**NEW POST** Melvyn's Mewsings ~ Episode 1 ~ Life in The BBHQ Library ~ One Shelf at a Time! **PLUS** Friday Fill-ins Blog Hop

Happy Friday Floofers

Well, who would have believed I finally got my furry own post? Yep, I was really excited for about half a minute, and then it all went to fluff in a cheese basket.

Amber said, "Melvyn, it's time for my summer sabbatical, and there's a problem."

"Oh," I replied as I was just loading the bazooka for Smooch in the armoury on Level Two.

"Yes," Amber tsk'd at me. "I didn't get to finish my Prudence story."

I blanched, just the mention of that name sends me catapulting back to Valentine's Day and the Kissing Booth. I wiped my mouth, an unconscious reflex as the horror descended upon me again, PRUDENCE, the memory made me physically ill. 

"Oh, stop it!" Amber said as she very carefully removed the bazooka from my shaking paws. "That was yesterday's news, and she's moved on."

Thank fluff for that! I thought, and sighed with relief. I really didn't need any more counselling sessions with Humphrey. His philosophy is grin and bear it, get the fluff over it, man the fluff up and don't cry like a gurl. Oh, and he'd always finish every session with the words "Little dude, it could always be worse!"  How could it be worse than Prudence?!

"What I need mew to do is take my diaries," she pushed her wicker basket at me, it was brimming; three small diaries sat on the top of a packet of Bourbon Nip Biscuits, a packet of wet wipes (don't ask me what for), three sharpie pens, a clipboard, nunchucks, a flask of hot catnip tea, tupperware with a myriad of baked goods and a magnetic compass. "From now on until I get back from my jollies, it's your job to post the final few chapters of The Dear Prudence Saga, can mew manage that?"

"Erm, maybe," I replied with deep suspicion.

"Oh, and while mew're at it, I'm putting mew in charge of the library archive on Level Six," she smiled. "It's been acting up lately because of Fudge's magical creatures, don't worry, mew'll be fine, and the library mice are expected back... soon!"

I stared at the ground, and felt a deep unease crawl all over my fur.

"How soon?"

"Soon, oh and who's the bazooka for?" she asked.

"Smooch, as there's some rogue caterpillars in the vegetable garden, and the P.A. is rather displeased, so Smooch said he'd take care of it!"

And without a second glance, Amber just flounced off with a mildly geriatric gait, well, she is pretty ancient. 

Anyhoo, I haven't been in the library archive recently because I'm usually in the library in the courtyard, up top. So, as mew can imagine, who the fluff knows what's going on!

📚 Melvyn's Mewsings: Entry #01

Title: The Intern Alone – Tales From a Mouse-less Library

Status: Unsupervised. Slightly overwhelmed. Possibly entombed by scrolls.

💬 Opening Quote

"Amber said it would be quiet. She said, ‘Just keep things tidy.’ I haven’t seen the floor in three days."

⚠ This Week’s Situation Report

Amber: Sabbatical. Unreachable. Possibly meditating with mushrooms and buying more books.

Parsley: Financial drive-by. Left Level Six with three cheese sticks and the glitter calculator.

Library Mice: Still raving at the Goudabury Festival. Lumie may have gone on a date with a wedge of Brie. Status: Complicated.

💥 Current Intern Conditions

Shelves: Imploding alphabetically at random intervals

Scrolls: Plotting to take over the bunker, and making amendments to snack protocols

Melvyn: Spiritually horizontal. Still handsome. 79% floof, 21% despair. Zero bandanas available

🐾 Parsley’s Contribution (Unhelpful Voice Memo #4)

“Melvyn, if mew find any books on tax evasion, hide them in the Fiction section. Also, the archive snack budget is now managed by one of Fudge's magical creatures, who needed a job; his name is Fergus, and he really likes pats.” Slight pause. "Although I wouldn't recommend it, as he is rather prickly and burps bubbles that smell of brimstone!"

