Mickey peered through the dusty window of The Shop of Errors . There was no one inside, and yet a strange feeling told him to be on his guard. He spun around. Was that a shadow he had seen out of the corner of his eye?

An unexplained restlessness overwhelmed him and made him impatient; Mickey crossed the threshold purposefully.

“Polar bears are left-handed!” croaked something from behind a shelf.

“The catfish has more than 27,000 taste buds!” added a shrill voice emanating from an old radio.

Mickey responded sarcastically, “Of course they do, who knows how many tasty things are lurking under the water...”

“Ah! Finally a customer with a sense of humor!” came an approving voice from behind Mickey. “My name is Toppersby and I am the owner of this place.”

Mickey scrutinized this individual, who looked like a veritable bookworm, with thick rimmed spectacles, an orange coat, a green bow tie, and a funny expression. He seemed to be incredibly proud of these knick knacks, which he described as “absurd, wrong but incredibly nifty”. While Toppersby was trying to sell him an uninhabited oil lamp, uninhabited because the genie preferred to move to a two-bedroom place, Mickey revealed the reason for his visit, showing him the tiny mirror in the compact.

Toppersby gasped, “Lollopping lamp-shades, I left it in the care of Pipwolf!”

Finally, something in common! Mickey asked him if he knew the strange guy from the night before.

“Lanky? Hairy? Airhead? Werewolfy? No, I don't know him.” Toppersby replied, running to the door of the shop to lower the blinds.

“But he knows you! He must have got a whiff of you to see whether he could trust you or not. While for me, all I needed to do was to look you in the eye!” he added.

Shut up in the dark in the middle of The Shop of Errors , poor Mickey garbled, “G-got a whiff?”

Toppersby's manner was grave. Without waiting for Mickey to take a breath, he began to tell the incredible story, “There was a time when people were frightened of using mirrors. A terrible monster would use them to grab anyone who dared to look in them and would drag the unfortunate souls back into its world. Then an alchemist fashioned a mirror that would imprison this evil being. He captured his image, thus trapping him in our world. The monster still wanders this dimension, searching for the only mirror that shows his reflection. But he must avoid all ordinary mirrors because he would be imprisoned within them.”

“So what I have in my hand is a portal between two worlds?” Mickey concluded sarcastically. “If you don't mind, I think I'll take a step through this portal into the real world.” he added, pointing to the exit and showing quite clearly that he didn't believe a single word uttered by Toppersby.

The latter, however, took him by surprise, wrestling the compact from his hands.

“This compact was a present from you. It cost you thirty dollars. And she never told you that she hates the initial printed on it!” the shopkeeper declared as he held the compact with closed eyes.

On hearing the last detail, Mickey forgot all the rational questions he should have asked Toppersby about his capacity to “read” objects. He snatched the compact back, commenting angrily that Minnie loved that initial. But Toppersby didn't stick around to listen—he had already grabbed him by the arm and led him hastily to the back door.

Toppersby had no time to explain to Mickey why he was unable to leave through the front door, the bell had announced the arrival of someone the shopkeeper had feared to come. He stammered, “C-CELANTUS...”

A moment later, Mickey found he'd been unceremoniously thrown out.

The last thing Toppersby said before shutting the door in his face was “Go to The White Mouse in the Victorian Quarter! Go to our mutual friend!” EXr6287u6NNVz+GYLY+7SBsrcqIjTEksQl6hvkLhtOzogwUEg6k7NKkMkEKPp6LyPax8lT9VnO+uJTeQipvxVw==