A small rodent, known as a Zimak, scampered through the halls. Every now and then he would stop to scarf up a bug or a food scrap left by some visitor. He paused at a door, sniffing with interest. From inside the room came the unmistakable smell of cheese.
“Hhmmmn, I wonder if it’s Stilton,” said the Zimak to himself. He crept cautiously nearer and sniffed harder. “Yes, yes. No doubt about it—its Stilton all right!”
Then the door opened a crack and a deep crooning voice whispered. “Hey, buddy, you hungry?”
The Zimak was just about to flee, when the voice whispered again. “Wait, I got something for you.”
The Zimak pricked up his ears. “Could it be a scrap of Stilton?” he tentatively asked.
“It’s lots better than a measly scrap. “Look.”
A tin full of scrumptious cheese balls poked through the crack.
The Zimak hesitated, blinking his bright button eyes.
“Go on,” the voice urged. “Try some.”
Licking his chops, the Zimak reached out a paw. Yet, as soon as he took one, a purplish red tentacle shot out from behind the door.
Squealing in terror, the Zimak quickly dodged the clutching appendage. Spinning around, he ran down the hall. He heard the door opening and then heavy footsteps behind him.