Chapter 1 scene, Beardrock's office
“Kill all the babies?” Mr. Snobbs cried in disbelief. “That just seems inhumane if you ask me!”
Captain Beardrock sat back in the worn leather chair of his small dimly lit office. Locking his fingers together as he rested his hands behind his head, he eyed the slightly pudgy man irritably, and started in.
“Well it’s gotta be done Mr. Snobbs.” the captain replied. “Can’t very well have the little buggers running about getting into everything in the station now can we? And what’s going to happen to em when they get bigger and start needing food and such You’ll be the first to complain that yer lunch is amiss and I sure as heck aint sharin’ mine with you or anyone else for that matter.” finishing he took a quick sip of hot mud from his favorite cup, seeming to bask in its rich coffee like flavor, the smell of the drink bringing a smile to his grizzled face.
“Maybe we could take em all out to the country and leave em by a tree.” said a deep voice with a bit of a drawl.
Shocked, at not noticing the man, the two looked over to see Lieutenant Bosworth Little, who was actually big, helping himself to the Captains freshly brewed pot of mud. How anyone could miss a man so big entering an office so small is quite alarming.
“Oh, I’m sure we all have time for that type of nonsense, now don't we?” Captain Beardrock said sarcastically. “And I suppose you’ll do it on watch time, using a watch vehicle as well won’t you lieutenant?” And stay out of my mud!” the captain barked hotly, wishing to himself that he had noticed Little enter the room and that way avoiding this new ordeal.
Snobbs pushed his spectacles up a bit further on the nose of his ridiculously round face as he observed Lieutenant Little attempting to correct his actions. Fumbling about the large man finally managed to return the pot of mud back to its place over the fire, while at the same time striving to pour the contents of his dirty mug back into the captain’s fresh brew. “
What in the...?” Beardrock started, watching the huge bear of a lieutenant dump his flask full of hot liquid back into the pot, spilling most of it all over the captains end table. “Do you ever clean that thing?” Captain Beardrock asked bewildered as he stared at the other man’s grimy drinking vessel. Shaking his head and muttering to himself, Beardrock ran the fingers of one hand through his slightly greying hair, while using the other in an attempt to smooth his long, shaggy mustache down even further into his beard. “I never in all my years as captain...” he muttered under his breath.
Captain Beardrock had been running the city watch for quite some time now, and had been the former Captain Wright’s second in command for as long as anyone could remember there being a city watch. He had kept the peace so far by running a, what he likes to call, tight ship! A decorated hero from the “War of Ages” he proclaims often, though no one quite knows for sure, he does seem to have quite a few dusty old medals hanging about his weathered, if not worn out, uniform. The “War of Ages”, was so long ago most folks seem to have forgotten it. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that it took place mainly in the mountains to the west of the city before the city was very large. In fact the city really isn't a city, nor is it large. None the less Captain Beardrock, used to commanding men, was an obvious choice to run the watch.
Lost in thoughts of brewing a new, less contaminated pot of mud, the Captain seemed to have forgotten their present dilemma, the now ruined hot beverage becoming somewhat of a dilemma in itself. And Mr. Snobbs was now far, far, in the back most reaches of Cornelius Beardrock’s mind, if at all.
Snobbs, a short chubby fellow who appears, despite his size, to move quicker than anyone else in the department scurrying about doing who knows what for who knows what reason, always manages to be on top of things. His glasses and well maintained crop of neatly kept hair, even though he is slightly balding for such a young age, give him the look of a scholar. A man of purpose, a man of ambition, a man who is Captain Beardrock’s personal secretary... Don’t mention that to Snobbs though, he is actually in charge of the front desk and dispatch duties, and would never admit to playing nursemaid to the good Captain. A glorified desk clerk, most of the patrol called him.
“Ahem,” Snobbs cleared his throat once again drawing attention to himself. “Now about our little, um, problem captain?” he reminded his superior.
“What?” the captain asked turning to face the pudgy Mr. Snobbs. “Ah yes, the mice, very well then.” he answered. “See that Lieutenant Little...”
“Who is actually quite big?” Snobbs interrupted noticing the lieutenant’s dismay at bringing the subject of his size up yet again.
“Yes Snobbs, I suppose he is.” The captain continued seeming to disregard the comment. “See to it that he disposes of the baby mice as he sees is fit, and not within walking distance of this department!” He scolded, eyeing Little as if to see that the man understood. “I’ll not have those thieving rodents back in my office muddling up my affairs!” “Is that clear?”
“Actually sir,” Snobbs interjected. ”Exactly how far is walking distance, in mouse terms, I mean?”
“I don’t think them mouse’s can walk too far on account of them’s teeny little legs.” Lieutenant Bosworth Little put in.
“I suppose not.” the Captain mumbled absentmindedly, seemingly more interested in brewing a new batch of mud rather than dealing with the present conversation. “Very well then men.” he said turning back to Mr. Snobbs and Lieutenant Little. “Great work and all” he finished with authority in his voice. Waving the two from his office he turned back to his brewing. Mumbling about private property and respecting other peoples personal space he began preparing a fresh batch of mud.
