Jimmy Mouse and the Cake Competition.
Dedicated to Nina from Strasbourg in France.
Hello, hello, and welcome to Story Nori.
You're listening to Jana and I am back with a mouth-watering mousy story featuring Jimmy Mouse and his friends.
The Cafe by the Sea was famous for its scrumptious cakes.
The customers loved them.
And the mice, who lived under the floorboards, loved them even more.
But nothing stays the same forever.
When the cake maker's YouTube channel hit one million subscribers, she gave up baking for real people.
You might think the loss of such a genius baker would be a crisis for the café, but there was no shortage of eager replacements, all hungry to take a slice of her success.
Every day, the new bakers arrived with sweet, fragrant creations sparkling with caramelised sugar and glistening with icing.
These weren't your everyday Victoria sponges or lemon drizzles.
No, these were cakes like you've never tasted before.
Have you ever tasted pumpkin and ginger cake?
Or earl grey and lavender sponge with sugared petals on top?
Or what about spicy Persian passion cake?
You haven't tried them?
Well, neither had the mice who lived in the cafe.
In fact, they found the new cakes, well, just a little bit too fancy for their own good.
Jimmy, the bravest of the mice, known for his heroic exploits, asked Judith a serious question.
Uh, Judith?
Does miso caramel have anything to do with mice?
Judith shook her head.
Um, no, I can't say I've ever heard of it.
That was surprising.
Judith was the cleverest mouse in the cafe and usually knew the answer to everything.
The very next day, Judith overheard the cafe owner saying Oh, I can't decide which of these fancy cakes will go down best with the public.
So here's my plan.
We'll hold a cake competition.
Every day for a week, customers can have free samples.
In return, we'll ask them to vote for their favourite.
The baker with the most votes gets the job.
Now the mice took cake very seriously. almost as seriously as cheese.
So Judith asked Grandpa Mouse to call a meeting.
You won't be surprised to hear that it was packed with squeaking rodents, all eager for the latest crumbs of information about the cake situation in the cafe.
Silence!
Silence!
Judith has something very important to share with us all, called Grandpa Mouse wobbling while he stood on his matchbox.
Ever since we arrived at the cafe, we've all enjoyed excellent cakes full of nourishing ingredients like walnuts raisins, carrots and peanut butter, but now the owner is holding a competition to choose a new baker, And I must report that some of the entries are well troubling.
More gatto than cake, in my opinion.
Oh, excuse me, squeaked Nina Mouse.
Are we allowed to vote?
We are customers and we do eat lots of cake.
That question was met with a wave of excited squeaks.
Yes, yes indeed, replied Judith.
But if all of us vote, we risk being discovered.
So discretion is of the utmost importance.
I suggest the three brave mice sample the cakes and vote on our behalf, interjected Grandpa Mouse.
At the word brave, Jimmy began to tremble.
He knew from experience that whenever Grandpa said brave, he usually meant Jimmy, and he was right.
That'll be Jimmy, of course, Grandpa continued.
Judith for her brains and Rodina because she has excellent taste.
What about me? asked Henry eagerly.
I like to eat cake too.
Not this time, said Grandpa.
This mission requires selflessness, wisdom, and quiet.
Not qualities you're especially noted for, Henry.
Oh! groaned Henry.
That night, Jimmy, Rodina and Judith set out for the cake counter.
The display was simply glorious.
Five perfect slices sat on elegant white plates, each with a little stack of colour-coded voting slips beside it.
The mice nibbled just the tiniest crumbs.
No mess, no trails.
Judith made careful notes.
One cake was so spicy it made Rodina sneeze.
Another had so much coffee in it, Jimmy got the jitters and started racing around in circles.
This cake wants to fight me, he squeaked.
But one cake stood out.
A golden brown hazelnut and honey crumble.
It was soft, nutty, lightly sweet and perfectly crumbly.
The scent alone could make your whiskers curl with joy.
Judith gave it a thoughtful sniff and a careful nibble.
This down-to-earth cake contains a slow burning energy.
Oating from the nuts and natural sweetness from the honey.
It's not just delicious, it's nutritionally sound.
Jimmy bounced up and down with enthusiasm.
And my taste buds are voting for this one too.
Rodina sighed dreamily and said, If I ever fall in love, I hope it tastes like this.
The winning cake had purple-coloured voting slips.
So they called it the purple cake, even though it was actually hazelnut colour.
Quietly and carefully, the three mice picked up all twenty purple slips and dropped them one by one into the ballot box.
This is what they call democracy, said Judith.
Then they scurried home.
Mission accomplished.
Back at the nest, Henry was waiting, eyes wide and whiskers twitching.
Did you have a delicious time? he asked hungrily.
Henry? scolded Judith.
This was strictly business.
We carried out our cake-eating duties with due care and attention.
But as soon as the others settled down, Henry sneaked out.
He scrambled onto the counter and nibbled every cake in reach. especially the spicy one.
His tummy swelled up like a puffed-up pudding and he left a mess of crumbs and icing across the entire display.
But the next morning he groaned.
Oh, my stomach! so loudly that he woke up Grandpa Mouse.
What's wrong, little mouse? asked Grandpa.
I ate bad cake, moaned Henry.
Just one tiny crumb and it poisoned me.
Grandpa looked suspicious, so he instructed Judith, who acted as the chief nurse, to examine Henry's belly.
Oh, tut, tut, he hasn't just eaten one tiny crumb, she explained.
His stomach looks like he's eaten a crumb the size of an elephant.
He's not poisoned.
He has stuffed himself silly.
What's worse, he's made an awful mess.
Just then, the cafe door opened.
Oh no!
What's happened here? exclaimed the owner.
Cake all over the place!
Looks like we've got mice, said the assistant grimly.
The owner groaned.
I hate calling Killer Mouse!
Those guys look like rats themselves.
And they scare off the customers.
Behind the skirting board, the mice froze.
Killer mouse, whispered Jimmy.
We'll all have to evacuate.
It's all your fault Henry.
Judith hissed.
No it isn't.
Henry protested.
Suddenly there was a flutter of wings and a bird shaped shadow glided over the floor.
A seagull flew in through the open skylight and crash landed on the counter.
With a loud squawk it snatched up the remaining hazelnut and honey crumble cake in its beak and flapped out through the cafe door.
The owner stared.
Then she burst out laughing.
Oh, so that's the cake thief!
No need to call Killer Mouse then, said the assistant.
The owner opened the ballot box.
Oh, I don't remember this many people voting for the purple one.
But you know what?
It was my favourite too.
Always trust your gut.
She called the winning cakes baker, and by afternoon, she had arrived with six more cakes.
That night, after the coffee shop was closed, the mice held a great party to welcome in the new era of wonderful and nutritious cakes.
Most of them ate too many nuts and crumbs.
But you have to let yourself go once in a while.
Not Henry, though.
He was lying down with a terrible gassy stomachache.
I'll never eat another crumb of cake as long as I live, he promised.
Although, of course, it wasn't the sort of promise that anyone, still less Henry, really meant to keep.
Because who can resist a little piece of scrumptious cake now and then?
And that was Jimmy Mouse and the Cake Competition, read by me, Jana, for Story Nori.
And I'm delighted to dedicate this story to Nina, who loves our monkey and Jimmy Mouse stories.
Thank you to Nina's family for supporting Story Nori.
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Bye for now!
I'll never eat another crumb of cake as long as I live.
