//------------------------------// // The World's Greatest Criminal Mind // Story: G5 Adventures in The Great Mouse Detective // by ponydog127 //------------------------------// The sewers of London was where the infamous Professor Ratigan laid in hiding, indeed cooking up a devious plan just like Basil and the ponies assumed. But… what they didn’t know was that this plan he was cooking up was his worst plan yet, and that’s why he needed Olivia’s father. Inside his prison where Flaversham was being held, a mechanical robot was pouring tea into a cup. Mr. Flaversham was working at a podium, controlling its movements as Ratigan came to the prison door, his voice oily and gentleman-like. “Quite an ingenious scheme, eh, Flaversham? And aren’t you proud to be a part of it?” “This whole thing… i-i-it’s monstrous!” Mr. Flaversham stammered as he continued to work the controls, getting the robot to pour a spoonful of sugar into the teacup and stir it. “We will have our device ready by tomorrow evening, won’t we?” Ratigan asked him, evilly smirking. “You know what will happen if you… fail?” In Ratigan’s hands was a small golden bell, which obviously held some kind of threat. However, instead of being afraid, Mr. Flaversham grew angry and defiant. “I… I don’t care!” He herked hard on the controls, making the robot dump the cup of tea on its head. The robot seized the teapot and poured that onto its head as well, then hurled it towards Ratigan, who dodged just in time. The robot frailed around and finally stopped, but not before squirting oil out, which landed on Ratigan's coat, causing the rat to scowl at the resultant stain. “You can do what you want with me,” Mr. Flaversham declared. “I won’t be a part of this… this…this evil any longer!” Ratigan wiped the oil off his coat, seemingly biting off rage. “Very well. If that is your decision. Oh, uh, by the way, I’m taking the liberty of having your daughter brought here,” he said, picking up Olivia’s ballerina doll and winding it. This caused Mr. Flaversham to pause in shock. “O-Olivia…?” “Yes. Hm-hm, yes,” Ratigan said as he watched the toy dance around on the table. “I would spend many a sleepless night if anything unfortunate were to befall her.” “You… you wouldn’t!” Without another word, Ratigan picked up the doll and squeezed it until it broke into small pieces. “FINISH IT, FLAVERSHAM!!” And then, with a heavy heart, Mr. Flaversham turned away to do as he was told.  XXXXXXXX Outside the prison where he kept Mr. Flaversham, Ratigan hummed and wrote a list on a small piece of paper. “Oh, I love it when I’m nasty.” Then, he looked to the doorway above where his bat minion Fidget was sleeping upside-down. “Fidget?” he called, but Fidget didn’t move… so he decided to yell loudly and scare him awake. “FIDGET!!!” Startled, the bat fell from his perch and rolled all the way down the stairs at Ratigan's feet. “Bright and alert as always. Here’s the list,” Ratigain told the bat. “You know what to do, and no mistakes!” “No, no. No mistakes, sir,” Fidget said quickly before looking at the list. “Tools, gears, girl, uniforms…” “NOW, FIDGET!!!” Ratigan then screamed. “I’m going, I’m going! I’m going!” Fidget said, running over to a drain grate, lifting it up and disappearing below to complete his mission. XXXXXXXX Inside his secret lair (which was a large barrel), Ratigan was approaching his throne, being cheered on by his men. He sat down and holds out his cigarette, making several hands offer lit matches, and he lit it and inhaled, blowing out several smoke rings. “My friends, we are about to embark on the most odious, the most evil, the most diabolical scheme of my illustrious career,” he said to his men. “A crime to top all crimes…a crime that will live in infamy!” Most of Ratigan’s men were cheering at this news… all except one, Bartholomew, whose attention was focused on his empty mug. “Tomorrow evening, our beloved monarch celebrates her Diamond Jubilee,” Ratigan continued, “and… with the enthusiastic help