Well, fans, I finished my first three months of service in the Territorial Army Reserves some weeks ago now, and who would have thought that I would travel all the way from Swansea to the Port of Dover only to find a neighbour from my own street serving in the very same unit? So just picture my amazement when, after leaving the barracks, I found myself riding home on the train with someone who had actually served on my team during this whole tour of duty – none other than Private McAcker, the IT wonder kid! Now George McAcker is a friendly brown rat with a laid-back, easy going nature, who is always ready to help without waiting to be asked. Thus it was, that after hearing that I lived alone with no telephone or any other modern means of communication, he immediately offered to procure me a recycled handset and sign me up for the new rodent mobile phone service that was just taking off in our area. And though in truth I had little use for such perplexing high-tech devices, seeing how proud it would make him to assist a huge celebrity like me, I hadn’t the heart to refuse him. And I’m afraid that this, dear fans, is how I got into rather a spot of bother…

Well, as soon as he got the go-ahead from me, off went George to the Recycling Centre to check out the ever-popular small electrical appliances bin. And sure enough, a cursory glance inside identified no less than three discarded mobiles, one of which was an iPhone 6 in mint condition! Bagging this immediately, he then brought it back to my house and used his highly classified hacker’s formula to break through the security lock and restore the device to factory settings. At this point I have to confess that it truly was an impressive piece of kit! For a creature of my stature it was more than equal in size to what humans call a wide screen TV, and was able to function not only as a television, but also a radio, a phone, a camera and a very sophisticated computer. As well as acquiring the device itself, George managed to provide a stand to place it on, a phone charger and a compatible keyboard, too, that I could use to type text into the search engine or one of the many smartphone apps while looking up at the lovely supersize screen. But of course, few of these functions could have worked without a phone or internet connection, and so for a modest monthly fee he signed me up with his own service provider, Ro-Go Mobile. And it must be said, for the first day or two everything went fine. It was, however, following yet more helpful advice from the tekkie, that things took a decided turn for the worse… and this is how it happened:

For years I had been going down to the supermarket, buying a week’s worth of groceries, and then struggling back up the hill with bags that weighed a ton. So when George pointed out that I could actually make my purchases online and have my local store deliver them right to my door, I couldn’t have been more delighted. Here at last was a way to shop that would put an end to that drudgery once and for all! And thus it was, that thanks to this great technology I promptly signed up for a customer account, and placed my very first order on the spot. But who would have thought that a few freshly baked bread rolls could get me into so much trouble?

Well, I mean, really! Am I the only rat in the world who has ever made an honest mistake? All I wanted to do was reward George for his assistance by holding a small get-together in his honour, to which happy occasion I had invited a number of friends and neighbours wishing to meet this new-found technical wizard. To keep things easy I had chosen to make a buffet supper, and so I figured – what meal could be simpler to prepare than bread and cheese, and some bowlfuls of tasty salads? A quick headcount of my intended guests meant that I should order seven bread rolls, which I duly noted on the form. But on doing the maths again, I realised I’d left a few people out, so to correct the original quantity I then typed ‘8’ into the box, and completed the rest of my order. After that, I read and accepted the Terms and Conditions, then clicked to agree the amount payable for my purchases. Finally, with the party food now sorted, I congratulated myself on a job well done and then settled back to await the delivery.

However, when many hours passed with no sign of my groceries, I started to get concerned. I was just thinking that I really ought to call the store, when all at once there was a loud knocking at my front door. And so imagine my reaction, when, as I rushed to open it, my eyes were met by a breathless old toad who stared wearily back at me, mopping his brow with a bright red handkerchief.

‘Lord Grumpkin of Grumblemore? I’ve got your order waiting outside,’ he told me in a rasping voice, wheezing heavily as from a major exertion.

‘Ah, good – just bring it into the kitchen, if that’s all right. Here, look, I’ve weighed your earthworms and put them in this tub,’ I told him, pushing the container forward for him to take in exchange for the goods.

The amphibian blinked quizzically at my offering for several seconds before responding. ‘And what is that, exactly?’

‘Well, my payment, of course. The price listed on your website for eight bread rolls and all my other items is five hundred grams of live worms.’ Puzzled by his reaction, I wondered if he thought my tub wasn’t large enough to contain this quantity. ‘Would you like to check the weight on your own scales?’ I suggested kindly. But to my surprise he was clearly upset.

‘No, no!’ he said pointedly, fixing me with a narrowing gaze. ‘That’s not eight rolls. That’s seventy eight rolls.’

‘Seventy eight rolls?’ For a minute I thought he must be joking, so I burst out laughing. Then as his face of stone glared back at me, I realised with horror that he was in deadly earnest. ‘Hey, look – I’m a rat-sized person ordering human-sized food, for goodness’ sake!’ I cried. ‘What on earth would I do with seventy eight bread rolls?’

‘Only you can answer that, Lord Grumpkin. My job is simply to deliver your purchases and collect the payment,’ came the reply.

‘Well, there must have been a computer error, that’s all. Can’t you just take the extra ones back?’

‘Take them back…?’ At the very suggestion the old toad seemed suddenly faint, swaying slightly in the breeze. Then, rebounding just as suddenly, ‘Didn’t you read the T&C’s?’ he demanded stormily. ‘It plainly says, no refunds, no returns, and payment in full to be made at the time of delivery.’

‘Well, yes, it’s true, it does say that,’ I’m forced to concede.

‘And isn’t it also true that according to this invoice, the total cost of your order, including the surcharge for overweight consignments, is thirty nine kilos of earthworms?’ Now he was striking the document with an angry fist.

