THREE DRUNK MICE by Chris Joseph If you’re experiencing an unwanted mouse invasion in your home, it may not be enough to make sure you sweep up all crumbs, or to find a cat that prefers a little filet of Mickey with his Tender Vittles. You might also think about locking up the liquor cabinet. A recent Harvard Medical School study shows that red wine improves the health of mice suffering from problems like liver disease and diabetes. I’m sure it also facilitates the rodent reproduction process, especially when combined with a candlelight dinner and a Barry White record. But I can only see all this mouse-sousing ultimately having a negative impact on the rodent community, especially its celebrities. As we know, many human stars struggle with substance abuse, so I soon expect to see lots of famous four-legged critters joining them at the Betty Ford Center. I thought it might be interesting to eavesdrop on a meeting of the Hollywood chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous for Beady-Eyed Non-Humans With Tails to see how they’re coping. The membership includes three of the most popular rodent stars of stage, screen, and Saturday morning cartoons: Jerry, of Tom and Jerry fame; Mickey Mouse, and Mighty Mouse (no relation)... Jerry: My name is Jerry, and I’m an alcoholic. Group: Hi, Jerry. Jerry: I don’t know what happened. I was having a blast tormenting that idiot Tom whenever he tried to cram his fat head into my mouse hole. You’d think a cat would learn his lesson after getting whacked on the noggin with a skillet about 87 times. But after awhile, I wasn’t finding fulfillment in crushing Tom’s tail in a waffle iron, and I felt empty inside. That’s when I turned to the bottle. Mickey Mouse: I guess it’s my turn. My name is Mickey, and I’m an alcoholic. Group: Hi, Mickey. Mickey: I started drinking because of the pressure of dealing with hordes of people at the Magic Kingdom day after day...everybody wanting pictures, hugs, autographs...I mean, you try holding a pen and signing your name all day long when you only have three fingers. I guess the last straw was when I found out Minnie was having an affair with three of the Seven Dwarfs. It must be true what they say: size doesn’t matter. Mighty Mouse: I must be next. My name is Mighty, and I’m an alcoholic. Group: Hi, Mighty. Mighty: I can relate to what Mickey said. I think the pressure got to me, too. I literally felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. I spent every day and night flying around, trying to spot trouble then swooping in and singing, "Here I come to save the day!" That’s a lot for a little mouse to live up to, even one as buff as me. Let’s face it: in the superhero world, if you don’t do your job, people die. Carrying that burden is enough to drive a mouse to drink–and I do.
Mickey: Well, the important thing is that we’re all finally confronting our demons. I’m going to try and patch things up with Minnie–as long as she promises to stop playing with the little fellas’ jewels. Mighty: And I believe I can make it without the sauce. Sure, it’s stressful being a superhero, but I now know there’s help out there. I’ll just concentrate on saving my little corner of the world. George Bush can save the rest. Jerry: I’ll try my best, but if that Tom starts bugging me again, I’ll eat his liver--with Cheddar cheese and a nice Chianti.
Comments? Contact Chris
To subscribe for FREE Click here | 
