Watch your step, this part of the climb's tricky.

Ah, yet another sequence, this time of a faintly recognizable figure and one who, almost invariably, is an unknown.

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Mickey Mouse seeks shelter from a storm in a forest cave. Shaking a great deal of water from his fur and knocking several drops from his large round ears, the iconic rodent spots a yellow glow in the deeper depths. He calls out "Is anyone there?" there is no answer, but for an echo and the dripping of rainwater from his fur and from the stalactites at the cave mouth, and the sound of the pouring rain. He takes a step forward and calls again a little louder "Is anyone there?" Again only an echo responds. Then he hears something soft beneath the reverberating sound of his own words, it continued on as the echo faded. It was music, beautiful, soft music. It was coming from further in the cave. It sounded like strains from an organ, but it was so delicate and gentle. Mickey strained his ears to hear more, the melody continued, Mickey felt it fill him up, as if the notes were a scalding liquid pouring into his belly. He closed his eyes, listening. It was inside him, inside his head, inside his soul, his heart was dancing to the quiet tune. Then, quite suddenly and unnervingly, a long dramatic high note rang through the restless silence. The moment Mickey heard the sharp sound his whole body seized up, he felt blown back as though hit by a gust of hot wind. He staggered, then straightened. Silence. Then he noticed a glow shimmering in the puddles at his feet. A faint aura of light was emanating from his body. It was a gentle glow, then it intensified, his wet black fur shone brightly. Suddenly a subtle sensation of weightlessness overtook Mickey, it were as if he were floating, falling... A tingling around his navel drew his attention. He looked and saw that his crimson, yellow-buttoned shorts were slowly sliding down his waist, they felt looser than usual. And they continued to feel looser, he tugged them upward, bemused, but upon their release they began to slide down again immediately and in earnest. At first he thought it was the weight of the water, but before his disbelieving eyes he saw that it wasn't the rain-soaked shorts, it was him-- His waistline seemed to be narrowing, steadily but distinctly, it was like he was pulling in his gut, but was unable to stop! His shorts dipped, the fabric brushed his tail in the back, it slid backwards along it, he twitched it and it freed itself easily from the weight of the shorts and they fell unhindered to his knees. He gasped and grabbed them. He pulled them up, but had to hold them tightly to keep them from collapsing again, what was more, despite being suspended, the bottoms were sinking to cover his ankles and still sinking too!

Mickey was panicking now, having no idea what was happening, but not liking it one bit. He looked down at his arms as he tightly gripped his only shield to indecency. The limbs seemed far shorter than usual and the fur softer, then he saw that the trademark white gloves he wore were loosening too, sliding over his wrist and bunching up on his fingers. Meanwhile his shorts were enduring a similar process as they formed ruffles over his now massively oversized shoes.

"What's going on?!" He shouted, then he gasped and covered his mouth with a paw as he heard his voice. What was usually high-pitched was now even more so, a very mouse-like squeak. A squeak he hadn't heard for years, an impossible amount of years... He realized then what was occurring, he was shrinking, but not only that, he must also be changing, he must be getting younger. A moment of wide-eyed stuporing horror followed this revelation, all the while his body shrinking and regressing. Snapping out of the daze, he noticed that his paws were practically swimming in his gloves now. His shorts had dipped on one side as he'd released it to cover his mouth, though the build up of folds was now almost tall enough to cover him anyway. He was so scared now, he felt tears welling in his eyes, what could he do? Try and run, that's it! He took a step back, or tried to, stepping, with difficulty due to their size, out of his shoes. He stumbled again, getting his legs caught up in the huge mass of red fabric, and he fell onto his behind, losing his gloves in the process. He sat crying for a few moments, tears running down his still rain-soaked fur. He shivered as a chill breeze swept a sprinkling of raindrops into the cave. He whimpered in a faint squeak, he couldn't help it; he was wet, he was tiny, and he was miserable. He covered his face with his soggy little paws and sobbed into them. Then he felt a wave of warmth wash over him, coming from within the cave, from the golden light deep within, it was soothing. Mickey tried to look up, but his vision was blurry from his tears, he could make out a fuzzy figure, encompassed with a festoon of golden light. Then, his tear gummed-eyelids drooped. Mickey felt tired, very tired. He slumped forward a few moments later and fell fast asleep.

