Fish and his brothers spent ALL day in the workshop making fabulous new hats! Some are fancy, some are silly, and some are… let’s just say “unique.” And none ob them got their fingers stuck together wiff the hot glue gun, so it was a success!
We did some arting a while back to complete our diploma from Marty’s School ob Bizness, but you habn’t seen it yet! It’s taking a bit longer than expected because Barry is being super picky about the titles (and yes… we gabe him approbal to be in charge ob naming).
But good news — our first art auction is coming soon! There will be a pribate auction plus some gibaways on Patreon too, so if you hab been finking about joining, now is a good time. (join here)
Stay tuned — masterpieces incoming next monff!
In the past, during his time at MSOB, Reuben made a goldfish named Gary wiff his science skills. It was one of those experiments dat turned out a little too well — Gary not only swam, but also developed a taste for opera music and demanded his flakes sprinkled wiff the flair of a Parisian chef. Reuben doesn’t like to talk about it… mostly because Gary once gab a lecture at the Academy of Aquatic Sciences, and the applause embarrassed Reuben more than anyfing.
But quietly, late at night in his lab, Reuben habs been tinkering again. His latest creation: a goldfish-making debice. A mix ob bubbling tubes, tiny gears, and some mysterious cheese-powered energy source, it hums and puffs like a steampunk contraption.
And the results? Surprisingly good. Each goldfish emerges wiff a little more personality than the last. Some are shy. Some blow perfect bubble rings. One keeps trying to rearrange the decorations in his tank like he’s an interior designer.
Reuben insists it’s just “basic aquatic engineering,” but Barry suspects it’s more complicated. Baxter thinks they’re on the verge ob a breakfru in rat-to-fish communication. And Fish? Well, he’s already drawing up plans for a cheese-powered submarine so he can bisit them properly.
For now, though, Reuben stays quiet about it all. He leans ober the table, goggles pushed up on his head, watching the newest fish flick its tail in the tank. He whispers, just to himself, “Better than Gary…”
If you want him to make you a goldfish, just let him know and he’ll put you on the waitlist.
A berry rare treat ob just a little nibble… Milanos: small bite, big delight.
P.S. Fish is habbing a bliss.
The 2026 Calemdars are ready for pre-order, and this year we hab more choices than eber!
There are 3 wall calemdars, and two desk calemdars to choose from.
Wall Calemdars:
• Rueben & Dougie’s Big Paris Adbenture – Croissants, cheese, and plenty of Parisian charm.
• Memes – A whole year of giggles, sass, and rat wit.
• Rats in Hats – Dashing headwear for ebery season.
Desk Calemdars:
• Baxter Wiff a B – Royal Thursdays, wise proclamations, and Baxters dream coming true!
• Not Just Snacks – Sure, dere are snacks… but dere’s also heart, humor, and surprises.
Bisit our Store ob Cute Fings and order yours today! https://martymousehouse.bigcartel.com/
Internashunal Bizness Note: Please be aware dat Internashunal shipping costs can change due to tariffs or unexpected fees. While we do our best to keep costs down and didn’t raise prices this year, despite an increase in supplier cost – sometimes dere may be extra charges outside our control. It might be best to wait and see how these fings shake out before you order. Fank you for understanding!
Hear ye, hear ye! On dis most glorious Thursday, King Baxter habs completed his official duties ob light stapling. The Royal Documents (grocery lists, cheese maps, and snack schedules) hab now been securely fastened wiff the red stapler.
Let it be known:
- All snack requests must be submitted in triplicate.
- Extra peanut butters will be distributed at teatime.
- No one shall disturb the King during his mid-morning nap.
Signed & stapled,
King Baxter, Ruler ob Thursdays
It was a perfect sunny morning when the brothers set off for their Ratty Box Beach Day. It had been so hot, a day to cool off was necessary.
Reuben was the first to claim the surf-shack hut, peeking out like he was the official lifeguard on duty. He eben had his little crab to help keep watch. “No running on the sand!” he squeaked, though he was secretly planning to nap instead of sabing lives.
Fish, ob course, found the snack pack labeled Beachy Bites and immediately began nibbling fru the bag. “Beach regulations clearly state that banana flabored snacks must be eaten immediately,” he explained, crumbs dusting his whiskers.
Barry climbed up into the hammock swaying from the palm tree, declaring it his private cabana. From up high, he could obersee eberyfing — the wabes, the clouds, and whether Fish left any snacks unguarded. He swung gently back and forth, pretending he was at a resort.
Meanwhile, Baxter was scouting for seashells to take home as souvenirs. He arranged them neatly in a row on the wooden planks, already finking about how they’d look on the windowsill back home.
The day rolled on wiff sunbathing, sand pawprints, and Baxter attempting (unsuccessfully) to surf on a piece ob driftwood. By the time the sun began to set, the boys were happily worn out, bellies full ob snacks, their fur salty and windswept.
It was unanimously decided: Ratty Box Beach Day was the best kind of day.