MM E:IV *****

A cool breeze blows through the hair of a particular rodent, as his mighty claws grip to the roof of a building. The whizzing cars and bustling sidewalks hum with an unknowing gratitude to their guardian; the purple patriot, Mighty Muskrat. His sharp eyes pierce through the night as the gloomy glow of the stars above illuminates the fog as it rolls in from the bay. He leaps from his perch as unnoticed as he had stood a blink earlier, and he began his run through the unsleeping city.

The Fans stood, as the Marlborough Muskrat balanced above the endzone on the bars of the field goal. His precarious perch failed him, just as everybody hoped; a thud brought his flailing body to the ground, smooth as homemade peanut butter. The crowd laughed; entertained as the mascot stumbled a pathetic jog across the football field to start the game.

Pit-pat-pit-pat. The pads of feet fly furiously, connecting with their metallic hosts with perilous precision. A streak of brown fur and purple cape shoots through the streets, until, quite to his surprise, his stiff ears catch a shrill cry. “HELP! That man stole my purse!”

At half-time, the mascot took an uncoordinated trip through the stands. A ball of brown fur and purple cape rolled down the stairs, and the kid in the costume made an awkward recovery. Finding his feet, he listened to the crowd’s laughter. Among the cheers, he happened to hear a small cry. “HELP! That man stole my purse!”

The chase began. Hundreds of eyes turned in amazement, as the blundering mascot suddenly found some sense of athleticism that even he hadn’t ever known before. The thief made his best dash, but he was soon overtaken by a heap of cotton.

Violet Vengeance tears through every muscle in his body. His mask forms to a concentrated scowl, and this petty thief knows with once glance backward that his time is up. Before adrenaline can even run its course through his veins, he is apprehended by the tense paws of a very large muskrat, and within seconds, the handbag is returned to the smitten citizen.

The Principal stood from his seat and walked to where the exhausted Melvin Morale stood. taking the microphone, he announced the valour of the panting adolescent. “Son,” he said, “in a small way, you’ve been a hero today. Why don’t you take off your mask and show us who you are?”
“No,” came a feeble reply, “I’d prefer not, sir.”

On most occasions, Mighty Muskrat leaves the scene before he can receive any praise for his worthy efforts. But, today, the Mayor steps from the crowd, having been at the right place at the right time. “Mighty Muskrat,” he says, “in a big way, you’ve been a hero today. Why don’t you take off your mask and show us who you are?”
“No,” booms a deep voice in reply, “I’d prefer not, sir.” Before the Mayor can protest, the robust rat leaves the crowd below. With little success, each looks into the sky to catch a lucky glimpse of his rippling cape before he is out of sight for good.

At least, until the next time a crook makes the mistake of messing with...
MIGHTYMUSKRAT!