He woke warm, dry, and cozy. For a second he thought he was home in bed, but something wasn't right. He opened his eyes. He felt the weight of an unfamiliar blanket over him, he could see through its bubble-pattern knit-work the light of a fire casting dancing shadows on a wall of limestone. He rolled over and sat up so the quilt fell off him. He found righting himself a rather more difficult task than normal. It took him two tries to establish a sitting position. A crinkling around his waist once again drew his attention to his midriff. Apprehensively he pushed the heavy woolen blanket off him and gazed down at a soft white bundle fixed around his waist, it was a few moments before he realized what it was. A diaper. His whisp of a tail stuck through a pin-sized hole in the back. He felt his face flush as he noticed too that his whole body was tiny and chubby. A voice made the blushing mouse look around with a start.

"I'm terribly sorry," The voice was coming from beside him. A figure was seated a foot or so away from Mickey, it was a cat, squat and smiling. Its fur was of a golden yellow and it was garbed in nothing but a baggy and tattered old robe. Its eyes were closed, but its head was inclined towards Mickey. A bushy tail was quivering around the cat's ankles. "I sometimes get carried away when I'm playing the organ, I hope you weren't too startled. I'm sorry too that I didn't hear you at the threshold, as soon as I realized my tones were affecting you I rushed to the mouth of the cave," Mickey stared up at the cat, he grinned sadly and looked into the fire before him, Mickey glanced at it too, then did a double take, the fire was burning, tall and warm, but there was no wood at its base. "I thought you might have tried to run out into the storm, perfectly natural of course, but you were so young by then, you see... I knew you would have been vulnerable... I had to stop you- These are dangerous times..." the cat sighed and shook its head. "There're worse things out there than cold rain and lightning,"

Mickey was drinking in the feline's words, staring into the impossible dancing fire, he could hear remorse in them and a desire for him to understand. He looked over at the feline, he also sensed a concern in the cat's voice that he'd rarely heard elsewhere, especially from a feline to a rodent. "My name is Pettitail," the cat said, drawing back his overlong sleeves and reaching out towards Mickey. Mickey was still staring at the cat, mouth slightly ajar, then he realized that Pettitail, as he called himself, was offering a handshake, he hesitated then reached out a tiny paw. Pettitail grasped it gently and shook it with another friendly smile. Mickey felt that Pettitail's paws were wet, he then realized that the cat's whole body was dripping, his robe dark and damp as well. Pettitail released Mickey's paw and settled back on the cave floor. Mickey looked around, he now saw that his shorts and gloves were folded neatly beside him, clean and dry, as well as his shoes which seemed newly polished, reflecting the firelight. "I wasn't expecting visitors, I apologize, I had to run out to pick up your attire, I'm sorry that it's all I could find..."

Mickey looked back at the cat, he was wringing out his tail, he grinned toothily at Mickey's continued staring. "Are you always this silent or is it only in cartoons?" Pettitail laughed. It was a light and gentle laugh and it somehow instilled comfort in Mickey. Mickey smiled weakly.

"This is just a bit iweguwar," Mickey said, blushing deeply again as he realized how ridiculous he sounded. Pettitail laughed kindly.

"Yes, I suppose it is, marshmallow?" Pettitail reached behind him and produced a small sack. He offered it to Mickey, who hesitated then extracted one of the white, puffy snacks. Pettitail beamed as if Mickey had just given him a marvelous compliment. The marshmallow tasted delicious, far better than any store brand variety Mickey had ever sampled. Pettitail set up a kettle of rainwater and when it boiled with a cheery whistle (which took surprisingly little time) he transferred the steaming liquid to a large celadon-glazed teapot. He added leaves and herbs, gave the teapot a swift stir and poured out some tea into matching teacups. He did all this extremely quickly and smoothly as if in rhythm.

He handed Mickey a cup and saucer, Mickey looked down, a little tentative now, he wasn't that fond of tea, really, but it seemed nothing short of vicious insult not to drink it after all of Pettitail's hospitality. He experimentally inhaled the fumes rising from the steaming teacup, the scent was sweet and strong, and strangely familiar. He blew off the steam and took a tiny sip. The liquid, though it seemed hotter, was actually the perfect temperature for drinking. He took a larger sip, the first one hadn't satisfactorily identified the taste. He recognized both taste and scent in the exact moment- It was cocoa- Hot Cocoa! It was fantastic too, creamy and rich and wonderfully warming. Pretty soon he'd emptied the cup. He looked up from the dregs and nervously over at Pettitail, with a sheepish smile. He seemed to have been watching him, grinning from behind his own cup.

