Hi,
Cuz!
” He snickered at the look
of shock on my snout. “Did you see how
many fabumouse candidates we have here?
Picking the players is going to be a blast!”
ALMOST THERE . . .
THIS WAY!
Rat-munching robots! I should have
known that this was all Trap’s doing!
“Um, yes, there sure are a lot of
them
,” I squeaked. “Too bad that I have so
much to do in the control room today — you
know, captain stuff . . .”
He smirked. “The only work you’re doing
today is as TEAM CAPTAIN! Grandfather
William ordered Thea to take over
command of the ship for you. He was the
one who told me to organize the TRYOUTS,
too. If we had waited for you to do it, we
wouldn’t be ready for
LIGHT-YEARS
!”
Before I could even squeak, Trap patted
me on the back. “Cheer up, Gerrykins!
Finally, you’re going to have a little fun
instead of staying holed up writing that
long, boring BOOK of yours.”
What could I do? Resigned, I followed
Trap and the hopeful soccerix players to the
MouseStar 1’s TECHNOGYM. We
started by selecting the goalie and the center
fielders. It took two astrohours, but in the
end we chose TIM WHISKERKICKS as
the goalie and the TAILTWISTER twins —
David and Alex — as midfielders.
The forwards lined up to take
some shots toward the goal.
What a cosmic disaster!
BONK!
OUCH!
The whole thing ended
with:
1. a plasma screen in
SHATTERS
.
2. a ball LAUNCHED
into the galaxy.
3. another ball FLYING
into my snout!
Trap frowned. “No,
this is no good. There’s
only one solution.”
A
chill
ran down my
tail. What fur-brained
plan did my cousin
have in mind?
Trap announced, “We need some Dog
Star fondue
! With full stomachs, we’ll
be able to judge the players better.”
I breathed a SIGH of relief as we
headed to the Space Yum Café. Food was a
good idea.
Squizzy, our onboard cook, greeted us
happily. “Hello! I’ve prepared a menu rich
in protein for you — BOILED BLUE ALGAE!”
Yuck!
We protested, “But we want
fondue!”
Squizzy looked at us sharply. “No, you need
to nourish yourselves like athletes— under
ORDERS from your coach, William Stiltonix!”
start, sprInt,
sHoot!
The next morning was our first TEAM
practice. We hadn’t found any alternate
players yet, but at least there were seven
of us to start with— me, Trap, Bugsy,
Benjamin, Whiskerkicks, and the
Tailtwister twins!
I woke up, ready as I would ever be to head
to the technogym. Assistatrix
handed me my clothes, but something was
wrong!
“This isn’t my
gym outfit
,” I said,
shaking my snout.
“This is your soccerix uniform, Captain,”
Assistatrix explained. “An astrotaxi
is waiting to take you to the practice field.
You’re already late!”
With that, Assistatrix grabbed me by the
tail and dragged me to the ASTROTAXI.
I was off!
Out on the field, my teammates were
already
RUNNING LAPS
to warm
up. Sally de Wrench was there, too. She’d
offered to be an alternate player, since she
was too busy with her regular work to
FROM THE ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA
(FASHION SECTION)
SOCCERIX UNIFORM
Thermal tear-proof shirt
Anti-cramping shorts
Springy, elastic sneakers
TEAM FORMATION
Geronimo Stiltonix (defender)
Trap Stiltonix (defender)
Benjamin Stiltonix (forward)
Bugsy Wugsy (forward)
David Tailtwister (midfielder)
Alex Tailtwister (midfielder)
Tim Whiskerkicks (goalie)
Sally de Wrench (alternate)
play full-time. I GAWKED at her
in admiration —
holey
craters
, what a
multitalented mouse!
Before I could squeak, a
METALIC
VOICE
startled me. “Captain, you’re late!
Start running! SPRINT, SPRINT,
SPRINT!
”
I spun around. “Robotix! What are you
doing here?”
“He’s my assistant, you cosmic
cheesebrain!” my grandfather boomed.
“Now don’t waste another moment. Just
follow the orders. SPRINT, SPRINT,
SPRINT!
”
I ran up behind
the others. By the
time I finished one
lap
around the
field, my legs were
as wobbly as a stick of Martian mozzarella.
Oh, for the love of cheese. I still had to do
jumps, sprints, push-ups . . . and
then actually play some soccerix!
