Voretober 2022 - PERFORMANCE

“COME ONE COME ALL! COME SEE THE GREAT MOUSINI ESCAPE FROM ANY SHACKLE, ANY CAGE, ANY THING! ONE NIGHT ONLY! ONLY HAAAAALF A DOLLAR PER!”

So went the proclamations of the street crier, at least. The short blurb was more than enough to grab the intrigue of passers-by, not to mention the cheap entry. Mousini himself peeked between the curtains, watching the rows of the small auditorium he’d managed to rent fill up. “Look at all those people out there,” he said, mostly to himself. “Just waiting to see a true act of mousy mastery!

His assistant, a larger, flabby tabby cat stood some distance behind him. “I think they just want to see you foul it up.”

Mousini snapped around, offended. “Hmph! I’ll have you know, at our last show, one of the audience members stayed afterwards to ask for my autograph!”

“One more than before, I’ll give you that.”

“Nevertheless! This time I expect there will be at least two. If not more. Especially if I perform that new escape we rehearsed--”

His assistant groaned. “I would rather not. I’m still--”

Mousini’s ears suddenly perked as he heard his name being announced. “Quiet! It’s showtime, my dear companion. Go ready the water one.” He didn’t even await a response before walking out between the curtains. This was what he lived for. “Greetings, all of you fine people! I’ve gathered you here to witness only the most astonishing acts of acrobatics! Shocking spectacles of strength! And of course, epic executions of escape.”

As he finished that opening statement he turned around to reveal his hands, bound by metal chains. He pulled at them a few times for effect, rattling them for the audience to hear and see how his arms were actually locked. Then he turned back to face the audience, making exaggerated expressions of effort. After only a dozen seconds, the chains fell to the ground and he revealed his hands to the audience, free of any restraint.

The trick was rewarded with some spread out, half-hearted applause. This audience clearly had higher expectations than his typical crowd. Unhampered, he declared, “This is only the beginning, my friends! By the end of this show, you will come to believe that even a mouse like me... Can defy Death herself.” That line always got a few more people to show interest. His assistant arrived just in time with a straitjacket and a pool of water to begin their next display.

The show went on for 45 more minutes, going through various dangerous and seemingly impossible escapes. But for whatever reason, he seemed to only ever get about half of the audience’s applause. A respectable amount, to be sure, but not enough. He needed everyone to react, everyone to be amazed, and everyone to talk about it. As they put away the equipment from the last fantastic feat, Mousini followed his assistant offstage.

“This audience isn’t enjoying my show well enough. We need something to truly astound, confound, dumbfound them! We have to bring out the Cat.”

“Sir, I know you’re paying me well enough, but I’d really rather--”

“If you want to keep getting paid well enough, you’ll do it! Not to mention your dinner is paid for this way. Come.”

His assistant just sighed, following him back onstage. There was really no arguing with him in this matter. As Mousini walked back into the lights he declared, “Distinguished audience, I have one last demonstration for you. You may have spotted my dear assistant earlier tonight. They’ve been a wonderful help, but you may have also noticed that they’re a cat. And I’m a mouse. A curious combination, is it not? What if I told you... I could escape from that most impossible of places: A cat’s stomach?”

This statement finally seemed to rouse some interest in the audience. They murmured among themselves. Something they hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t really mean...? But yes, he could. “After this,” he said, projecting his voice as far as he could, “You will have no doubt that I, the Great Mousini, am the greatest escapist to grace your mind! Now keep your eyes peeled and ears open; you won’t want to miss a second.”

With that, he finally turned towards his assistant and gestured. Reluctantly, they grabbed the magician by his shoulders and thrust his head into their maw. The audience immediately responded with a gasp, although Mousini could hardly hear it. His assistant wasted no time at all continuing, swinging him up as they swallowed, presenting a clearly visible bulge for the audience.

The auditorium stared in captivation as the mouse disappeared further and further into his assistant. Loud gulps bounced around the room with each swallow. It was hard to see what was happening as anything but reality as the cat slowly turned to show everyone their swelling stomach. And with a slurp of his tail, soon there was nothing left outside of the escapist. The assistant punctuated the process with a loud, if involuntary, buuuurrRRRRAAAP!

They remained remarkably steady while their belly squirmed. With Mosuini’s voice muffled to the point of hardly being able to reach the first row, they were forced to continue the show. They had the lines memorized, but they dryly repeated them. “That mouse sure was tasty. I know he’s an escape artist, but I doubt he’s escaping from here. In fact, I’m going to drink this bottle of digestive aid I secretly brought along,” they said as they revealed a small, but bright green bottle, and lifted it to reveal it to the audience. They promptly drank down the entire thing, grimacing in the process. “Ahh. That’s better. Now he’ll have only a minute to get out before he’s cat food.”

With the scene set and the clock ticking, Mousini got to struggling. The audience watched with bated breath as their belly squirmed and writhed, noisy gut sounds filling the room. And yet with each second by, his fate seemed more and more sealed. Some started to gasp as they noticed the way their gut was shrinking, yet the mouse had made no grand appearance. After about a minute indeed, the cat’s stomach was silent, smooth, and still.

They let out another echoing BRRRELLLLLLCH. A melted scrap of clothing flew out onto the stage, eliciting some outright shrieks. “Guess he wasn’t so amazing after all,” they said as casually and flatly as the other lines.

“YOU SPEAK TOO RUDELY FOR A MAN STILL IN YOUR PRESENCE!” The familiar voice of the mouse seemed to come down from the heavens, causing everyone to look up except his own assistant. The lights even turned and there he was, suspended by rope and descending. Alive, undigested, unfazed. The audience went wild at the twist, cheering and hollering as he slowly lowered back to the ground next to his assistant. They bowed, and then went separate ways off-stage.

They reunited behind the curtain, Mousini elated and his assistant less so. They asked, “Isn’t it cheating to use real magic?”

Mousini put a finger to their lips, shushing them. “It’s all show business, my dear assistant. What they don’t know will excite them.”

They frowned. “What if one day, that doesn’t work? What then?”

“Impossible!” He said confidently. “Now, tomorrow, let’s get you back to exercising.” He pivoted on his foot and headed towards the entrance, raring to meet anyone staying behind for him. “We have another show in a week, and this seems to be just the finale we’ve been looking for!”