"Do you like it?" Pettitail asked good-naturedly.

"Yes, what is it?" Mickey replied, holding his cup out as Pettitail leaned forward to refill it.

"Well, what does it taste like?" Pettitail asked as he settled back, crossing his legs with his tail swishing happily behind him.

"Uh... Chocolate. Hot Chocolate." Mickey said slowly, wondering what would come next. The cat's grin widened.

"Of course... Of course," He said softly, more to himself. He lifted the teapot and held it in front of him. "This elixer is a special blend that tastes different to every soul that drinks it," Pettitail explained. "It is an indication of the openness of one's heart." The cat took another sip of tea.

"What?" Mickey said astounded "You mean- You mean its like..." Mickey paused, looking for the right word, "Like a howoscope?" He finished.

"A bit more accurate than that," Pettitail laughed, "And a lot more meaningful," Before Mickey could ask Pettitail continued. "You're wondering what yours signifies?" Mickey nodded. "Well, the cocoa is a sign of a kind and open spirit, one that is still in touch with their childhood," Mickey smiled. "It means also that they are lonely," Pettitail continued, a little sadly, Mickey's face fell. "That they miss the days of the past and the simplicity they enjoyed, they feel like... They've been away from home for a long, long time," the cat looked down into his own cup, Mickey averted his own eyes, without thinking he began squeezing the blanket at his feet, Pettitail continued, "They feel helpless, powerless, unable to control their destiny..." Mickey looked suddenly at Pettitail, he thought he saw a wet streak running down one of Pettitail's furry cheeks, but it may just have been a straggler from the cat's time in the rain, the cat met his gaze. "They wish they had the power to return and be with those they love, with those they love most," Mickey's eyes were watering, he looked down. All that Pettitail said was true, he knew it. He'd been shunted from place to place in the course of his work, doing stunt after stupid publicity stunt for the bigwigs at Disney PR. It seemed like fifty years since he'd gotten a real break. And he'd been cut off from his real friends for years, cut off from Pluto, Donald, Goofy... Cut off from Minnie... Pettitail reached over and placed a comforting hand on Mickey's tiny shoulder, which had begun to tremble. Mickey wiped his eyes on the quilt in front of him.

"Sowwy..." He muttered after a minute.

"Its alright, little one, don't apologize." Pettitail spoke softly. "You tried to run away didn't you?" Pettitail said after a few moments silence. Mickey nodded miserably.

"Yeah... I had had enough. Enough public appeawances, enough endowsements. I wanted to get away. But I weawise now that... If I run away- It won't s-sowve anything..." Mickey paused to blow his nose. "Plus... If I- If I run away..."

"You'll be running away from everything, not just the problem," Pettitail said, scooching over to sit beside Mickey.

"Yeah, I'll lose P-Pwuto... And D-Donald, and Goofy..."

"And Minnie." Pettitail finished for Mickey. Mickey looked up and nodded.

"What do I do? I can't go back- They'll just wun me on the ciwcuit 'tiw I got nothing weft..." Pettitail didn't answer at once. He seemed to be thinking. Mickey looked at the fire, in its undulating flames he could see the images of everything he longed for. His home, his dog, his friends. And he could see Minnie, he could almost smell her perfume, could nearly taste her lips... Pettitail spoke suddenly, breaking Mickey out of his longing reverie.

"You know the only way to get back to them, don't you?" Mickey shook his head. "You've got to stand up, you've got to say no to those who oppress you. Don't let them use you, bowlderize you, don't let them hold you down anymore,"

"But the contwact-" Mickey began.

"Go back, Mickey," Pettitail said, "Go back and I know you'll be able to wriggle out of that trap of a contract. You are a mouse after all- You'll show those greedy fat cats who's really in charge."

"I can't!" Mickey said, desperately.

