The INSIDE SCOOP

If I told you what I did for a living, you’d laugh.

Well, that, and you wouldn’t believe me. Which is why I’ve been a bit hesitant to talk about it, until now. I’m supposed to share more, you see. That’s what my therapist says. Although I’m sure she doesn’t believe me either.

Let me be clear, I am so grateful for this job, regardless of how mirthful you may find it. They saw through my reserved demeanour, you see. They didn’t care how quiet I was. In fact, that was probably the single thing that I had in common with them.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start at the beginning. I was positively jubilant when the HR department reached out to me. Who wouldn’t want to head Public Relations at the world’s largest and most famous ice cream manufacturer? It was a dream come true.

And so what if the voice on the phone sounded odd, squeaky even? Maybe they were as excited to have me as I was to join them.

Come day one at the new job, I was dressed in my sharpest suit. I grinned as the receptionist exclaimed ‘say cheese!’, although I must admit his own smile was wider, as though amused at some great jest that only he was privy to.

His office was grey, unremarkable, and smelled faintly of aged cheddar. He was short, and tried to make up for this by speaking as loudly as he could. He rose from his seat and offered his hand to shake, and I stooped down and encased it in a firm, but not too firm, grip. I didn’t want to hurt him, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings either.

He beamed up at me as he spoke.

“So! Mr. Hussain! I am so glad you took us up on this offer. I’m sure we are going to do great things together!”

“The pleasure is all mine!” I couldn’t keep the joy out of my voice. “This really is my dream job! Although the circumstances are a bit… unusual.”

He nodded, sagely as he stroked his tail. “Yes, it’s best we address the elephant in the room…although I imagine if there really was one in here, it would be terrified of me.”

Mr. Nibble and the entire senior management of the company were members of the Mus Musculus family, more commonly known as the regular house mouse. But of course, there was nothing ‘regular’ about Nibble and his colleagues. For starters, they all held MBAs, for starters. The proliferation of remote learning following the COVID pandemic had done wonders for the rodent population’s literacy rates.

“There is something that pains me greatly, Mr. Hussain.” said the company’s tiny CEO. “We have come so far, and we have such big plans for the company. Like expanding the product range tenfold. 310 flavours of delicious mice cream, Mr. Hussain, can you imagine that!”

“That would indeed be incredible.” I agreed.

“It would be a move received with thunderous applause, if it were to come from one of your species. But from a mouse, well… I doubt they would take it that well.”

There was an awkward pause as he looked up at me, his whiskers quivering. Then he sighed.

“Forgive me, Mr. Hussain. I am getting emotional. Mankind has not been kind to mousekind over the years. But it’s all water under the bridge now. You, Mr. Hussain, are going to help bridge the gap between our species.”

Just then, the door to his office swung open, and four smartly dressed rodents marched in, hefting a single kids’ scoop-sized cup of ice cream between them. They placed it in front of me and swiftly retreated out of the room.

Mr. Nibble had an expectant look on his face. “Please take a spoonful, it’s ceremonial. You will be the first human to join our ranks, our… human face, if you will.”

I obliged. Delicious as the ice cream was, it couldn’t dislodge my growing sense of wonder and existential befuddlement… 

I was now a PR manager for an ice cream conglomerate led by mice.