It was opened by a three-foot-tall mouse in a starched suit.
22
Alan Dean Poster
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
23
Sound flooded over Jon-Tom as the doormouse looked him
over.
“Step inside and enjoy, sir,” he finally said, moving
aside.
Jon-Tom nodded and entered. The doormouse closed the
door behind him.
He found himself in a parlor full of fine furniture and a
wild assortment of creatures representing several dozen
species. All were cavorting without a. care as to who they
happened to be matching up with. There were several
humans in the group, men and women. They moved freely
among their intelligent furry counterparts.
Jon-Tom noted the activity, listened to the lascivious
dialogue, saw the movement of hands and paws, and
suspected he had not entered a bar. No question what kind
of place this was. He was still surprised, though he
shouldn’t have been. It was a logical place to look for
Mudge.
Still, he didn’t want to take the chance of embarrassing
himself. First impressions could be wrong. He spoke to the
doormouse.
“I beg your pardon, but this is a whorehouse, isn’t it?”
The mouse’s voice was surprisingly deep, rumbling out
of the tiny gray body. “All kinds we get in here,” he
muttered dolefully, “all kinds. What did you think it was,
jack? A library?”
“Not really. There aren’t any books.”
The doormouse showed sharp teeth in a smile. “Oh, we
have books, too. With pictures. Lots of pictures, if that’s
to your taste, sir.”
“Not right now.” He was curious, though. Maybe later,
after he’d found Mudge.
“You look like you’ve been a-traveling, sir. Would