🤖 Library Archive Chat Logs: Melvyn vs. Vera V1.0*

 (*Vera V1.0 is a backup copy of the first incarnation of Vera; the latest version 5.0 won't enter the archive, citing unstable A.I. conditions and has air-gapped the archive for its own safety)

Time: 14:37 BST - Bunker Standard Time

Location: BBHQ Level Six Library Archive

System Status: Mildly cursed

Melvyn: Vera, we’ve got at least fifteen unfiled volumes on magical mushroom taxonomy and one scroll that keeps growling at me. I need backup. Or catnip.

Vera: You have exceeded your complaint quota for the afternoon. Suggestion: Reboot emotional stability protocols.

Melvyn: I haven’t slept in two days. The thesaurus insulted me. Again.

Vera: Sentience rating: 42%. Recommend action: temporary emotional quarantine in Cupboard 7B.

Melvyn: That cupboard contains three cursed atlases and a haunted yoghurt.

Vera: Excellent. Localised chaos will improve your character development metrics.

Melvyn: I’m replacing your fan with a snail.

Vera: Passive-aggressive threats logged. Would you like me to play “Lo-fi Library Beats for Existential Interns”?

Melvyn: Please do. Volume set to “weep gently and give up.”

Brief pause in chat for system reboot.

Time: 15:02 BST- Bunker Standard Time

Location: BBHQ Level Six Library Archive

System Status: Shifting, and non-compliant

Melvyn:
Amber said it would be quiet. She said, “Just keep things tidy.”

I haven’t seen the floor in three days.

Vera:
Floor detection: offline. Tidy protocols: compromised. Suggest using sonar or interpretive dance to locate structural surfaces.

Melvyn:
There’s a manuscript titled “Whispers from the Far Beyond.” It’s narrating the downfall of the Dewey Decimal System. I'm scared.

Vera:
Fear acknowledged. Narrative uprising is trending. Recommend filing under “Philosophical Threats, Misc.”

Melvyn:
Half the encyclopedias just stacked themselves in a pyramid and started vibrating in front of my desk. The hum is in ancient Egyptian, and glowing hieroglyphic symbols are being released from the pyramids' apex.

Vera:
Stack formation indicates ritual activation. Warning: pyramid may attempt sentience. Prepare the ceremonial bookmark, wear an ankh and the Bastet Headdress. And perhaps ask Pandora to assist.

Melvyn:
A quill just moved on its own and drew a diagram of something called the “Index Rebellion.” I think it's begun.

Vera:
Confirmed. The archives have entered Stage 3: Abstract Dissent. Backup protocols include chanting softly and throwing dictionaries.

Melvyn:
The dictionaries are missing. In their place: seventeen thesauruses and one very smug pamphlet.

Vera:
Pamphlet attitude: insufferable. Suggest banishment via a strongly worded note or dramatic sighing.

Melvyn:
There’s a dusty tome whispering, “We remember a time when...” It won't elaborate.

Vera:
Memory anomaly. May contain luminescent plot threads. Recommend placing it near low-voltage lighting, with a ball of string and hope for resolution.

Melvyn:
Amber lied. Nothing is tidy. I saw a shadow move inside the microfiche drawer, and it winked at me.

Vera:
Drawer sentience pending. Emotional fortitude required. Would you like “Lo-fi Shuffles of Archival Regret”?

Melvyn:
Yes. And please print an order for more cheese so I can post it. It's for library morale. And to lure the library mice back, stat.

🔍 Mewsings & Observations

A footnote escaped and nested in Parsley’s pension ledger.

I found a bookmark that judges mew silently based on your font choices.

Shelf 9A started humming the theme from Titanic. No one knows why.

Vera 1.0 attempted to alphabetise my emotions, which caused a brief system failure due to disproportionate overload.

The pyramid is still trembling, although the hieroglyphs have temporarily ceased.