Captain Beardrock sat back in the worn leather chair of his small dimly lit office. Locking his fingers together as he rested his hands behind his head, he eyed the slightly pudgy man irritably, and started in.
“Well it’s gotta be done Mr. Snobbs.” the captain replied. “Can’t very well have the little buggers running about getting into everything in the station now can we? And what’s going to happen to em when they get bigger and start needing food and such You’ll be the first to complain that yer lunch is amiss and I sure as heck aint sharin’ mine with you or anyone else for that matter.” finishing he took a quick sip of hot mud from his favorite cup, seeming to bask in its rich coffee like flavor, the smell of the drink bringing a smile to his grizzled face.
“Maybe we could take em all out to the country and leave em by a tree.” said a deep voice with a bit of a drawl.
Shocked, at not noticing the man, the two looked over to see Lieutenant Bosworth Little, who was actually big, helping himself to the Captains freshly brewed pot of mud. How anyone could miss a man so big entering an office so small is quite alarming.
“Oh, I’m sure we all have time for that type of nonsense, now don't we?” Captain Beardrock said sarcastically. “And I suppose you’ll do it on watch time, using a watch vehicle as well won’t you lieutenant?” And stay out of my mud!” the captain barked hotly, wishing to himself that he had noticed Little enter the room and that way avoiding this new ordeal.
Snobbs pushed his spectacles up a bit further on the nose of his ridiculously round face as he observed Lieutenant Little attempting to correct his actions. Fumbling about the large man finally managed to return the pot of mud back to its place over the fire, while at the same time striving to pour the contents of his dirty mug back into the captain’s fresh brew. “
What in the...?” Beardrock started, watching the huge bear of a lieutenant dump his flask full of hot liquid back into the pot, spilling most of it all over the captains end table. “Do you ever clean that thing?” Captain Beardrock asked bewildered as he stared at the other man’s grimy drinking vessel. Shaking his head and muttering to himself, Beardrock ran the fingers of one hand through his slightly greying hair, while using the other in an attempt to smooth his long, shaggy mustache down even further into his beard. “I never in all my years as captain...” he muttered under his breath.
Captain Beardrock had been running the city watch for quite some time now, and had been the former Captain Wright’s second in command for as long as anyone could remember there being a city watch. He had kept the peace so far by running a, what he likes to call, tight ship! A decorated hero from the “War of Ages” he proclaims often, though no one quite knows for sure, he does seem to have quite a few dusty old medals hanging about his weathered, if not worn out, uniform. The “War of Ages”, was so long ago most folks seem to have forgotten it. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that it took place mainly in the mountains to the west of the city before the city was very large. In fact the city really isn't a city, nor is it large. None the less Captain Beardrock, used to commanding men, was an obvious choice to run the watch.
Lost in thoughts of brewing a new, less contaminated pot of mud, the Captain seemed to have forgotten their present dilemma, the now ruined hot beverage becoming somewhat of a dilemma in itself. And Mr. Snobbs was now far, far, in the back most reaches of Cornelius Beardrock’s mind, if at all.
Snobbs, a short chubby fellow who appears, despite his size, to move quicker than anyone else in the department scurrying about doing who knows what for who knows what reason, always manages to be on top of things. His glasses and well maintained crop of neatly kept hair, even though he is slightly balding for such a young age, give him the look of a scholar. A man of purpose, a man of ambition, a man who is Captain Beardrock’s personal secretary... Don’t mention that to Snobbs though, he is actually in charge of the front desk and dispatch duties, and would never admit to playing nursemaid to the good Captain. A glorified desk clerk, most of the patrol called him.
“Ahem,” Snobbs cleared his throat once again drawing attention to himself. “Now about our little, um, problem captain?” he reminded his superior.
“What?” the captain asked turning to face the pudgy Mr. Snobbs. “Ah yes, the mice, very well then.” he answered. “See that Lieutenant Little...”
“Who is actually quite big?” Snobbs interrupted noticing the lieutenant’s dismay at bringing the subject of his size up yet again.
“Yes Snobbs, I suppose he is.” The captain continued seeming to disregard the comment. “See to it that he disposes of the baby mice as he sees is fit, and not within walking distance of this department!” He scolded, eyeing Little as if to see that the man understood. “I’ll not have those thieving rodents back in my office muddling up my affairs!” “Is that clear?”
“Actually sir,” Snobbs interjected. ”Exactly how far is walking distance, in mouse terms, I mean?”
“I don’t think them mouse’s can walk too far on account of them’s teeny little legs.” Lieutenant Bosworth Little put in.
“I suppose not.” the Captain mumbled absentmindedly, seemingly more interested in brewing a new batch of mud rather than dealing with the present conversation. “Very well then men.” he said turning back to Mr. Snobbs and Lieutenant Little. “Great work and all” he finished with authority in his voice. Waving the two from his office he turned back to his brewing. Mumbling about private property and respecting other peoples personal space he began preparing a fresh batch of mud.
