The Adventures of Rug Bug: The Revolution

By Kay M. Bates, Kathryn R Smith and Mousebridge Furbius

When the nomadic beetle Rug Bug crash-lands outside of Mousetopia, he is offered assistance by the Dixies, a mouse-family residing in the city-state. Rug soon discovers the mice are forced to hand over a cheese-and-acorn tax each month to the notorious Fat Rat Bart and the Ratty Army. Following a run-in with Fat Rat Bart and his cronies, the Dix

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. M. Bates
• Release date: Mar 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781087860374

Book preview

INTRODUCTION: A NOTE FROM THE HISTORIAN

Dear Sir/Madam:

I, Furbius Mousebridge, have been assigned by the mayor of Mousetopia to chronicle the life of the notable figure, Rug Bug, and to document his role in the Mousetopian Rebellion. By the collection of historical records, contemporary diaries, and official propaganda (from both Rat City and Mousetopia), I now present to you the story of this important beetle and those closest to him.

I reserve the right of artistic license, especially where records are less than reliable. Notations for definitions are also provided, as needed.

Signed,

Official Lead Historian for Mousetopia

CHAPTER ONE: EMERGENCY CRASH LANDING

Rug Bug soared through the air, savoring the breeze drifting beneath his wings and between his antennae as he made a lazy loop-de-loop.

I wonder what General Silverwings would think of that. Rug smiled to himself, thinking of the respected beetle who had trained him.

Rug straightened his flight into a smooth sailing pattern, and wondered where he might travel to next, now that his explorations of the insect colonies in The Attic had come to an end. He heard there was a nice colony of mice living in The Upstairs, maybe he’d visit them…

SMACK!

One of the humans of The House had spotted him up high and swatted him out of the sky. Rug spiraled uncontrollably toward the ground.

Rug Bug struggled to stay on course, but he was losing altitude and needed to act fast. He managed to steady himself just in time to make a tumble-crash landing onto The Living Room carpet. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, a ginormous paw appeared above his head. The human’s cat had spotted the fallen insect and was now intent on catching him.

Get him, Mr. Whiskers! The human’s loud voice boomed from above, egging on his pet. Don’t let that nasty fly get away!

Setting aside the swelling indignation of being mistaken for a common housefly, Rug Bug scuttled along the floor, almost being squashed by the large furry beast. He gasped as he moved, surprised at the pain he felt. He needed an escape route, pronto. He opened his shell, unsheathing his wings to take off. He flitted them, but instead of a graceful lift-off into the air, he buzzed in an awkward half-hop and fell to the ground. Tucking his useless wings back into their shell, Rug darted across the carpet, just in time to hear Mr. Whiskers’ paw slam on the ground behind him.

So close, Mr. Whiskers! the human said. Keep hunting him down.

Rug’s mind raced, and his eyes scanned the room, trying to find another way to escape the cat.

There! In the wall, he spotted a small hole burrowed at the bottom of the baseboard.

Rug maneuvered in a zig-zag pattern to confuse and elude the monstrous Mr. Whiskers. The mountainous feline growled and batted with his paws at Rug, who readjusted his course faster than the cat could blink. At last, relieved, Rug Bug slipped into the hole in the baseboard. Mr. Whiskers yowled from the other side of the wall, lamenting the loss of his prize.

Inside the hole, Rug Bug rested and took stock of his situation. He glanced down at his blue beetle’s belly and his green shell, both of which looked to be unharmed from his close call with Mr. Whiskers. Rug Bug twitched and wriggled his six legs and surmised they all worked just fine.

His antennae felt a bit bruised, but they could still swivel this way and that, no serious injuries there. Rug steeled himself and peeked under his shell. As soon as he did, his stomach dropped. One of his wings was clipped, and the other was a crumpled mess.

Oh, dear, Rug Bug muttered. I won’t be getting very far with wings like these.

He stopped evaluating his injuries and took in his immediate surroundings. This side of the wall was poorly lit, as one would expect, since humans have no need to light the interiors of their walls. However, Rug Bug did find a small tunnel a way off to his right. He decided to explore it. The tunnel started out as a rather tight fit, but it soon widened as it intersected with a much broader path. At the end of the tunnel, Rug Bug saw a light.

