"New journal, not diary, log 1, date unkown, close to mid 1990s. I have decided to dictate my entries, my toughts, my *shudder* emotions, via this recorder. If no previous entries appear, it may be that I erased them, probably due to low quality. Hence 'New journal'. The last recorder was rubbish, with too little storage. Half a gigabyte, pathetic! End of current log, may resume later."
I was plucked from my home, although i can't remember it. I knew this, Acme Labs, can't be where i'm from. My earlier memories fading, as if I was dumber than I am now. I've acquired the habit of standing on my hind legs, didn't think of it. All that pondering, and being bounced up and down, and sideways, due to the truck's poor suspension. And that engine, or is it the music? One or both are giving me a splitting heaadache! As the truck turned, so did my crate. Turning left, the box slammed into the window, my face having the marks pressed on, as if by a waffle maker. Stifling my agony, I saw, what would be my HQ, my home base, My san, dotuary, but also my prison for the foreseeable future.
I'm just a simple GMO, (genetically modified organism) as well as a mouse. Who knows how long I'll last? What did someone change about me? Am I a defect? What purpose would I serve? Am I going to be alone? If not, do I need to defend myself?
Quickly, looking around the confines of my cage, unless with brute force or tools, neither of which I possess, there's little I can use as either a shield or a weapon. All I have is my recorder. I hope I can still use it, being fearful of my closest friend in the world, gone.
I really need a sign, telling me the residents are friendly.
Next thing i know, i smell... gas. Getting sleepy... NO! If im vanquished, ill go with my friend in my arms. I grasped it fimly, refusing to let go, but i must breathe. Getting even more dizzy, and a bit nausated, using remaining energy to hold on...Then, a dull pain on my head, must have smacked my head on the floor.
Then... nothing.... Then odd noises, nothing i have ever heard before.
" Zort!..." " Take over the world..." " Boom!" " Who's this, Brain?" " I'm at a loss."
"What's that in its arms? Poit!" " Not sure, Pinky."
" UGH! My zarking head!" " Where is it? Ah, there you are."
Then i realize im not alone. Suddenly, I get into defense mode. "Get back! Get back, i say!" Using the recoreder as a sword, then stopping, cautious of throwing it by mistake. I scream and run away.
" AAAAAA!" Away from them, then i spot a cage, looks familiar, it will have to do. Running full on, i tripped. Going head over heels, tumbling into the cage, bruised. " Ow, oof, ack!" reaching for my recorder, i cowered ito a corner.
" Zounds! Brain! He certainly is a fast one."
" Yes, Pinky, but the greater questions are: who is that, and what's its purpose here?"
As they approach me, i curl up in a ball, visibly shivering.
I flinched as Pinky patted my head.
" There, there, little one."
" Pinky! Leave it alone, can't you tell its scared!" WHAM!
" Oh, sorry Brain!" Pinky steps back, I crouch over the recorder,searching for a specific recording.
As i approach them, i lay a digit on the play button, ready to use it. CLICK
" Hello, for those who hold this recorder, and/or can hear this, this is one of possiblily many recordings, made by me.
My name is Norbertto Johnson. I'm a genetically modified mouse, unsure why im on my way or inside Acme Labs. Unless i'm holding or nearby while this is playing, you dont know what i look like. And without this, I wouldnt have survived my jourey to where i may be now. End." CLICK
I withdraw it, holding it to my side.
" Hello, Norbertto. My name is The Brain, That nitwit over there is Pinky. And welcome to Acme Labs, yours and ours current forever home."
END OF PART 1, PLEASE COMMENT