After a while, Robotix announced,
“Now it is time to try some passes and try
shooting at the goal.”
MY
BLOCK!
MY . . . HEADER!
MY
KICK!
boing
boing
boing
BONK
Thwack
Huh?
After my many
awkward
attempts
to kick the ball, Benjamin came over
and showed me what to do. I tried a big
kick —I absolutely did NOT want to let
my nephew down! And this time, I managed
to connect my foot with the ball . . . but it
sailed right over the goal and out of
bounds. Rats!
a stellar
soccerIx plaYer
Benjamin clapped his paws and cheered.
“Good job, Uncle! You
kicked
it
that time!”
“But now I have to go find the ball!”
Robotix grumbled.
Before he could move, the ball appeared
again, lit up bright and fiery red. It sailed back
over the field —and headed STRAIGHT
into the goal!
“COSMIC CHEDDAR!” I exclaimed.
“Who kicked that incredible shot?”
Benjamin squeaked, “It was a galactic
goal!”
“A galactic . . . what?” I asked.
“There’s a special spot on the ball,”
Benjamin explained. “If you kick that spot,
it doubles in speed and POWER —you get a
surefire goal! But only true champions
can do it.”
While Benjamin was explaining, a little
mouse
appeared on the sideline. He grinned
and waved his paw.
“Hey! What’s your name?” Trap asked.
The little mouse answered, “LIONEL.
Lionel Ratessi.”
“And I’m Penny, his mom,” said a rodent,
walking up behind the young mouse.
Trap shook her paw enthusiastically.
“Based on that GALACTIC GOAL
we just saw, your son seems to be an out-of-
this-world soccerix player!”
Penny gave a small smile. “Yes, he’s
GOOD
with a ball. It’s a shame he isn’t
quite as good at school!” She LOOKED
at Lionel reproachfully.
GRANDFATHER WILLIAM
walked up and asked, “Ma’am, would you
let your son
kick
the ball with
us for a bit?”
“No, we were just going —”
Penny began.
But then Lionel
jumped in, begging,
“Please, Mom? Just a
few kicks!”
“Oh, all right!” his
mother said with a sigh.
“I’m going to buy some spare parts for our
shine-all robot, but as soon as I come
back, we’re heading home.” She waved and
walked away.
With a huge grin, Lionel grabbed the ball
and showed off his SKILLS.
“Lionel, you’re really a fabumouse player!”
said Grandfather William, watching in awe.
The time flew by, but soon Penny came
back to get Lionel.
Grandfather walked up to Lionel’s
mother and said, “We would like your
son to officially join the SPACEMICE
SOCCERIX TEAM. We’re preparing
for the championship, and he’s the all-star
forward we were missing!”
Penny frowned and crossed her arms. “I’m
sorry, but I’m afraid not. Lionel needs to do
his ROBOTICS
*
homework.”
As they were walking away, I suddenly
had a STELLAR IDEA! “Penny,
wait!” I called. “Let Lionel play with us,
and I promise that when we get back, he
can do an accelerated robotics course with
Sally de Wrench, our official onboard
technician.”
Penny narrowed her eyes. “Hmmm. Is
Miss de Wrench experienced?”
“She is the most experienced on the
spaceship —I mean, in all the galaxy— no,
in the whole universe!” I said confidently.
“Well, in that case . . .” Penny said with a
small smile. “All right.”
*
Robotics is a subject exploring how to create and program robots.
tIme to
Blast off!
We practiced all day, every day for twelve
days. It was astronomically tiring!
But now we seemed almost like a real
team, even if Grandfather William still
HOLLERED at me every once in a while
because of my silly mistakes. Luckily, we
had Lionel, who always stunned us with his
CHAMPION-CALIBER kicks!
The day we were leaving for the
tournament, Thea arrived to transport
us to the planet ATHLETICA in her
little space pod. The whole team was there,
including MouseStar 1’s cook, Squizzy!
Huh?
“You’re coming, too?” I asked him.
“Of course!” Squizzy said. “You’re going
to need my boiled algae. After all,
a balanced diet is essential for any self-
respecting athlete!”
I was about to go COSMIC, but Trap
whispered in my ear. “Don’t
WORRY
, Gerry
Berry. My bag is stuffed with aged cheeses!”
Whew!
