A MOUSE IN THE WAR ROOM!

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a short, 3-part fanfiction piece for the "Dr. Strangelove" fandom, featuring General Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, the War Room cast, & a very surprising (but nonetheless very adorable) guest character—the eponymous mouse of our story.

Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, & all other characters, elements, & properties belonging to "Dr. Strangelove" © Stanley Kubrick & Columbia Pictures. I only claim ownership to the story itself, the mouse, & my invented first name for Miss Scott.

When you're finished reading the story, feel free to leave a review. I'll take anything from simple comments to constructive criticism, as long as they're not flames or written in a mean, rude, or overly-harsh manner.

And now that my copyright-&-disclaimer is finished, let the fanfiction begin! Happy reading!

Part 3:

War Room "Mousehaps", & Conclusion

The War Room of the United States Pentagon was alive with the faint, but ever-so-active, murmur of conversation emitting from the people seated at the large table in the center of the chamber. Among these people were President Merkin Muffley, Generals Sam Stains & Frank Faceman (both of the United States Army), Admiral John Cooper (of the United States Navy), & Dr. Braun Strangelove (the director of the Weapons & Research Development branch of the government). Suddenly, the conversation in the room came to a halt when the front door swung open with a noticeable creak, & none other than General Buck Turgidson came in to join them at the table, all decked out in his nicely-decorated, olive-green Air Force uniform.

"Sorry I'm late, everybody," Buck apologized as he took a seat in his special chair, "but I had a run-in with an angry bicyclist on the way over...There was a bit of a chase involved, so that took up a few minutes of my time."

"Oh, that's OK, General Turgidson," President Muffley said with the pleasant smile that usually appeared on his bespectacled face. "The meeting was just about to begin, anyway."

"Well, good," Buck said as he returned the smile & got comfortable in his seat. "At least, now, I know I haven't missed anything."

After President Muffley had checked to verify that all the Joint Chiefs & Cabinet members were present with him at the table, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, & said, "All right, folks, I suppose it's time for us to begin our big meeting...Oh, but before we discuss anything, I thought I should let you know that a maintenance crew is doing some work on the air-conditioning system, so there will be occasional bursts of sudden noise. Don't be too startled, OK?"

"OK," everyone at the table echoed with nods of their heads.

With that, President Muffley officially commenced the meeting, & the discussions on the new plans for a military deterrent began. Every attendee offered his ideas as to what the deterrent should be, & how it should work (Dr. Strangelove was the most eager participant in these conversations, as he was ultimately responsible for helping to realize these proposed plans, as well as supervising the construction & management of the deterrent in question), but when it was Buck's turn to offer his opinions on the matter, he suddenly stopped & gasped in alarm when he heard a loud clang coming from the other side of the room, where the maintenance crew was working.

"Are you OK, General Turgidson?" President Muffley asked, looking at the current Chairman of the Joint Chiefs in concern.

"Yeah," Buck replied, as he smiled & took a moment to calm down from his earlier spook. "I'm fine, President Muffley." Then, with a run of his hand over his hair, Buck composed himself, & opened his mouth to speak...but instead of words, all that came out was laughter. Much to the surprise, shock, puzzlement, & even amusement of the Joint Chiefs & Cabinet members, Buck clutched at his sides & started rolling about in his seat with uncontrollable laughter; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to stop himself from chuckling & cackling hysterically! Soon, some of the other people at the table started snickering & laughing, too, totally caught up in the infectious state of joy that was subtly spreading among them.

President Muffley, however, was not very amused by Buck's unprofessional behavior. "I enjoy a good laugh as much as the next person, General Turgidson," President Muffley said with a slight glower, "but this really isn't the time for fun & games. We're dealing with serious business here, so could you please try, at the very least,to stop laughing a little?"

"Sorry...President Muffley," Buck managed to blurt between incessant giggles & snorts, "but...I'm feeling...kinda...ticklish...right now!" For the next several minutes, Buck continued to laugh & linger in his state of merriment...but at one point, he suddenly stopped, & gasped in surprise when he saw the clothed (& panicked-looking) mouse scurrying out of the neckhole of his shirt, & down the length of the front of his jacket, but not without accidentally bumping the toy wheelchair that was hidden in Buck's coat-breast pocket (& causing said chair to fall out of its hiding place in the process). When that happened, both mouse & wheelchair fell onto the surface of the table with a small thud, & after shaking his head violently to & fro, the mouse opened his sunglass-covered eyes, regained his bearings, & looked around at his new surroundings with what appeared to be an expression of awe.

