Person (or animal) of Interest – Squeaky Cheeks

This character was the idea of my eldest daughter

Name: Squeaky Cheeks

Age: 3

Appearance:  Squeaky Cheeks is a hamster approximately 4 inches long, and extremely fat.  A ragged scar runs over one of his beady black eyes. When humans aren’t present he wears a pinstripe Zoot Suit and a Trilby.  He often tosses pieces of hamster food when dressed this way.

Description:  No one knows why the animals of Dilby Street gained sentience.  One day they were normal animals, the next they were aware. Most animals just continued on as normal, dogs loved their masters, cats hunted mice and birds with even more gusto, enjoying their screams and begging.

One animal did not want business as usual.  Squeaky Cheeks wanted more than this foolish cage and dry kibble.  He wanted more, but he had no idea how to get it. That is until his owner, a pathetic boy named Tim, watched a few gangster flicks on his computer.  Squeaky saw how the leader was not the strongest, fastest or most dangerous, but the smartest. He knew he was smart. That night he took a piece of paper the human had tossed in to be chewed up and a piece of pencil lead that feel in with it and wrote his plan.

First, he recruited the small animals, the mice, birds, guinea pigs and of course other hamsters.  He did this by explaining how with numbers they could overwhelm their oppressors. For months, every night he went and gave speeches, read about gangster warfare, and gathered an army.  During this time he found the doll’s suit and hat, and he was thrilled.

Next came the cats.  They had to pick out solo ones at first.  They would overwhelm them and Squeaky in his suit gave them the rundown.  Either they joined his family or the birds would peck out their eyes, and diseased rats will bite your legs.  One cat named Chucklehead got a claw across Squeaky’s eye, nearly blinding him. The first few refused and the first few wandered to their fellows and owners blind and sick.  Word got around fast and the cats who were targeted often surrendered without a fight.

One thing he hadn’t counted on was that a hyper aggressive chiquaqua named Shakes had organized the dogs into a paramilitary force.  He now had a force of cats and small animals, and he knew if he could get one of his assassins to Shakes the neighborhood would be his. Of course, Shakes probably thought the same about him.

Published by Robert C Hartwell

I live in Northeastern Vermont in the US. I am currently working towards becoming an author. I am the proud father of two great kids.

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