Back To Black

"What on earth have you been doing!" Came a falsetto yell from the kitchen.
Millhouse stared silently with blank green eyes back into Mrs eyes, with his ears flattened akimbo; the sort of behaviour forwhich he was well known. He's as oft in trouble as he is seen eating. I trotted to the kitchen doorway; eager to see what was afoot.
A foot was definitely afoot! ..and a face afoot too; both being sooty black to boot. Or boot black chops with sooty foot. (Ooh sorry!) And Mrs. had nearly blacked out too...from shock that is. You know - figuratively speaking - well of course not literally.
I heard the familiar words, "You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be taken down and later used in evidence against you."
He didn't say anything; or wouldn't! After all,'I'm a cat' he must have been thinking.
Thence followed a lively discussion between humans Mister and Mrs.
'Where could he have got so dirty?'
'Did he stick that inquisitive paw in a car exhaust pipe?'
'Don't think so. Or why would his face be black too?'
'Has he been up someones' chimney?'
'Why would he do that?'
Millhouse set about his tea greedily and ignored all the fuss as best he could - his ears gave him away a bit.
Forensic analysis of said blackness indicated coal. The general human consensus eventually settling on next door's coal bunker as the likely scene of crime. A mouse, most likely, had given old Millhouse the slip. Wriggled amongst the neighbour's winter coal store, and Millhouse had persisted determinedly with the chase within a whisker of becoming carbonised.
As there was little substantiating evidence and no known victim, no charges were brought.
Now, had it been me in this escapade, being of an overall black appearance, no-one would have been any the wiser, would they!



Herky