Then, the mouse did something that one wouldn't normally expect it to do, but what Buck had spent part of the last several days training him to do—he got up onto his hind-feet, walked toward the upturned wheelchair, picked it up, turned it over, & sat down in the plastic seat...before gripping the tiny wheels on either side of the chair, & maneuvering it across the table, much to the amazement of the Joint Chiefs & the Cabinet members (as well as Buck). At first, President Muffley was not too happy about the meeting being interrupted, but soon, he, too, came to enjoy the small diversion that was taking place; he had to admit, whatever it was that Buck had brought over was doing a pretty nifty trick.

"Well, I must say," President Muffley commented with a wide smile of childlike astonishment, "that's pretty neat, General Turgidson! Is that a mechanical toy?"

"Well," Buck said with a coy smile on his own, "not really...It's actually a..." Buck was suddenly cut off from finishing his sentence when the War Room was filled with another loud clang, which startled the mouse & sent him bolting out of the wheelchair; the poor little critter was so frightened by the noise, he completely forgot about his newly-gained ability to walk on two legs, & was scurrying madly across the big table on all fours, squeaking like a terrified mouseling who had heard or seen something scary. When they saw the "mechanical toy" coming to life & running around in front of them in a mad panic, the people in the War Room all gasped in terror & reacted rather negatively to the appearance of this unwelcome, unwanted visitor; even though the mouse was dressed in clothing & a wig, it still didn't hide the fact that he was of a species that had an unfortunate reputation for being "pests" or "vermin" in the eyes of most humans.

"Oh, my gosh," General Stains exclaimed when he realized who the miniature person (or, rather, furson) really was. "That's not a mechanical toy at all!"

"It's a mouse!" Admiral Cooper cried, pointing at the mouse with a forefinger as he put his other hand to the side of his face in shock.

"A mouse in the War Room!!!" President Muffley screamed, his own face now a mask of absolute terror. No sooner had the Commander-In-Chief uttered those infamous words, than he glared at the mouse (who was far more frightened of the humans, than they of him!) & pointed directly at him, giving only one order to the people who were in his presence: "Kill it! Kill it! Kill it right now!"

The Joint Chiefs Of Staff & the Cabinet members were all-too-happy to oblige, & they immediately dove across the big table to try & make a catch for the mouse, who managed to elude their grasp & continued running across the table as fast as he could...before unwittingly falling off the edge & landing into the lap of General Faceman, who let out a loud shudder as he looked down at the mouse in wide-eyed terror, picked it up by the hem of his jacket, & threw it across the room. Seeing the mouse flying in his direction, Buck made a great leap & tried to catch the mouse in his hands...but he missed, & the mouse landed on his back with a thud, before skidding across the table like an out-of-control vehicle that had collided with a patch of black ice. When the mouse finally came to a stop, he immediately got up & began running again (this time, on two legs). All the while, he desperately hoped that he wouldn't be caught by any of the humans, with the exception of Buck...& that other human sitting across from him—the one who was dressed in the same outfit that he was. He looked like a nice human, as he didn't even look interested in the prospect of joining the other people in their attempts to kill him on plain sight. Hopefully, that one human would keep him safe from harm, & maybe even try to bring him back over to Buck.

With this in mind, the mouse ran for the human in the wheelchair as fast as his little legs could carry him, doing his best to avoid the path of any hands, books, binders, shoes, or other objects that came down around the mouse in the not-so-friendly humans' attempts to kill him. Before he even knew it, the mouse soon found himself getting closer to the person that he hoped would be his savior. He was getting closer...closer...& even closer! Then, just when he thought he had reached safe harbor at last, the mouse looked up in terror when he saw the shadowy form of a large shoe looming over him. The mouse quickened his pace, praying that he could evade the mighty hand that was moving the shoe, before it had a chance to bring the impromptu weapon down upon his furson, & squash him. For a moment, it seemed like it was all over for the mouse...until he let out a surprised squeak as he felt himself being taken into the gentle grasp of two human-sized hands—one of which was covered with a single black glove.

