Today is Tuesday.

Chiaroscuro invited himself into the banquet. He was attracted by the shining, the beautiful, the twinkling. He couldn't help climbing onto the table and then to the chandelier. He hang on the chandelier with his paw back and forth. He smelt the scent of the foods. He enjoyed everything of the banquet. But he was seen by one person, of course the smartest one, the Princess Pea. She shouted that there was a rat hunging on the chandelier, but it was so noisy in the hall that no one heard except Chiaroscuro. The little rat had never thought the word rat was so ugly. He lost his mind and dropped from the chandelier down into a bowl of queen, which was full of soup. The queen was so indulged in soup that the cook would made the most delicious soup at every dinner, every banquet. Chiaroscuro couldn't help sipping the soup. It was really delicious. The princess shouted again in a louder voice. The queen saw the rat in her bowl, pieces of watercress clinging to his whiskers. She fell back on the ground and died.