‘It’s HOW much? Here, let me see that!’ I exclaimed in disbelief, snatching it out of his hands. And then as the awful truth filtered through to my frazzled brain, ‘But this is preposterous, where in the world am I going to find thirty nine kilos of live earthworms at such short notice?’

My question was followed by a prolonged pause from the toad, whose face had just brightened as from a new, inspiring thought. Then after calmly detaching the invoice from between my fingers, he produced a pair of spectacles from his pocket and began to read aloud the small print at the bottom of the page…

‘To all our Superstore customers, please note the following:  

  For anyone who does not pay,  

  We have a law, by which we say:  

  For every kilo that you owe  

  You’ll work one day for us! And so  

  Report for duty, don’t delay –  

  Because this job will start today!’

Hearing this, I was totally gobsmacked. ‘What – ME, work for the supermarket?’ 

But conversely, the old toad was now beaming broadly. ‘Let’s see, thirty nine days’ work… that’s five and a half weeks, give or take. Well, I haven’t had a day off in ten years, so I reckon they must owe me at least that much in holiday time, don’t you?’ And as clouds of dismay descended on my spirit, he tossed me the ropes to his cart, stacked high with all the goods I had ordered, and then said, ‘You know the way down to the store. You can take this lot back there when you report for your first duty – which, if I’m not mistaken, will start in just fifteen minutes.’

‘Fifteen minutes?’I couldn’t believe it, this was an impossible deadline.

‘Yes, I know that’s pushing it a bit, but what do I care?’ he went on cheerily. ‘After all, for the next thirty nine days I’ll be living it up in Spain, won’t I?’

‘In Spain? No, please, I’ll get you the worms, I promise I will, just give me more time!’

The toad, however, remained unmoved. ‘Sorry, Grumpkin, no can do. I’m sure you’ve guessed this already, but in case you still haven’t twigged it, from now on it’s official: Starting today you’re the new Superstore delivery man. That means you’ll be taking my place until I return… if I ever do return, that is.’

‘What absolute nonsense, you can’t make me do that! I’m one thousand three hundred and thirteenth in line to the throne of Rattyland, for heaven’s sake. What if all the other royals die, and they need me to rule the kingdom?’

But ignoring my very reasonable protests, to my annoyance the old toad was already turning to leave. ‘Hasta la vista, Grumpkin!’ he called brightly over his shoulder.  ‘Just remember to mind the tricky little field mouse at number five. She’s housekeeper to that new brown rat who’s moved into the owner’s barn – Jasper, I think they call him. Anyway, I’d stay away from her, if I were you. She really ought to be in the Magic Circle, in my view. Even when you’re sure that nothing’s moving, she’ll steal groceries off your cart under your very nose… and trust me, if that happens, it certainly won’t be her who replaces them!’ Then before I could utter another word, he took one giant leap forwards and started hopping down the hill.

Well, fans, I could hardly say I was sorry when he was gone. But surely it couldn’t be true, surely he hadn’t really just signed me up as his own replacement Superstore delivery man?

No, of course not, I said to myself. As I had signed no employment contract, I was plainly under no legal obligation to take his place. In fact, as I considered it logically, if the old toad was now on his way to Spain, then who was there left to tell the store I was supposed to be doing his work? And who was going to pursue me if I didn’t turn up for duty? So with the help of these and many other reassuring thoughts I heaved an immense sigh of relief, then turned my attention back to the mountain of perishables still sitting outside GRUMBLEMORE. Well, my sensible thinking went on – wasting food was wrong, wasn’t it? So why not do the ethically correct thing, and abandon the modest thank-you supper for George in favour of a great big bash in my own honour? What a brilliant, absolutely perfect idea!

With that, invitations promptly went out to the whole neighbourhood, and in no time the place was heaving with guests who tucked into the plentiful food and revelled in this spontaneous festive occasion. Well, the party continued long into the small hours, and quite naturally nobody wanted to leave. They were so happy to get a free meal that they were all binging non-stop on the goodies, and just couldn’t stay away from the table. On top of this, of course, there was also much wine, music and dancing. Indeed there was such a lot of confusion and noise that it’s a wonder I heard it at all…

It was a soft, pleasant sound, a sort of high pitched warbling cry that kept repeating itself at precisely timed intervals. Could it be a bird, I wondered? But most birds sing in the daytime, and this was the dead of night. I was still puzzling over what it might be when George appeared by my side.

‘Aren’t you going to get that, Grumpkin?’ he asked me, surprised.

‘Get what?’ I asked him back, equally surprised.

‘It’s your phone,’ he said, ‘you need to answer it.’

‘Oh, I see,’ said I. ‘Well, what should I do?’ It was the first time I’d heard it ring, and I hadn’t a clue how to take the call.

‘Here, let me,’ he offered. And so saying, he pressed a couple of buttons and beckoned me over to the screen. Then as he made signs at me to say something, I bent forward to speak…

‘Hello,’ I said to the unknown caller, ‘you’ve reached Lord Grumpkin of Grumblemore. How may I help you?’

‘Ah, at last, Lord Grumpkin, this is your local Superstore! We were expecting you at 6pm yesterday, and we’ve been trying to get through to you for ages.’

‘You’re calling from the Superstore?’ My blood ran cold.

‘Yes, that’s right, Lord Grumpkin. Your predecessor Mr. Toad has telephoned us to say that he’s now in Spain, and that you’ve taken over his job. Please bring all your unpaid groceries with you and report for duty immediately. After all, you still haven’t delivered yesterday’s goods, and you have another full round of deliveries today!’