Chapter Text
"Oh, dear. The poor little fellow," Nigel sympathized. "...Ahh, ahh, I see. ...Yes, sir, of course. ...Of course. ...Leave it to me. No worries at all. ...Alright, then. See you soon," Nigel said, ending his phone call. He sighed, frustratedly rubbing the bridge of his nose. Where the hell was he going to find a taxidermist, let alone who would be skilled enough to take on a small rodent, in a rush, in the middle of Ulster County, for the English ambassador?! Good lord. What a task. Could he Google something like that? Should he visit a natural history museum and see if they have any good connections? Google first... but what search terms? 'Taxidermist near me'? 'Local squirrel taxidermy'? How absolutely ridiculous this felt. He was supposed to help the ambassador take care of political matters, not help him stuff a squirrel he'd become fond of that lived (and recently passed away) in his yard. As luck would have it, to his surprise, a company popped up in his search that seemed promising. "Higgintoot's Taxidermy," he read aloud. It got good reviews on Google (why was there such a demand for this service, though? Nigel felt the whole situation was rather grim), so he gave them a call. One of the reviews had mentioned a pet hamster, so...?
"Higgintoot's Taxidermy, how may I help you?"
"Hello! I have a rather strange question for you..." Nigel paused.
The man on the other end chuckled. "In this business, I guarantee I've heard stranger."
Nigel smiled. "Ah, I suppose you must have. I am wondering if you're able to help me with getting a squirrel taxiderm...ied? Stuffed. Preserved? Anyway. On the rush. It's for my boss," he clarified quickly, though he realized it didn't really matter... or clarify anything.
"Squirrels are no problem. In fact, I'm something of a rodent specialist. I've got some time over the next few days... are you able to bring it in then?"
"Wonderful! Yes, I believe that is possible. I'll stop by as soon as I... pick up the poor little fellow..." Nigel said failingly, realizing he would have to collect the dead creature and drive it to the store. He grimaced.
"Excellent! Looking forward to seeing you soon."
"Certainly. Thank you!" Nigel concluded. He hung up the phone, feeling relieved that he'd found someone who sounded perfect for the job, but dejected that he'd now have to go gather up the squirrel and drive it to Mr. Higgintoot's establishment. He was desperately hoping the smell wouldn't - no, no, he couldn't think about that, or he'd never do it. It was already not an easy task, but psyching himself out ahead of time wouldn't help matters. Maybe he could put it in the trunk? Ugh. How did Mr. Higgintoot deal with this kind of stuff all day? He must be a very strange man, thought Nigel, grimacing again.