"Yes you can," Pettitail reassured with a gentle squeeze. "I think you'll find a very good lawyer waiting for you back at your hotel in Burbank to argue the case," Pettitail smoothed his rather spiky headfur back, struck a parody of a professional pose, then laughed, "I know we'll get you home, Michael," Pettitail continued, with a consoling smile. "I promise."

Mickey was stunned and touched by the cat's compassionate goodwill. His tears had changed smoothly to tears of gratitude, he sniffed and gave Pettitail a watery smile.

"Okay..." He said softly. "But I weally don't think I'll be abwe to go back too soon."

"Why not?" Pettitail asked, looking bemused for a moment. Mickey spread his arms and looked pointedly down at himself. "Ohhh..." Pettitail said after a moment. "Oh, yes of course,"

"I don't need another "Baby Mickey" fwanchise going out," Mickey said with a sly smile "And I'd wather not give them any ideas, if you know what I mean," the cat laughed.

"Well, don't worry, the regression is only temporary." Pettitail said still chuckling. "You should progress within 48 hours time," Mickey felt enormous relief upon hearing this, though luckily not the kind that would put his new diaper to use, though it did remind him of something very pressing.

"Er, Mr. Pettitail-" Mickey began.

"If you like you can just call me Petti, or Peter as it were," Pettitail said jovially, moving back to his place by the teapot and pouring out another pair of cups.

"Right." Mickey said awkwardly. "Uh- Petti, what about my... Well, I mean, where should I- You know..." Mickey fidgeted, feeling his face redden again. "The diaper," he finally managed to say.

"What about it?" Pettitail asked absentmindedly, taking a sip of his tea.

"What if I have to... You know- Go?" Petti choked slightly on his tea, after coughing for a moment he managed to croak.

"Don't be bothered about that- Those diapers have a special property that keep them unsoiled." Petti cleared his throat and dabbed at his face with a napkin.

"Weally?" Mickey asked, amazed.

"Oh yes," Pettitail said, with a small smile at Mickey's apparent wonder, he handed Mickey another steaming cup of cocoa-tea. "So drink as much as you want, little one," Mickey laughed and took a great gulp. It tasted just as good, if not better than before. After a few more minutes of silent sipping Mickey finally asked a question that had been bobbing on the surface of his mind.

"Uh, Petti?" He began again.

"Mm?"

"What does the tea-elixer stuff taste like fow you?" Petti slowly lowered his saucer, frowning down into his half-empty cup. His frown was not one of annoyance, though, it was one of deep thought. A few minutes passed. Mickey had just about gone back to his tea when Pettitail finally spoke.

"Well, it is a rather personal question you ask, Michael-"

"Oh! Sowwy," Mickey said quickly, he should've known.

"It's fine, fine, don't apologize," Petti said kindly, "No one's asked me that in a long time, and I mean a long time, little one," Petti stroked his furry chin with a stout paw. "The elixer... Tastes- Like..." Petti lapsed into silence again, Mickey waited patiently for him to continue. "Well, it tastes like... Berry Wine," Petti finally admitted, he looked a little embarrassed.

"Oh." Michael said, unsure what to say. He didn't really want Petti to have to tell him any more as he was clearly uncomfortable with the subject. Petti sat awkwardly for a few moments before he set his half-drunk tea aside and looked out towards the mouth of the cave behind him from which the sound of dripping raindrops still faintly echoed, Mickey cast around for a change of subject. "Uh, you pway really well," He said, trying to sound cheery. "On the owgan I mean." Pettitail turned back to Mickey, he had water running down his face though he'd long since dried off completely by the fire. Mickey looked down.

"Thank you, Mr. Mouse," the cat said in an odd choked voice. He swallowed then continued in a more regular tone. "I'd be pleased to offer you lodgings until you return to normal, if you'd like," Mickey raised his head, he looked over at the cat, he was grinning a watery smile, his face shining in the firelight. Mickey grinned too.

"I'd wike that vewwy much Pettitail," He said and he finished off his cocoa in one.

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The overblown narrative strikes again! Ah Petti, what a lovely charming fellow, the quintessential Good Regressor, he's among my most common characters.

EDIT: What an addition that was, no idea what it looks like from this tiny little box I'm forced to type in. I think I may have doubled the length of the story though. ^^;

Mickey Mouse is (C) The Walt Disney Co. and its affiliates

Pettitail the Hooded is (C) Koopus C. Kroupa