of our good friend, Mr. Flaversham… it promises to be a night she will never forget! Her last night…and my first, as supreme ruler of all mousedom!” As his men cheer for him, he calmly pinned his collar back and smoothed his hair, then saunters down the red carpet as a spotlight shone on him and an evil tune played. Ratigan: From the brain that brought you the Big Ben Caper The head that made headlines in every newspaper And wondrous things like the Tower Bridge Job That cunning display that made Londoners sob Now comes the real tour-de-force-- Tricky and wicked, of course-- My earlier crimes were fine for their times But now that I'm at it again An even grimmer plot has been simmering In my great criminal brain! Thugs: Even meaner? You mean it? Worse than the widows and orphans you drowned? You're the best of the worst around! Oh, Ratigan! Oh, Ratigan! The rest fall behind! To Ratigan! To Ratigan! The world's greatest criminal mind! Ratigan then began to play a harp as the lights dimmed to a blue shade. “Thank you, Thank you. But it hasn’t all been champagne and caviar. I’ve had my share of adversity, thanks to that miserable second-rate detective, Basil of Baker Street.” His attention then turned to the toy mouse dressed in detective attire, making his thugs boo in disgust at the second-rate detective their boss spoke off. “For years,” Ratigan mocked sadness, “that insufferable pipsqueak has interfered with my plans. I haven’t had a moment’s peace of mind.” “Awww…” “But, all that’s in the past! This time, nothing, not even Basil, can stand in my way! All will bow before me!” Thugs: Oh, Ratigan! Oh, Ratigan! You're tops and that's that! To Ratigan! To Ratigan! Bartholemew: To Ratigan, the world's greatest rat! At this, Ratigan spit out the wine he was drinking in shock as the thugs gasped. “What was that?!” Ratigan demanded. “What did you call me?!” All at once, three of the thugs tried to defend their colleague from facing Ratigan’s wrath. “Oh, oh, he didn’t mean it, professor.” “I-It was just a slip of the tongue!” Ratigan picked up the drunken mouse by the shirt collar. “I AM NOT A RAT!!!” “Of course not!” said a third thug. “You’re a mouse!” “Yeah, that’s right. Right! A mouse.” “Yeah, a big mouse!” “SILENCE!!!!!” Ratigan threw Bartholemew outside as the other thugs watched in terror at what would come next. “Oh, my dear Bartholomew… I’m afraid that you’ve gone and upset me,” he said dramatically. “You know what happens when someone upsets me…” He rung the bell from his pocket, and his thugs gasped in horror as they looked to the alleyway, where a shadow was approaching. An enormously fat cat, Felicia, is approaching the oblivious Bartholomew as he drunkenly began to sing. Oh, Ratigan... oh, Ratigan You’re the tops and that’s that Oh dear. To Ratigan, to Ratigan... The world’s grea-tee-e-e-e-est...! Before he could finish the song, a gulping noise was heard, followed by a content meow.  Felicia had swallowed the drunk mouse whole, never to be seen again. Two of the Thugs remove their hats and the third wiped a tear from his eye. All the while, Ratigan was cooing over his cat, wiping her mouth with his handkerchief. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh, Felicia, my precious, my baby. Did Daddy’s little honey bun enjoy her tasty treat?” Instead, Felicia burped in his face, and Ratigan looked a little dismayed before he turned and walked back inside. “ I trust there will be no further interruptions. And now, as you were singing?” Singing was the last thing the thugs were thinking about, but when Ratigan showed the bell again, the thugs began to sing out of panic. Thugs: Even louder! We'll shout it! No one can doubt what we know you can do! You're more evil than even you! (Whoo!) Oh, Ratigan! (Ha-ha!) Oh, Ratigan! (Yeeeaahhh!) You're one of a kind! (Ha ha!) To Ratigan! (Ha!) To Ratigan! (Olé!) The world's greatest criminal mind! After one final toast, Ratigan smirked-- someone very stupid would have to stand in his way now.