Speaking of bags . . . where was mine, the
one with all my
clothes in it?
“Holey craters, I forgot my bag! We can’t
leave yet!” I yelled.
Grandfather William shot me a
PIERCING glare. “If you weren’t the
team captain, I would leave you behind!”
I turned to scurry to my cabin, but just
then Assistatrix arrived in a hurry
with my bag.
BAM !
We ran into each other head-on! My
bag flew into the air —and the stuff inside
went
EVERYWHERE
! Everyone saw
my matching cheese-patterned
pajamas and my lucky
yellow socks
Oh, for all
of Saturn’s
rings, what a
fool I made of
myself!
let tHe games
BegIn!
“Look! There’s ATHLETICA!”
Benjamin announced, pointing out
the window of Thea’s ship.
I peeked out and saw a planet
that looked a lot like ... a
soccerix ball!
I had just begun to
consult the Encyclopedia
Galactica to find out
more about the SEPTIMALS,
the inhabitants of Athletica, when
a squawking voice came out of
the spaceship communicator:
“Welcome, spacemice!
You can land in area 158!”
“Message received!” Thea responded.
Turning to us, she said, “Fasten your seat
belts — we’re about to land!”
A few moments later, the space pod
touched down on Athletica, and we all
DISEMBARKED. We waved to Thea—she
was heading back to pilot the MouseStar 1
while I was gone.
When we turned around, a delegation of
From the Encyclopedia
Galactica
THE SEPTIMALS
These are the inhabitants
of the planet Athletica.
They are historic soccerix
champions! They often win,
thanks to their blender
technique: By swirling their
seven legs, they are able to
kick the ball incredibly far
and fast. They even train with
seven balls at the same time!
Bonk
Bonk
Bonk
Bonk
Bonk
Bonk
Let
me
through!
Ouch!
BANG
SEPTIMALS with welcome banners were
waiting for us!
The septimal who had sent us the video
message
two weeks earlier walked up to
me. “In the name of the septimals, I welcome
you to Athletica. We are so HAPPY that you
accepted our invitation!”
He kindly directed us to our hotel so we
could settle in. On the way, Sally de Wrench
was SHOVED by a large, green, and very
unfriendly alien. He didn’t even apologize!
How
RUDE
! I
had to say
something.
Gathering
my courage,
I approached
the alien and
said, “Excuse
me, but you owe Miss de Wrench an
apology!”
He peered at me seriously—and then
laughed in my face! I almost fa
inted because
his breath was so galactically stinky.
Then he hissed, “The
ZOMBORGS
don’t ever apologize. Remember that, rat!”
He turned around and left without another
word. Cosmic cheese balls, how awful!
Once I regained my senses, Robotix
explained, “Those are the zomborgs, Captain.
They are another team that will participate
in the soccerix tournament. Unfortunately,
they are very hard to beat!”
“Especially if they breathe in your
face,” Trap muttered, chuckling and waving
a paw in front of his snout.
But I didn’t feel like laughing. Those aliens
seemed
VERY DANGEROUS
!
THE ZOMBORGS
These are the inhabitants of the
planet Penaltex, famouse for their
aggressive behavior and rudeness.
On the soccerix field, they are
feared for being relentless rule
breakers.
From the Encyclopedia
Galactica
Lost in thought, I didn’t even notice that
we had arrived at our hotel. Grandfather
William decided how we would divide up
the rooms. I ended up sharing a room
with Trap— who was famouse among the
spacemice for his galactic snoring!
SPACEMICE TAKE
THE FIELD!
After a sleepless NIGHT because of
Trap’s thunderous snoring, I was summoned
by Robotix at the crack of dawn. It was
time for the opening game against the
gelatinix aliens!
Everyone was impatient to get on the
field . . . except me!
Then I heard a familiar holler. It was
Grandfather William, who looked relaxed
and REFRESHED after a night in the fancy
imperial suite on the 112th floor of the hotel.
“SO, GRANDSON, ARE YOU READY? If
you make me look foolish today, I may have
to leave you on this planet!”
“O-of course, Grandfather!” I stammered.
At that moment, Sally’s sweet voice cut in.
“
ADMIRAL
STILTONIX
, the captain
has made great progress. I am sure he’ll be
fabumouse in today’s game!”
The Galactic Goal (Geronimo Stilton Spacemice #4) Page 2