Squeak, squeak, cough.

Recently, the little rodent voices that have echoed throughout the high school’s halls for generations have been growing weaker and weaker. Not because they’re moving out or dwindling in numbers, no, but because their lungs have been damaged by their alarmingly copious consumption of nicotine.

That’s right. Vaping addictions aren’t exclusive to your little brother, your little brother’s friends, or that kid in your math class who takes a 20-minute “bathroom break” every time there’s group work. They’ve spread to the mice, too. According to Remy, a Russian Blue Rat who lives primarily in room 389 and is famous for his delicious ratatouille dish, the recent uptick in nicotine addictions can be attributed to all the abandoned vapes found in the bathroom stalls.

“It’s crazy. I used to only see one every other month or so. Now it feels like I see a new Crave Max pen every day,” Remy said. “And they’re never the good flavors! I have a highly developed sense of taste and smell, and let me tell you: artificial blue raspberry reeks. I miss Paris— I used to live there— because at least the French had class and stuck to cigarettes.”

Templeton, a Norway Rat best known for his long-standing friendship with a spider named Charlotte who weaves wordy webs, said his family has inhabited room 265 for the past 18 years. According to him, the influx of vapes is wreaking havoc on the local mouse economy.

“When a human throws away a vape pen, it’s because they can’t get any more hits out of it. But our bodies are smaller. An expert can get 15, maybe 20 good hits out of a freshly discarded pen,” Templeton said. “That kind of stuff is money. My family used to be able to pay a month’s rent with just one vape. Now, we’re lucky if rent is under 12 pens a month.”

A recent report written by Algernon, a professor of economics at the Mouseachusetts Institute of Technology and a huge fan of flowers, claims that the economic situation has become so dire it is now officially classified as hyperinflation. But according to Remy, while the economy has become strained, it’s not his main concern.

“Hello? Do we not care that we’re experiencing a health crisis? I run a restaurant. It is unacceptable how many mice are hacking up lungs while sitting at my tables. None of them can even smell anymore because of all the chemicals clogging up their snouts,” Remy said. “It’s ruining the culinary experience. I put myself in harm’s way every day to get the freshest deli sandwich crumbs for my dishes, but what’s the point if my customers can’t tell the difference between fresh deli sandwich crumbs and moldy crackers?”

Algernon, who moonlights as a professor of neuroscience at the Tufts of Fur Medical School, said that while Remy’s priorities may be a bit misguided, his concern is not unfounded.

“The effects of nicotine exposure on young murine bodies is no joke. The heart, the lungs, the immune system, the brain— especially the prefrontal cortex, that’s the decision-making part of the brain— they’re all heavily impacted,” Algernon said. “Actually, that might be why blue raspberry is such a popular choice in flavor.”

When asked what words of encouragement he had to say to students seeking help for their nicotine usage, Algernon held up his paw and cut his interviewer off.

“Woah, woah, woah. When did I say I was concerned about their health? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not heartless, but I’m far more worried about the economy. Why do you think I have two jobs? My stocks have all crashed and soon I might even have to liquidate my real estate portfolio. That’s the real tragedy,” Algernon said.

Templeton believes that while the mouse economy will recover in time, precautions need to be taken to ensure a catastrophe of this caliber never happens again.

“It’s always humans this, humans that,” Templeton said. “What about the mice? Who’s gonna keep you company during your library study sessions if we’re gone? Certainly not the squirrels, I’ll tell you that much. Someone needs to stick up for the little guys.”