The Visionary

By Tevin Hansen

A twisted "tail" of revenge, friendship, and music.

Nothing exciting ever happens at 6671 Perfection Drive. C.K. Percy is always up in his bedroom, reading and keeping quiet—just how the Percys like it. When Mrs. Percy accidentally turns a bothersome house mouse into a powerful, revenge-seeking lunatic bent on draining the life-force of every human on the planet...well, that's when life on Perfection Drive really turns strange.

The award-winning author of Hole in the Wall and the Junkyard Adventures series delivers another humorous, off-the-wall adventure that will appeal to fans of Neil Gaiman and Roald Dahl.

"…the kind of book that Herman Munster would read to his kids…" —Goodreads book reviewer

• Language: English
• Publisher: Handersen Publishing
• Release date: Jun 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781947854819

Tevin Hansen

Tevin Hansen is the multi-award-winning author of more than 20 middle grade books, including Hole in the Wall, Hairytale Adventures, and the Junkyard Adventures series. He enjoys writing fast-paced, humorous books for kids, and also the occasional YA novel. Tevin lives in Lincoln, Nebraska, with his wife, kids, and a collection of cheap guitars.

Book preview

The Visionary

Handersen Publishing, LLC

Lincoln, Nebraska

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, locales, and other incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2020 Tevin Hansen

Cover copyright © 2020 Handersen Publishing, LLC

Cover & Interior Illustration by Shaun Cochran

Cover & Interior Design by Nichole Hansen

Manufactured in the United States of America.

All rights reserved.

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means is prohibited without permission of the publisher.

Summary: C.K. Percy becomes friends with a tiny mouse that wants to take over the world. Along with his deaf girlfriend and a half Canadian piccolo player, C.K. must stop this evil mouse before he becomes King Mummy Mouse.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019940891

Handersen Publishing, LLC, Lincoln, Nebraska

Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-947854-79-6

Hardback ISBN: 978-1-947854-80-2

eBook ISBN: 978-1-94785-81-9

Publisher Website: www.HandersenPublishing.com

Publisher Email: [e-mail]

Author Website: www.TevinHansen.com

Table of Contents

Part One

Mummy Mouse

Part Two

Snickers

Part Three

Kim

Part Four

C.K. & the Worm of Wisdom

About the Author

Not all mummies are stuffed with spices, wrapped in cloth, then left to rot for thousands of years in a tomb.

Some mummies are tiny. They have whiskers, padded feet, and scurry around on all fours. They too dream of coming back to life, draining life forces, and achieving god-like status.

Over the centuries, there have been several mice that have risen to power. But one name stands above them all…Mummy Mouse

Until recently, the beautiful white mouse that lived at 1199 Perfection Drive was lively and full of energy, measuring just a mouse hair over three inches long.

In life, he was so undeniably cute.

In death, he was a terrifying sight.

All cuteness gone.

Only a grotesque, pocket-sized tyrant remained.

On the night it happened, Mrs. Percy had just finished cleaning the kitchen. Mrs. Percy was raised to believe that the most important part of married life was a clean home.

After putting the last dish away, she carefully placed the dish towel behind the stove handle, then reached below the sink and pulled out the poison she’d bought earlier in the day. Just a few pellets of DIE, RODENT, DIE! could easily kill a large rat.

I certainly hope that’s enough poison to turn that creepy crawling mouse into a rotted pile of dust and bones, said Mrs. Percy as she poured the entire contents of the box onto a large plate, then placed it inside the closet by the front door—the last place she’d seen the mouse run and hide.

Satisfied, Mrs. Percy went upstairs and at least thought about saying goodnight to her only child, and possibly reading him a bedtime story, but quickly came to her senses.

Mrs. Percy was raised to believe that one of the primary goals of parenting was to squash out all bad influences, such as imagination.

Instead, she took a bath.

After her nightly beautification ritual was complete, she too was off to get some rest. Mrs. Percy understood that staying beautiful all day long was an important part of being married. Her last thought before fading into a soft sleep, with her head propped up so her hair would remain vibrant and full of bounce, was a hopeful wish that the little mouse that had invaded her home would eat the poison, suffer tremendously, and die a torturous and painful death.

But something else happened.

When Mrs. Percy went downstairs the next morning, long before her husband and only child woke up, she went straight to the closet by the front door. She wanted to check and see if the poison she’d set out the night before had done what it was supposed to do, which was decimate an entire mouse population in a single dose (according to the box). When she opened the closet door, hoping to see optimum results, she received quite a shock. The poison had worked better than anticipated.

A rotted mouse corpse? How delightful! said a cheerful Mrs. Percy. Now my dear husband won't have to be frightened by bothersome household pests anymore.