"What's this?" the human asked curiously in a German accent as he gently stroked the mouse on top of his wig-covered head with the fingers of one hand, while he continued to hold him in the other. "I think we have a little mouse in the War Room...How delightful!" The mouse looked up at the face of the human who'd caught him, then let out a squeak (more like a sigh) of relief when he discovered that it was none other than the very human he had hoped he would reach...Dr. Strangelove.

"Well," Strangelove said with a playful smile as he laid the mouse down into the open palm of his gloved hand & began looking him over inquisitively, "this is very strange, indeed. A mouse dressed in my clothes...with my hair...& my glasses?" Then, Strangelove looked down at the tiny wheelchair that was rolling toward him from the middle of the table, having been knocked out of its earlier position in the confusion & chaos that had taken place a few minutes ago. The doctor picked up the toy wheelchair with his other hand, & as he gazed at it, he smiled even more widely, & let out a chuckle of amusement, before looking back at the mouse who, save for his different facial features & the fur covering his body, could have passed for the splitting image of him.

"My goodness," Strangelove chortled, "I've never seen a mouse who looks & dresses just like me! It's a very unusual thing...although very interesting, too." He looked down a bit more closely at the mouse, & said cheerfully to him, "Hello! Guten tag, klein Maus." The mouse looked up at Dr. Strangelove, returning his smile as he let out a squeak & waved his right arm in greeting...showing the human the pint-sized replica of the glove he wore on his right hand. This only served to increase Strangelove's amusement, of course, & he continued to chuckle as he surveyed the mouse, finding greater & greater enjoyment in the striking similarities between his & the animal's appearances. Whoever had clothed the mouse had taken great care to make him pass for a rodential version of Dr. Strangelove, right down to the sunglasses, wheelchair, & light-brown pompadour. To say the least, Strangelove was very impressed with that person's efforts in "rodentizing" him; he (or she) had done a very good job at it.

Strangelove continued to admire the mouse for a few more minutes, then carefully tucked him (& the toy wheelchair) inside the breast-pocket of his black jacket, before pushing his wheelchair back from the table & making his way over to Buck, who was sitting down in his chair, & looking awfully worried about what may have happened to his furry friend. That worried look, however, soon became a look of relief when he saw the mouse smiling at him as he peeked out of Strangelove's pocket. "Aw, gee," Buck said once he saw that the mouse was all right, "there you are, little fella! I was getting pretty worried about you!"

"Not to worry, General Turgidson," Dr. Strangelove said as he carefully took the mouse & wheelchair out of his jacket-pocket, & handed them over to Buck. "Your little freund is in good hands."

Buck took the wheelchair, & stuffed it into his coat-breast pocket, before smiling at Dr. Strangelove & saying to him, "Thanks a bunch for your help, Doctor."

"It's my pleasure, General Turgidson," Strangelove replied with a pleasant expression on his face. "I have to admit, you did a very wunderbar job at getting that mouse to look so much like me. Were he & I only of the same species, he could pass for my splitting image!" Then, chuckling to himself once again, Strangelove began to make his way back to his usual place at the table, &—seen just out of the corner of the doctor's eye—the little mouse smiled & waved "goodbye" to him. After that, Buck sat back down in his own chair, still holding the mouse in his hands as he watched the other members of the Cabinet & Joint Chiefs Of Staff clean up whatever mess they may have made earlier, before calmly returning to their seats...& proceeding to glare at Buck & the mouse.

President Muffley, too, glowered in irritation at the general & the "pet" he had brought over. "Well, General Turgidson," the President asked as he readjusted his glasses after sitting down, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

Buck hesitated, but then sighed & replied, "I probably should have told you in advance about the mouse...I-It's a long story, but, well, let's just say that the mouse had spent a few weeks in my care, & my lady-friend kinda...got tired of having him around, & she wanted me to get rid of him. I was just about to do that, when General Stains called me & told me about the conference, &...I...never got around to doing what Elaine asked of me, so...that's why the mouse is still here."

