Honestly, fans, I can tell you, I was livid! Since my party guests had consumed all the food I ordered online, there were of course no items left for me to return to the Superstore when I reported there for my first shift. That meant I could obtain no credit to reduce my penalty for non payment of the goods, so I was now legally bound to work for them for the next thirty nine days before I could quit! Meanwhile my Christmas job had given me some relevant experience, it’s true, but nothing could have prepared me for the grinding slog of the Superstore’s same day delivery service. So after my first gruelling day I decided that I clearly needed help, and that’s when I got an idea. Why not simply subcontract this work to some other poor soul – someone long accustomed to hard labour, who could really use the money? And in an instant I knew who would perfectly fit the bill:  

Hervor the Hamster!

Now take it from me, fans, Hervor the Hamster is a mighty strange creature. Firstly, most of her kind live in cages and belong to humans, but from her earliest years Hervor has lived an independent life in her own home out in the Welsh countryside. Secondly, everyone knows that hamsters come from Syria, not Scandinavia, yet Hervor never stops boasting that she is of Viking descent! She is lean, muscular, very competitive in all sorts of sports, and unusually attracted to water and boats – a fact which sets her far apart from others of her species. She has a brusque, fiery temperament which never suffers fools gladly, and she speaks with an odd kind of foreign accent that turns ‘s’ sounds into ‘shushes’, so that ‘trees’ become ‘treesh’, and ‘sand’ becomes ‘shand’. And thirdly, she is an obsessive hoarder. While it’s true that this is a common hamster trait, Hervor takes it to an entirely new level. As well as food, she will collect and store anything she finds that could possibly come in handy for a future need. She routinely takes home empty drinks cans, plastic bags, bottles and containers, discarded pens and pencils, old rags, hair ornaments, and the occasional coin or two. But she can also carry off much bigger things, and rumour has it that she once even stole the spare tyre off the back of a parked car!

Knowing all this, it’s no wonder that at the time I thought it was a real stroke of genius to pay Hervor to take over my Superstore job. But unfortunately this seemingly great idea then twisted and turned itself into a situation so explosive that it soon threatened to blow my whole life apart…

And thus it happened, that to my delight Hervor the Hamster got off to a flying start and easily surpassed my deliveries target, supplying goods to more than twenty five households on her first day! This greatly pleased my bosses, who, unaware that I wasn’t actually responsible for this achievement, gave me a box of chocolates to thank me for my sterling work. But being an honourable rat, I naturally couldn’t keep this prize from the person who had really earned it. And so after eating half of these tasty treats to check their quality, I carefully re-sealed the box and presented it to the hard working hamster as a reward for her efficiency. However I wasn’t prepared for her response.

‘And what ish thish?’ she enquired in her peculiar lilting accent, twitching her nose in distaste at the chocolate illustrations on the package.

‘Well, you did so well today, I thought you’d like this little gift as a token of my appreciation,’ I said in reply.

‘You wish to expresh your gratitude with confectionery?’ Her tone was a mixture of surprise and disdain. Then, ‘ Vikingsh do not eat shweetsh. Vikingsh eat fish,’ she told me plainly.

‘Fish? Oh, I see, I’m sorry, I didn’t know,’ I answered, taking the box back out of her hands.

Well, what a piece of luck, I thought to myself – now I could have a nice relaxing evening at home eating chocolates in front of my new widescreen TV! But it soon became clear that my evening of guilty pleasures wasn’t coming yet…

‘Sho, when you get me fish?’ she suddenly demanded in a loud voice. And her piercing black eyes glared expectantly into my face.

‘Erm, well, we’ll have to see about that,’ Hervor,’ I said, somewhat taken aback by her directness. ‘You see, it all depends when I get my fishing rod back from the repair shop.’

‘You fish with rod? Vikingsh fish with handsh. Handsh do not break, why you not yoosh them to fish?’ she asked me, staring scornfully back at me.

‘You catch fish with your hands?’ I was impressed. ‘Well, uh… I guess I’ve never acquired that skill, Hervor. Fact is, I’ve always found line fishing to be more than successful in my case, so there’s never been any need for me to try other methods.’

‘Thish ish very bad ex-kyoosh,’ stated the hamster. ‘I want fish. Catch it any way you want! You get me fish now, or I no work for you no more.’

The mere thought of going back to the Superstore delivery service sent chills running down my spine. I knew I must diffuse the situation as fast as possible, and so – ‘Fine, no problem, Hervor, I promise you’ll have a nice big, freshly caught fish brought right to your door in time for tomorrow’s breakfast,’ I announced in a confident voice, despite not having a clue how to get her one. But to my relief this bluff seemed to work, and she was satisfied at last.

‘Very good, I shall expect you at my howsh by five in the morning,’ she said. ‘Don’t be late, I shtart work at six.’

‘Five it is, then, see you tomorrow,’ said I, raising my hand to wave goodbye. Then after the hamster grunted back a rather less than sociable reply, the two of us duly parted company.

Oh, what had I done! Where in the world was I going to find Hervor a fresh fish by five the next morning? As my mind scrolled through the few local options available for this purpose, I was obliged to dismiss them by one. The fish market? …no, that was too far away. The pet shop? …no, that was closed. The Superstore? …no, that wasn’t open till 7am. But surely somehow, somewhere, there had to be a solution?  

And then I got it!  