There was, in fact, a dead mouse in the closet by the front door. But upon further inspection, Mrs. Percy discovered that the little mouse that caused her so much grief was not dead, but simply…waiting.

Tight gray skin covered the once plump body, which was now bone thin and skeletal. The mouth was pulled back into a monstrous grin. The cute little white mouse that would scurry across the living room carpet while Mrs. Percy was trying to vacuum, or dart across the kitchen while she was scrubbing the floor, was dead.

But not all the way dead.

Mummified.

Standing there, looking at the dead mouse lying in the middle of a plate of poison, she could’ve sworn she saw movement.

First a leg twitch.

Then a whisker wiggle.

It wasn’t until the mummified mouse pulled its ghastly decayed body up onto its rotted feet and looked directly at her with those demonic red eyes that fear, panic, terror, and a whole range of emotions came upon her.

A terrified scream escaped from Mrs. Percy’s lips, colored bright red with lipstick even at this early hour.

Then Mummy Mouse spoke.

GRRAAH-HAAK

HAAVAH-MAAH, KAHL

The tiny creature uttered a series of raspy words, mixed with odd tongue-clicking noises, and thereby unleashed an ancient Egyptian curse that would instantly turn its victim into an unresponsive, incoherent, all around muddled mess of humanity.

FAAAHVAH, SHEEEECK, HAA-MAH

KEEEHL AAAHL

Mrs. Percy was not instantly killed.

In fact, she did not die at all.

Mrs. Percy was merely reduced to a crude, lifeless version of her former self. Her life force had been drained. Her emotions, her ambitions, her goals, her essence had all been taken away by the four-legged creature she had tried to kill with poison.

Mrs. Percy had become the first victim of Mummy Mouse. She was under the spell of this ancient curse.

Many more would soon obey.

The young boy who lived in the upstairs bedroom was the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Percy. When asked if they would ever have any more children, the Percy’s would sharply reply, Heavens, no! One child is quite enough.

The boy in the upstairs bedroom was named C.K.

And C.K. had a secret.

It was a big secret. An epic secret. A secret with soft white fur, long whiskers, four scratchy feet, cute brown eyes, and a tiny wet nose.

I’m so glad you came into my life, Mr. Mouse, whispered C.K. He sat cross-legged on his bed, hidden underneath his bedsheet, deep in conversation with his new friend, even though it was well past his bedtime of 6:30 p.m.

I don’t want anything bad happening to you, Mr. Mouse, said C.K. "Please don’t ever die, okay? You are the best friend—the only friend—I’ve ever had. I just couldn’t bear to lose you."

squeak

C.K. was basically a good boy, but he had difficulty seeing because he was clinically blind. Nothing bad had happened to him to cause him to be blind. He was simply born this way. C.K. did not mind being blind, not one bit. Being blind gave him other talents, such as super-sensitive hearing, an overdeveloped sense of forgiveness, and the ability to see only the good in everyone, no matter how small.

Are you hungry? C.K. asked his new best friend.

squeak

Oh my! I didn’t know you could communicate with humans. What a special mouse you are!

squeak

At this early stage in their friendship, the tiny white mouse wasn’t actually communicating. Mr. Mouse was simply trying to wiggle his way out of C.K.’s hand. The tiny critter also loved his new blind friend, but downstairs his supper was waiting. And to a mouse (and to many humans), food is much more rewarding than friendship.

Off you go, Mr. Mouse. C.K. gently placed his new best friend on the bedroom floor. You go get that cracker I left for you. Remember, it’s in the closet next to the front door. Go straight there. Don’t let anyone see you, okay?

squeak

I love you, Mr. Mouse! C.K. waved goodbye in Mr. Mouse’s general direction. Come back and visit me again tomorrow, okay? Goodnight!

And that’s how it all started. But that was just the beginning of their tumultuous friendship.

Two days later, C.K.’s new friend would have its cute little mouse body mummified by poison that his very own mother put on a plate and placed in the closet, which unfortunately was where C.K. had trained Mr. Mouse to go if ever there was trouble.

C.K. didn’t mean to assassinate his new friend. It just happened to turn out that way. He wanted to keep Mr. Mouse far away from Mrs. Percy, whose sole purpose in life (other than creating the perfect life for her husband) was to see every last furry, scurrying, icky mouse eradicated from the face of the earth.

Mrs. Percy hated mice with a passion. She despised these tiny creatures because they terrified her husband, Mr. Percy—a delicate, nurtured man.

Mr. Percy always turned into a whimpering, wallowing, muddled mess if he ever spotted one of these furry critters. That is why Mrs. Percy worked so hard to slaughter any mouse that would dare enter her clean house and frighten her poor husband.