"Very well," President Muffley said. "I'll give everybody a few minutes to settle down from the earlier incident, & then, we can continue with our meeting. In the meantime, I think it really would be best if you took the opportunity to send the mouse on his way out."

When he heard Muffley's orders, Buck immediately felt a twinge of great emotional pain; his face fell, his heart sank, & his stomach dropped...but he knew deep down, all along, that the wonderful times he'd shared with the mouse had to come to an end at some point, & this, unfortunately, was it. He had long feared the day when he would have to bid "farewell" to the mouse & watch him walk out of his life forever, & now that that day had arrived, it felt even more painful to him than he had ever imagined. It would be a hard, hard thing for him to do...& yet, he knew it had to be done, all the same.

Sporting a sorrowful look on his face, Buck quietly trudged out of the War Room, & after passing through the open doorway, he went outside, onto the front lawn of the Pentagon. The sun was just beginning to set in the sky, tinting the heavens with hues of pink, purple, & lavender; the freshly-cut, green grass softly crunched under Buck's shoes as he stepped out further into the dwindling sunlight, & knelt down gently upon the ground, lowering the mouse (who was still resting in the palms of his open hands) down to the level of his feet. The mouse scampered out onto the grass, looking around in confusion, & when he turned to stare at Buck, his face fell when he saw the dejected expression on the general's own face.

"Well, little buddy," Buck told the mouse sadly, "this is it. I can't keep you with me anymore. You'll have to go find your own place to live now." Saying those very words made Buck choke up just a little, & with a sniffle, he took a handkerchief out of his jacket-lapel, & began dabbing at his moist eyes with it as he said tearfully, "But it pains me, because I really, really hate to see you go...To be perfectly honest, you were one of the best friends I can ever recall having in my life...& I have a lot of really good friends..."—sniffle—"...but needless to say, I truly enjoyed hanging out with you & stuff...If Elaine didn't hate mice so much, I'd keep you as a pet, but..."—another sniffle—"...there's no use trying to change that, so...well, there you go..." After sniffling one more time, Buck blew his nose, then stuffed the handkerchief back into his lapel, & with misting eyes, he told the mouse in a voice croaked with emotion, "Go on, little mouse. Go on, & try to move on with your life, OK? Don't worry about me...Just leave, & be done with it."

With great reluctance at the prospect of having to part ways with the kind, benevolent human who had taken care of him & befriended him, the mouse slowly began to walk away...but, then, he suddenly came back to scurry onto Buck's shoe, & just like he had done not too long ago, he crawled up the length of the general's frame, before climbing onto his shoulder & giving him an affectionate cuddle, followed by a kiss on the cheek. Then, with a wave & a merry squeak of "goodbye", the mouse slid down off of Buck's body, & scampered off across the Pentagon lawn...off toward the wilderness that lay ahead somewhere on the horizon.

As he watched the mouse dash away from view—& out of his life—Buck put on a bittersweet smile, as tears of mixed emotion slid down his face. He still regretted having to bid "adieu" to his furry little friend...but then, as his left hand touched upon the tiny toy wheelchair that was still in his jacket-breast pocket, he knew that saying "goodbye" did not have to be totally sad. If Buck always kept the toy wheelchair somewhere close by, the loss would be somewhat easier for him to bear over time...for as long as he had that wheelchair, the general also still had the mouse with him—in his heart, & in the fond memories that he held of those four weeks he spent with the little critter he had found in his attic on that rainy fall day...the mouse who had touched his spirit & soul in ways he had never thought possible.

When, after what seemed like a small eternity had passed, he finally rose to his feet & turned to make his way back into the War Room, Buck never forgot about the mouse he had befriended all those days ago. Even as Buck returned to the meeting—& the regular routine of his daily life—the memories of that mouse were still floating around somewhere in the back of his mind, filling him with a feeling of sweet nostalgia that he continues to feel to this day, every time he thinks about the adorable little mouse that came into his life on that fateful afternoon. And although Buck probably wouldn't like to publicly admit it, on account of "having an image to maintain", he still does think about that mouse every now & again. Who wouldn't? After all, it's a well-known fact that the unusual encounters or events we experience in our lives leave a lasting impression on our inner selves...& General Buck Turgidson was certainly no exception to this rule.

THE END