That’s very interesting, I wonder where that leads.

The tunnel terminated at a large archway, where the light came cascading through. Rug Bug stepped over the threshold. He was greeted by a rather chipper-looking sign directly ahead, which read, Welcome to Mousetopia.

Mouse-toe-pee-uh? Rug Bug sounded out the sign. What a quaint name.

The streets of Mousetopia bustled with countless mice scurrying along the sidewalks and in the streets, on their way to work and school. A newspaper-mouse stood on a soapbox¹ on the street corner, handing out the daily news. Every mouse walked with restless energy. Even the mice stopping to buy the paper headed straight for the paper-mouse and darted away as soon as they had made their purchase.

Rug Bug felt quite out of place, as he soon gathered that there were no other bugs residing in the city. Rug thought he looked rather handsome for a beetle, but it did nothing to help him blend into this vast array of fur and tails. He knew they didn’t mean to, but some of the mice turned their heads and stared at him, startled to see an insect among them, as he ambled by.

Maybe it’s not so bad I stand out, Rug thought. Perhaps one of the mice will notice I’m injured and direct me to the nearest medical facility.

However, though several mice seemed curious, not one paused to ask him if he needed any help or to greet him with a Good morning. Rug would need to find access to medical assistance on his own.

A little peeved with the bustling city-mice, he meandered through the streets until he found what he was searching for: a medical building. A sign above it read, Mousetopia City Health Center. He inched his way through the swarms of mice toward the building and wondered if the medical office would be as crowded as the streets.

Rug walked in the front doors and paused, confused about whether he had come to the right place at all. It was too quiet. Empty chairs lined up neatly in the waiting area, though they were void of any patients. The only mouse present was the front receptionist, whose whiskers twitched as he approached the reception desk.

Welcome to Mousetopia City Health Center. How may I help you today? the front receptionist greeted him, attempting to smile with sincerity, but Rug Bug saw worry in her eyes. This perplexed him, as it was his understanding that most doctor-mice were cross-trained in caring for other species, including beetles, voles, rats, and spiders.

Um, y-yes, Rug Bug said, stammering a little. He looked around, still unnerved, as the receptionist seemed on edge. I have had an accident, and I was hoping to see someone…?

Certainly. The receptionist glanced at him, again with that strained smile, before shuffling her paperwork and pulling out some forms to fill out on his behalf. What is your name?

Soon enough, Rug Bug had finished the registration process and took a seat in the waiting area. It wasn’t long before the nursing assistant called him back to see the doctor.

Dr. Nibbles turned out to be a jovial, friendly mouse. He was a little on the elderly side and did not seem at all phased at the thought of treating a beetle. Yes, how are you doing today, Mr. Bug? he asked with a warm smile.

Oh, Bug isn’t my last name, Rug began, then stopped, seeing the quizzical look on Dr. Nibbles’ face. He decided might be better to just explain his injuries to Dr. Nibbles. Well, I’ve had a terrible fall, Rug Bug said. My wings have been damaged, and I found this city by sheer luck. I have nowhere else to go for treatment. Can you help me?

Why, of course! The doctor spoke in a rushed, somewhat distracted manner as he flipped through Rug’s chart. I may have never treated an actual insect before, but we did learn the basics of beetle anatomy in school. Please give me a moment while I consult the textbook I have in my office. I do hope you won’t mind the wait. I know that this is the kind of day most folks don’t want to be delayed for long.

Rug waited for the doctor to return, wondering why the Mousetopians would dislike delays. Maybe this was an unusually impatient city?

Alright. Dr. Nibbles returned to the exam room with his whiskers in the book a few minutes later. "Here on page 97, we have the basic wing anatomy. If you could spread yours out for me?"

Rug Bug did as he was instructed. Dr. Nibbles took a swift inspection of the damage, muttering to himself as he performed the exam. Yes, oh, I see. And this here? Yes. Mmm-hmm.

After a few mumble-filled minutes, Dr. Nibbles finished his evaluation and let out a puff of air. Well, my dear boy, you are one very lucky bug. The damage could have been far worse, especially judging by the nature of your accident.

But? Rug Bug swiveled his antennae, worried about what Dr. Nibbles would say next.

"But I’m afraid that your injuries will