The poison worked extremely well.

It was not a pretty sight.

Within seconds of eating the poison, Mr. Mouse’s furry coat began to lose all its hair. Then his eyes rolled back. His tongue shriveled up. The tiny mouse’s will to survive, his life ambition—his life force—had been sucked dry from the toxic pellets he’d been tricked into eating. When it was all over, his four tiny limbs were pointing up, stiff and lifeless.

Fortunately, Mr. Mouse had distant relatives that dated all the way back to ancient Egypt. And their spirits were angered by the foul treatment of one of their kind. They did not like the fact that one of their descendants was murdered by the lady who vacuumed the house every day, weaving a perfect crisscross pattern, and always with a big happy smile on her face.

Mr. Mouse did not go on to the afterlife.

He had become Mummy Mouse.

And Mummy Mouse wanted only one thing.

When Mr. Percy came downstairs that fateful morning, he was greeted with an unusual sight. Doing as he’d always done, he woke up at precisely the right time, brushed and flossed his teeth as his dentist prescribed, combed his hair and washed his face precisely how his dermatologist recommended, then got dressed in the clothes his dutiful wife picked out for him.

Mr. Percy was raised to believe that having a good outward appearance was the most important part of raising a family.

When Mr. Percy went downstairs, he found his wife acting in a most peculiar way. She was in the kitchen, attempting to make a pot of coffee…on the stove.

What is this nonsense? asked Mr. Percy, to which Mrs. Percy responded with a strange gurgling noise.

Maah Kaa-flaah, said Mrs. Percy, who was clearly not herself this morning, not in demeanor or appearance.

Excuse me? said Mr. Percy, unable to understand ancient Egyptian. He quickly pulled the coffee maker off the stove to stop it from melting any further.

C.K. had also woken up by this point. He got dressed and came downstairs just in time to translate for his confused paternal guardian.

Mother said that she is making you a fresh pot of coffee just like she does every morning, C.K. explained to his father. At least, I think that’s what she said—? It’s hard to tell because her voice is so muffled.

Her voice is muffled because she has a bed sheet wrapped around her entire body! said a clearly distraught Mr. Percy. Including her head!

To his wife, he said, Here, let me do that… At which point he smacked her hand away from his beloved coffee maker.

Mr. Percy was completely useless at making his own coffee, but he knew that the coffee grounds were not poured onto the closed lid of the coffee maker, with no filter or water—exactly what his swaddled wife had been attempting to do.

Mr. Percy left for work in a huff. For the first time ever, he ended up driving to work without a hot cup of perfectly brewed coffee. And that is something he knew from childhood was worthy of a dismissal of marriage vows.

Things got worse as the day progressed.

During lunch at school, C.K. opened his brown paper bag and received quite a shock.

Pleeeeck! C.K. chomped down on his usual PB&J with no crust, then instantly regretted that decision.

Not only had Mrs. Percy used stale bread, she had also forgotten to add the peanut butter and jelly. C.K. was left with an empty sandwich made with moldy, mummified bread.

Later that night, after Mr. Percy had gone to sleep (him in a proper bed, Mrs. Percy in her brand new homemade Egyptian tomb), Mummy Mouse came creeping into C.K.’s bedroom, dragging himself along on his rotted limbs.

Hi, Mr. Mouse! I’m sure glad you stopped by, whispered C.K. Something very strange has been going on around here… C.K. picked up his tiny friend, noticing right away that something was wrong.

Mr. Mouse? Oh, no! What’s happened to you? Your fluffy white fur! Your cute little mouse nose! And your tail! It’s so thin and bony, and quite repulsive to the touch.

LAAAH SSTAAHRAH

KEEEL MAH PAAAZAH

Even though it was a long story (especially told in an ancient language), Mummy Mouse told his young blind friend all about what had happened to him. The poison, the transformation, his new name…everything.

But it wasn’t all bad news.

Mummy Mouse had a new goal in life!

C.K.'s tiny, deranged friend was now dead set on seeking his revenge on all humans. He would accomplish this by draining one life force at a time, and eventually building up enough power to become a mouse god.

That’s quite a story, Mummy Mouse, said C.K. as he pet his friend with extra care. Would you like some moisturizer? It’s got Aloe Vera.

Mummy Mouse declined the offer.

Well, I’m glad that you’re okay, said C.K. And yes, I know you have a busy night ahead of you, but…

HAAK

I have to ask you a serious question.

GAH-HAAK

It’s about my mother, said C.K. gently. "Can you please change her back? Her current condition is unproductive, to say the least. You should have seen her this morning. She was a complete disaster!