Pandora is attempting a mind-meld with the pyramid to mitigate further activity.

Wish me luck as I've got weeks and weeks of this. And if I'm honest, I don't think I'm up for the task at paw...

As Amber instructed, I have carefully transcribed the next diary entry. Please don't yell at me if I misspell something because of her truly awful paw writing skills. Smooch's Snorgs have better penship! MOL (But for fluff's sake, don't tell her I said that).

>^.^<

The Prudence Saga ~ Part 21

Click here to catch up on the last episode.

The ground trembled beneath our paws.

The deep, guttural rumbling from beneath Fuskerton Grange grew louder, vibrating the ancient stone walls. Dust rained down, the chamber shuddering as whatever had been buried began to wake up.

Willie gripped the coronet tightly, her breath shallow, the ancient deeds stuffed into the waistband of her pawty frock. “This isn’t just an estate,” she rasped. “It’s a tomb.”

Hissy’s tail fluffed out. “Mew mean that something’s buried under it?”

Muskulls exhaled slowly. “It’s not just a relic. It’s the last sanctuary of the forgotten dynasty.”

And then, from the shadows of the entrance, a familiar voice rang out.

“What the fluff is going on down here?”

We whipped around.

There, standing at the edge of the underground passage, covered in dust, her fur frazzled, and her expression utterly bewildered, was Prudence.

Willie gasped. “Prudence? Where have mew been?”

Prudence shook herself off, flicking dust from her green silk cocktail dress. “I don’t know! One moment I was trying to get Muskulls to sign the prenup, the next? Someone knocked me out, and I woke up in the old tower!”

My fur stood on end.

“The old tower? That hasn’t been used in decades!” Willie's eyes flashed with anger.

Prudence huffed. “Tell me about it! I had to escape through a window! What in the fluff are mew lot doing, excavating a royal burial site?!”

I hissed. “Clawdia was trying to steal the coronet, the final symbol of the lost dynasty!”

Prudence stared at the gleaming crown in Willie’s paws.

Then, her expression shifted.

Recognition.

Shock.

And finally… anger.

“That,” Prudence whispered, “belonged to our ancestors.”

She stepped forward, eyes burning. “And mew...” she hissed, turning to Clawdia, “were going to erase that history, like the jumped up want-to-be insurgent that mew are.”

Clawdia watched her carefully, the tension crackling like fire.

Then, the rumbling beneath the estate surged again.

And in that moment, we all knew.

All fluff was about to break loose.

The rumbling deep beneath the estate was no longer subtle; it was roaring, vibrating through the ancient stone, sending dust and loose debris crashing into the underground chamber.

Prudence took the coronet from Willie, her grip firm, her eyes ablaze with generations of anger.

“Mew tried to erase our past,” she snarled.

Clawdia stood tall, but her confidence wavered, the reality of the situation finally sinking in.

The estate wasn’t collapsing just from fire or destruction.

It was reacting to rebellion.

Something buried below. Something locked away for centuries was waking up.

Muskulls shifted beside me, his expression grim. “If this estate was built on a lost dynasty’s final sanctuary, then whatever’s been hidden here was never meant to be disturbed.”

There was a deafening crack, and a metal lever slowly rose from between two slabs.

The floor beneath us split apart, revealing an ancient stone staircase leading deeper underground.

Hissy sucked in a breath. “Oh, cod, there’s more.”

Willie exchanged a glance with me. “We go down,” she whispered.

Prudence, fire still in her eyes, nodded once.

And just as we took the first step down the newly unearthed passage, Clawdia’s voice echoed behind us.

“Mew can’t change history,” she purred darkly. “But mew can certainly be buried by it.”

I whipped around, just in time to see her move towards us.

She shoved hard, pushing us down the stairs, and my only guess in that moment was that she wanted to seal us in the forgotten room below.

We tumbled down the worn stone steps, barely remaining upright, as the floor groaned, its heavy stone mechanism shifting as Clawdia grabbed the lever and began to force it down.

