tyrant of a toad Baron Greenback, and is being piloted by the nefarious Snowman, and he is unleashing it’s unique and lethally irritable firepower on any monument that falls upon it’s targeting mechanisms.

Why the Snowman and not someone like, say, Stiletto?

Because it’s December, Snowman has offered up a discount price on his services as a principle antagonist.

It’s a winter sale.

I don’t write these puns, I just throw that out there.

But opposing the warpath of the M-1 is the world’s greatest road block, at the helm of the Mark Three as it darts across the sky is the world’s most insecure sidekick Penfold, and at his side, the ever-confident, ever cool, forever renowned…Jeopardy Mouse.

Hey, wait a second, my script said DANGERMOUSE a couple of rehearsals ago. Jeopardy, what is the meaning of this?

“DM’s locked up in bed. He has the sniffles”

Ah right, my apologies Penfold. Shall we cut away to him then?

“Best not to disturb him, he’ll just play up to the cameras”

This isn’t exactly a visual story Penfold.

“Oh it’s not? Well, he might put in a bit of an over dramatic word then if he hears us rambling”

“Penfold, I need you to take the wheel” said Jeopardy as she disembarked from the car in mid-flight, Penfold franticly scrambled into the driver’s seat as Jeopardy made her way over to the bonnet of the vehicle

“What’s the plan Chiefette?” said Penfold as the Mark III steadily hurtled towards the terrifying tank

“Cheifette? Just call me boss, it helps keep things clear” said Jeopardy, “And the plan is to get close enough to attach this DNA locking device to the outer shell, I then place my palm on it, the DNA overrides the security lock, and we can get it and drive the Snowman to meltdown”

“Wait, how did Snowman even get in that thing?” said Penfold.

“It was during a lunch break, he poised as an ice cream refreshment” said Jeopardy.

“Oh” said Penfold

As the Mark Three rapidly approached its target, Jeopardy fired a grappling hook; it latched on to the exterior shell. She quickly jumped on to the grappling wire feet first and slid down it.

As soon as she landed, she approached the side of the control dome. However, from hatches encircling it, shot forth small alphabetical letters, that, when they clicked into place, formed a sentence.

BOOM.

Explosions were set up as soon as they formed the word.

Jeopardy thankfully was able to doge the blasts.

Penfold was almost not so fortunate, as the words assembled ‘Dangermouse’, the mark three pulled up just in time as the giant logo exploded.

“Crumbs, why did it form the name of the chief” Penfold spoke over the radio to Jeopardy.

“Must be the Men of Mice’s way of honouring DM with a customized explosive” said Jeopardy, “How I wish such an accolade could be bestowed on me, especially since I’m more of a pro”

Smaller letters continued to click into place, trigging cataclysmic explosions that were truly testing the patience and perseverance of the American agent, but she was able to gut the experience out. She took to summersaults, rolls, and ducking to avoid becoming soup to the alphabet.

Finally, she was able to latch the DNA lock on to the control dome and placed her hand on it. The dome glowed brightly, and the top of the dome sprang open.

Jeopardy clambered inside and confronted Snowman, only to find a puddle in the command seat.

“Must be a faulty air conditioner” she said, and scooped up the Snowman’s liquid state in a small glass.

“Jeopardy, are you ok?” Penfold said over the radio as Jeopardy brought the tank to a standstill.

“I’m fine Penfold, I’m just a little irritated that I’ve brought the day to a peaceful end and DM’s name still ended up lighting up the skies”

“Well if it helps any, I now know whatever DM will have to say, and it won’t make as much a dent in the room as those lethal letters did” said Penfold.

Jeopardy permitted herself a giggle.

 

Link

Dangermouse-Room For A Good Life

DANGERMOUSE:

ROOM FOR A GOOD LIFE

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

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


It was the simplest instruction.

Stay out of the lab.

And it wasn’t followed.

He’s supposed to the world’s greatest agent, and he couldn’t stick to this very basic request.

A request for privacy.

A request to serve her own basic need for personal security.

She wanted to rely on him. She wanted to trust his judgement.

And in this instance he dared to disappoint her most dangerously.

And the results were catastrophic.

She had dared to contact him while she attended the rock concert, letting him know that what had been uttered by her translator wasn’t intended to come off as hurtful, she was just concerned for the ongoing security of her work. She thought she’d even give him a little look at what she got up to when she would literally let her hair down, to show what a kid she was at heart.

She wanted him to see her as she was.

When she got back, and learned of what he did, learned that he had proven her trust issues valid, she wanted to violently tear his face off so she could peck it into a billon pieces.

She had been through so much over the course of a few weeks, she had fought valiantly beside her friends, valiantly beside him, and she had also been through a traumatic experience with a pair of terrifying tentacles intruding on her within a most private of areas, the women’s lavatory. Any normal woman would have screamed.

The only thing that could her scream was the loss of trust and the misplaced faith she had in one mouse.

And yet…when all was done, when crisis was averted, she accepted his invitation to dinner

Just like that.

It wasn’t even a question.

It was yet another exercise.

An exercise in trust.

She knew how it usually went. She’d been through it in school.

Someone would reach out with their hands.

You would fall backwards.

You’d trust that they’d catch you.

That’s how it worked.

That’s what she was counting on.

A chance for him to catch her as she too fell backwards into a state of ease around him.

And even when the floor caved in beneath her, before she could reach the dinner table Dangermouse and Penfold had set up for her, even as she fell and knew she couldn’t be caught, one question came into her mind.

Was this faith worth the pain?

“How are you feeling Squawk?” asked Dangermouse as he stood at the edge of the doorway that led into the infirmary containing the prone and injured Squawkencluck.

“Do you…want me to sign your name on the cast?” Penfold offered, pointing to her cast.

“Knock yourself out” the Professor replied.

Penfold smashed his head against the side of her bed and dropped to a heap on the floor.

“Must he always take things so literally?”

“I think it works subconsciously, he knows when to take himself out of the equation to invite privacy on me at a moment of great reflection”

“Dangermouse, there’s not one mirror in this room, so your usual patented narcissism is going to have to table its appointment”

“Ah, a funny” said Dangermouse, “Good attitude to have, a cracking joke always elevates the sting of pain”

“I wasn’t joking. I never joke about mistrust” said an irritated Squawkencluck.

“Yes, about that…look, it was done with the best of intentions, I just wanted to water that seed for you” Dangermouse replied.

“If that had been less irregular, I would have asked you of that, but it was isolated in the lab for a reason. You of course couldn’t see any other reason other than to…to…”

“To what?” said Dangermouse.

“Impress me” she answered.

“Come to think of it, I was being awfully impressionable” Dangermouse added, stroking his chin as he pondered his choice of action.

“Offering to water the plants is a very domestic thing, it wouldn’t be out of place in The Good Life” Squawkencluck continued, “But in a world as fragile as ours, in a universe that’s hard to predict, there can’t be any room for a good life now can there? Everything has to be chaotic, and then it has to be controlled”

Dangermouse walked over to her cast, took the felt tip pen from the unconscious Penfold’s hand, and penned a small picture of a buttercup daisy with a dove flying overheard on Sqawkencluck’s cast.

“What’s that for?” she asked

“To remind you to never stop thinking of a good life”

“Casts come off you know”

“Then imprint it on your memory, and never let the dream die”

“You are such a lost cause…but you know what? If dreaming of a good life’s worth the pain, then I guess you are too” Squawkencluck replied, permitting herself and Dangermouse a wry smile.

Once again, she was showing him a more affirming part of herself.

She knew it would cheer him up.

And he would do better in future to make her feel better.

All to find room for a good life.