GMD: Pistol-Whisked

PISTOL-WHISKED
A GMD Fanfiction

In the early evening hours of July 21, 1897, the city of Mouse London was afflicted by the moist, damp climate that had formed as a result of several days of rain.  Right now, the air was filled with thick fog, but the mist would soon turn to rain; Basil Of Baker Street could feel it in his bones, the way old-timer mice sometimes did.

It was the night before Queen Mousetoria’s Diamond Jubilee, & the streets were fairly empty, as the majority of the rodents in London were either at home or at their businesses, getting ready for the big city-wide celebration that was to take place on the following day.  If anyone was out on the streets tonight, they were probably costermongers, peddlers, pickpockets, muggers, murderers, thieves, trollops, ragamuffins, or beggar-mice, who were busy dabbling in their own affairs—& depending on what each furson did for a living, their “business” might be considered less-than-wholesome.

Whenever Basil passed someone by as he walked through the sordid streets of Mouse London’s East End, he was either given a weird glance, or not given a response at all.  As to why those rodents who crossed paths with the Great Mouse Detective were giving him “weird” looks, it was for one simple reason: they didn’t even recognize Basil, because he was in disguise.  The detective had chosen to “mousequarade” as a fat, blue-furred “Chinamouse” (in the rodent world, that word is not considered offensive) with buckteeth, a pair of ridiculously-long whiskers, a cream-colored muzzle, & purplish circles around his eyes that made him look like he was either suffering from insomnia or hooked on foul substances.  The “Chinamouse” was dressed in long scarlet robes, decorated with yellow-lined black stripes, & on his head, he wore a red cap with a big black brim.

Of course, no Chinamouse ever really looked the way Basil did in his costume, but up until a few decades ago, when the mice of the world were caught up in negative attitudes towards rodents of any minority (such as women, rats, rodents of other races, non-Christian rodents, gays, & whatnot), Chinese rodents were often depicted in the way Basil appeared—buckteeth, long whiskers, sleep-circles, & all—which is why it was a wonder that Basil hadn’t been given any disgusted or affronted looks from the rodents he walked by; if they’d seen through his disguise, they would’ve surely called Basil out for acting so out of character by donning the guise of a racist caricature.

Normally, Basil wouldn’t go to such lengths, but tonight, he had to make an exception—he wanted to make sure that no one, not even Professor Ratigan or his thugs, would recognize him in the slightest bit.  Inconspicuousness was a crucial detail for Basil to remember while he was going through the last stage of his investigation—otherwise, his cover would be blown, his plans would fall apart, & he would never be able to solve his latest case.

A couple of weeks ago, Professor Ratigan had committed a robbery at Mouse London’s Royal Bank, with the help of a few of his thugs, including “Gunsmoke” Gary Mousedale & Vanna “Eunice” Karlin—two of the young Professor’s top minions.  The crime was carried out successfully, & so far, no one had been able to retrieve the stolen money, but Basil had a way to fix that; the previous evening, he had heard from an informant (one of the members of a vigilante gang called the Wisteria Lodge) that Gunsmoke Gary & Eunice were “selling some used weaponry”, presumably a gun—which Basil could buy & then fire in a ballistics test to see if it was the gun that was used in last fortnight’s bank heist.  And if everything went according to plan, Basil would be able to match a bullet from the gun with another bullet, which would allow him to crack the case, track down Ratigan, & have him arrested!

But, first, Basil advised himself, I need to try & see if Gunsmoke Gary & Eunice are around...

It did take about an hour of walking through the East End streets, but eventually, upon reaching the corner of Blackguard Street (the worst street in Mouse London), Basil could make out two figures in the distance.  I think I’ve finally found the rodents I was looking for, Basil thought as he calmly, but cautiously, made his way over to the strange pair.  One of the two fursons was a short male mouse, with a five-o’clock shadow, theatrical black eyebrows, & a roguish, mischievous smirk on his face; the second furson was a tall, slender, golden-furred lady—a bat-mouse hybrid, to be exact—who was starting to get on in years, but was very good-looking for her age.  Lo & behold, Basil Of Baker Street had, indeed, found Eunice & Gunsmoke Gary!

Gunsmoke Gary held back a chuckle when he saw the ridiculous-looking “Chinamouse” approaching him & Eunice, clutching a silk paw-bag in his hand.  “If you wanted to come incognito, why not bother picking out a better disguise?” Gary quipped.

When the Chinamouse’s face fell into a frown, & he began to look worried, Gary stared at him with a wry look, & he asked, “You do realize that they stopped making those Chinamouse caricatures a decade ago? No offense, but couldn’t you have dressed up in a costume that was much less...conspicuous? I mean, if rodents saw you buying a gun from us & bringing it home with you, it’s not like they’d go to sleep & forget all about it when they woke up the next morning!”

“Well, at least, with luck, they’ll never know who the real purchaser was,” retorted Basil in an obviously-fake Chinese accent that went well with his disguise. “So, do you have the gun with you?”

“Right here,” Gunsmoke Gary said as he took out the weapon—an ebony-handled revolver with a shiny silver barrel—before handing it to Basil.  Just as Basil took the gun into his paws, Eunice cleared her throat & extended her hand, waving the palm & clawed fingers in a gesture for Basil to pay for the gun.

With that, Basil opened his paw-bag & emptied it out, producing a handful of pounds & shillings, which he immediately gave to Eunice.  “Keep the change, madam,” Basil said with a smile & a bow, before tucking his paw-bag into the lapels of his red robe, taking the gun, & turning to walk down Blackguard Street; this time, he was going off in the opposite direction, towards the nearest cab station, where he could catch a ride back to his home on Baker Street.

Basil only stopped for a few seconds to listen to the sound of Gunsmoke Gary & Eunice’s footsteps leaving the area; when he was sure that the two thugs were gone, Basil took to his heels & ran as fast as he could for the cab station, waving the newly-purchased gun about in his paw.  Gary & Eunice, clever & smart as they were, never figured out the true rodentity of their satisfied customer.  And that was a very, very good thing for Basil—but, hopefully, it wouldn’t be the case for Professor Ratigan!

THE END