[ IP ] The Last Stand

It was with ferocious concentration that Gregory Handles put the tiny ornate helmet on the mouse, his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth slightly. Straightening up, he took in the whole scene. He was on the whole pleased with what he saw. He toyed with the idea of moving the cat an inch further away, but he knew if he started messing with things now, it would never be finished. 
 
 It was time. He unfolded a tripod and affixed the camera. Before taking the picture, he ran through a mental checklist. White mouse: check. Brown mouse: check. Cat in the distance: check. Tiny swords and shields, purchased at obscene expense from a craftsman in Prague: check. Had he missed anything? 
 
 `` Oh!'' he said, and went over to the closet. He removed a bulky machine and carried it over to the camera, setting it up just out of frame. He grunted as he bent to plug a power cord into the wall, and hit a switch on the side of the device. A mechanical purring was heard, and before long the floor of the basement was covered in a thin layer of rolling smoke. 
 
 `` Perfect!'' 
 
 Gregory returned to the camera, and - after one final check - squinted through the lens and pressed the button. *Click! * 
 
 The camera was an old fashioned one, which printed a small square photo directly after the picture had been taken. Gregory held the picture gently and flapped it in the air to help it develop. When the image finally formed, he looked at it and released a deep and contented sigh. 
 
 This done, he gathered up the various things from around the basement. He took the photograph, the camera, the tripod, the dry-ice machine, the mice, the cat, the tiny armaments, the Do-it-Yourself Home Taxidermy Kit and put them all in a black plastic bag. He carried the bag up the basement stairs and blinked a little as he emerged into the late afternoon sunlight. 
 
 Whistling, he took the bag out through the backdoor, and tossed it into the large aluminum garbage can. He went inside to the living room, stopping by the kitchen to grab a drink. He settled into a large mauve armchair, and cracked open the still-cold can of Redbull Pomegranate. He savored the first sip as he leaned back and thought about some cakes he'd seen once.