Of course, why hadn’t I thought of it before? I had seen the very thing on Christmas Eve, during my disastrous adventure with Bam the Bruiser in the Lewis house. The family kept a huge great goldfish in a fancy tank in their living room, didn’t they? So all I had to do was steal it, smuggle it out of their property, and then present it to Hervor in time for breakfast. With skills like mine, that would surely be a piece of cake! After all, not for nothing was I known as the Acrobatic Aristoc-Rat – I would have that fish out of there before you could say ‘battered cod’!

However, unknown to me I wasn’t the only one going fishing that night…

And so it was that at around eleven thirty, when I was sure that all the Lewises had gone to bed, I stealthily approached the house with a large empty knapsack strapped to my back. As on Christmas Eve, I had planned to enter the premises by the chimney, however on my arrival I was pleasantly surprised to find a downstairs window partially open. Brilliant, I thought as I slipped through the gap onto the window sill, that’s going to make my job so much easier! There I paused for a moment to get my bearings and quickly run through the plan… Right – I was going to hop up to that tank, take off my backpack and dive in to catch the goldfish, then throw it into the bag and carry it off by the same way that I came in. Now what could be simpler than that?

But alas, hardly had these thoughts formed in my head when, peering further into the room, my gaze registered something small and green glinting by the fish tank. I blinked and adjusted my focus, then ever so slowly began to make out a dim shape draped over the side of it. Little by little the shape grew clearer and morphed into a familiar feline, which, as it now appeared, had one paw dipped in the water and one eye fixed on me…

OH, NO!

This was the cat from next door, Blackie the champion rat-catcher! I was toast!

Spinning round, I shot out of the window and started running – but not fast enough, Blackie was right behind me! He promptly grabbed hold of my knapsack and swung me up into midair, my arms wide apart and helpless to unclip the strap across my chest. Then before I knew it, he was bearing me speedily out of the garden and into the bleak and dusky night.  

Severely shaken, and dangling from his jaws like an old shoe by its laces, I never felt closer to a horrible end. Hundreds of yards flew beneath my nose as the cat bore me ever onwards to my fate. As to how long our journey took, I can’t say, but by and by we reached a stream which Blackie seemed intent on crossing… and at long last, that’s when I saw my chance to get away.  

The water was strewn with stones of all shapes and sizes, as well as multiple fallen branches, so that the cat had successfully reached midstream by stepping across the debris till he alighted on a small log. The log, however, was festooned with a heap of twigs that lay like unbrushed hair right in the middle of his path. Thinking nothing of it, and intending to simply spring over the hurdle, Blackie crouched down in order to launch himself to the other side. And that was when I, seizing the moment, reached out and grabbed hold of the said bunch of twigs so as to anchor myself to the spot.

The result was immediate. As the cat sprang forwards, he found his head constrained by the bag now firmly fastened to the detritus. With a yowl of rage he relinquished his prey – but too late to halt the momentum of the jump, the force of which sent his body sailing over his head in a magnificent backwards somersault. Plunging tail first into the water, the current carried him, still loudly protesting, under a bridge and off to the distant horizon… after which, just seconds later I too lost my grip on the twigs and was borne away by the stream!

As I tumbled through the sparkling effluent, colliding with various obstacles in my path and snatching my breath in short sharp gasps, I battled with all my strength to stay afloat and reach the shore. Then when I finally made it up onto dry land I collapsed with exhaustion into the grass, too tired even to shuffle off the backpack that had assumed an unexplained weight in the course of my journey. It was only as I found myself drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep that I was jolted awake with a sudden fright –  

There was something ALIVE thrashing about on my back!

Rigid with terror I lay there wide eyed, my heart pounding so hard that I thought it was going to explode. What could this be…? Visions of a small, mischievous elf danced around in my mind, so that I hardly dared breathe for fear that it would leap out and pummel me to death. But as the moments passed the creature grew weaker and weaker till at last it ceased all movement. At this I mustered my courage, and despite the trepidation that still gripped my soul, unclipped the bag and let it slide with a bump to the ground.

What I saw next took my breath away. For there inside my knapsack, plainly visible in the cool light of dawn, lay a massive silvery trout! It seemed that during my adventure in the stream the zip had pulled open, in so doing turning the backpack into a highly efficient trawl net for swallowing fish…  

I couldn’t believe it, it was mission accomplished! The trout had saved me from the fruitless quest for a Viking’s breakfast by obligingly bagging itself! Seeing this, I naturally wasted no time in delivering it to the hungry hamster. But if I’d expected any thanks for my trouble, she soon put me straight…  

‘Hi, Hervor,’ I said as she appeared in her doorway, ‘here’s the fish I promised you yesterday, caught by yours truly just one hour ago. You can’t get fresher than that, now, can you? So please – enjoy!’ And with a surge of pride I tugged back the zip on the knapsack to display my shiny grey trophy…

But to my amazement the hamster was clearly displeased.

‘Sho! I shee you bring me one very shmall trout. Thish ish not enough, Grumpkin. Vikingsh can eat four or five of these shardeens in one meal,’ she said, as she drilled into me with her sharp black eyes. ‘Thish what you bring me is baby fish. Next time you get me mama fish.’

‘You mean, there’s going to be a next time…?’ I felt an instant, sickening lurch in the pit of my stomach.

‘What you think? Of corsh there will be next time! For delivery job I need many caloreesh. You want I do your work, you feed me every day till contract endsh!’

WHAT? I had to feed her every morning for thirty six more days?

My mind began racing as I wondered how in the world I was going to catch all those fish in time for her daily breakfast. But just then Hervor’s voice cut through my thoughts like a laser beam through a block of ice.

‘All right, Grumpkin, I work till four, then home by four thirty. Now – when you bring my shupper?’