snarled Stilton Piccadilly, his red eyes blazing at Roquefort Dupont. Dupont’s tail thrashed angrily to and fro at this insult. “How was I supposed to know that blasted Goldenleaf brat would show up?” “Security would be tight, you promised!” the British rat continued, pacing back and forth across the sewer deep beneath Track 77. “Not a whisper would leak out, you promised! I sent a courier suggesting we meet in London, but no, you wouldn’t have that. Everything had to be on your terms.” He leaned closer, sneering. “Face it, Dupont, you’re a joke. You don’t have what it takes to cut it as Big Cheese. Now I, on the other hand—” Dupont lunged. Piccadilly dodged to the side, and the two bull rats circled warily, the hackles of fur on the backs of their thick necks rising in angry spikes. Before either could strike, however, Brie placed a restraining paw on her cousin’s shoulder. “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said the she-rat in her silky voice. “Zees is not ze time nor ze place for a duel.
