“I never did get to finish you off, did I? The callow youth with the golden voice.” Roquefort grins lopsidedly and twirls his whiskers. “It seems you’ve made a lot of trouble for his Grace since our first encounter. He is entirely displeased. Last time I merely beat you and stole your precious letter–I’m afraid this time I’ll have to take you with me yourself!”
“I don’t think so,” she replies coolly.
He grins a yellow grin. “And how exactly are you going to stop me?”
“Roll Call!” trills d’Artagnannette, and the Mouseketeers throw back their hoods and draw steel.