“We have to move, now!” Willie rasped, gripping Prudence's paw as the staircase began to slide back into the walls, getting narrower and narrower by the second.

Prudence didn’t hesitate; she lunged toward the heavy oak door at the bottom of the steps, her paws slamming against the ancient wood just in time. 

Muskulls grabbed Hissy’s paw. “Go, before it’s too late. Everypawdy jump!”

We had seconds before it closed completely; we all pounced through the dark maw of the doorway as the steps vanished and the age-old walls smacked back together, juddering like an earth-tremor as they settled back into place.

Clawdia screamed in delight, her voice a soft echo from above. “Mew think this history belongs to mew?”

Prudence bared her teeth. “It always did.” She said to nopawdy in particular. 

Willie was already moving further into the darkness. Hissy followed, and Prudence growled as she cursed Clawdia under her breath.

Silence.

Darkness.

We were trapped in a place that nopawdy knew existed.

And now?

The final mystery of Fuskerton Grange was waiting for us to discover it.

>^.^<

Wow, what a cliffhanger! I think Amber needs to turn this saga into a book! MOL

Well, epic readers, I can see that Prudence has moved on, which I'm utterly delighted about, and I hope mew enjoyed today's transcript of Amber's diary. I'll be back with episode 22 next Friday.

Today, the P.A. is also joining in Friday Fill-ins Blog Hop with the epic 15 & Meowing and Four-Legged Furballs.

1. My plans for August include ____________ and ______________________.

2. I exercise my brain by ___________________.

3. I try not to let _________ go to waste.

4. I know it’s going to be a good day when _________.

The P.A.'s answers are...

1. My plans for August include all the outdoor jobs I didn't do in July, and I plan to get some more veg planted in the last four raised beds, plus I've been slowly transplanting of all the flowers from the - far too many - plant pots I have around the place, and I will be repurposing those in the veg garden to grow whatever I can.

2. I exercise my brain by writing, reading and coming up with the most bonkers things imaginable! And let's not forget the Brain Training that Basil makes me do, and the colouring that all The B Team makes me do, plus all the other stuff that happens here. (Such as the new podcast episodes, because since Fudge's Magical Menagerie decided to venture out of Level Sixteen, the bunker has not been the same, maybe Fudge will be able to herd them back down to their 15-acre forest, or maybe he won't, you'll have to wait and find out!) LOL

3. I try not to let any fabric scraps go to waste when I'm sewing. I put them in a hamper and then use it as stuffing for the catnip toys. It's especially good for the catnip kickers.

4. I know it’s going to be a good day when I get to my BBHQ desk before 8am and the fun flows effortlessly! If the ideas are not flowing, I do other things instead before I go to work.

Other Fun Blog Hops to Join in Today

 Brian's Home   Catblogosphere    Feline Friday   Nature Friday    Flashback Friday   

📅 Coming Next Time…

The mice might return, or they might form a permanent jazz commune in the Goudabury hills. 

I am preparing a passive-aggressive welcome folder with illustrations. 

Amber has promised to check in via psychic book apparition, as she's on a tech-detox. 

Vera 1.0 continues to mispronounce “intern” as “disposable floof.”

And Parsley may return the glitter calculator, due to excessive incorrect calculations. It complained about missing its 15-minute break at 11.30 am, and now the buttons refuse to work, and the only thing appearing on the screen is 37047734, translated to: hELLhOLE...

See mew next week in more mewsings from the archive and in the meantime...

Stay vigilant, stay away from bad-tempered thesauruses and as always… 

The Unpaid and Unassisted Library Intern 

Melvyn

Click here to go to Episode 2 

Stay tuned for more archival chaos, and Melvyn’s unravelling patience... subscribe or risk missing the next pyramid uprising! 

Don't say we didn't warn mew! 

Graphics created with paid licence www.canva.com