Mini-Mozo's On The Air!
a Mini-Peter Adventure transcribed by Nikki, 2007

June 1-20: "Putting the aerial up..."

     Mini-Peter has been feeling a bit down lately. He really wanted to go to Europe to see one of the real Peter's concerts (or maybe all of them), but it just didn't work out. He had a brief glimmer of hope when he learned about credit cards and found out that I have one...

     ...but his hopes were dashed when I explained to him the term "maxed out".

     "Just stay optimistic," I told him. "Someday he'll come to California again, and I've already set a little something aside so we can go. We'll just have to be patient, okay?"
     "Hmmuhgusssuh," he mumbled as he sulked.
     "Why don't you find yourself a hobby to pass the time? It could be decades before there's a new album and a proper tour--"
     "Oh don't say decades, please, it isn't funny..."

     "Well if you keep yourself busy, it'll pass in a flash."
     "Can't handle decades," he grumbled as he shuffled off to find something to occupy his time.

     It wasn't long before he had found something. I watched him over several days carrying various tools and building materials into his house, and I heard a lot of whirring and pounding going on in there.

     And of course, as always, plenty of music drifted out. I noticed a tendency for On The Air to get played quite a bit on repeat, and I heard Mini-Peter singing along...
     "Made from the trash I dug out the heap, with my own gloved hands..."
     I chuckled at his little alteration.

     Around day five, he carried what appeared to be two radios into his hut.
     "What are you up to?" I asked, but he was too into the music to notice me.

     The next day...

     "What are you doing?" I tried again.
     "I'm putting the aerial up," he sang, "so I can go out on the air!"
     "On the air - what?--" I watched as he climbed down and danced back into his house. "Mini-Peter?" I called in after him.
     "There's no-one here by that name!" He shouted back between lines.
     "Okay then, who are you now?" I queried, but he was already singing along again.
     "I want everybody to know Mini-Mozo is here!"
     "Ohhhh...." I nodded knowingly. It all made sense now. The real Peter had been into Ham Radio for a while and had written On The Air about that, or so it was said. So now Mini-Peter had made it his own new hobby. Well, that seemed fine to me. It would keep him busy and more importantly it would keep him stationary. As long as he came out for food a few times a day, I could sit back and relax..

     Boy, I oughtta know better by now...

     I noticed a couple of extra fixtures on the roof. That should have been my first warning.

     Well, he must just be expanding his range, talking to people farther away. Good for him. I left him to his fun.

     Then one day, my old iPod disappeared. The next day, my portable CD player had gone, too. Surprise, surprise, I located both of them in Mini-Peter's newly titled "radio shack".

     "Hey hey, folks, Mini-Mozo here, bringing you All Peter Gabriel All The Time on Radio Mozo FM! If you've found us you know where we are - tell your friends, just don't tell the cops! Don't forget to tune in this evening at nine o'clock for Album Hour - tonight we feature Us from 1992, in its entirety! But right now, I wanna send this one out to all the 'dwarfs and tramps' out there - you know who you are. From the second self-titled album, released in 1978, this is On The Air! Hey, it's my theme song! But I talk too much so spin it already! Yeah!"
     He hit play on the iPod, and the music swelled up. He turned a few dials on the equipment in front of him until he seemed satisfied, then turned his attention to the iPod to cue up the next song.
     "Mini-Mozo?" I interrupted, trying not to sound reprimanding.
     "Sorry, we don't take requests until five o'clock."
     "Requests?"
     "Five O'Clock!"
     "We need to talk."
     "Sorry it'll have to wait 'til Album Hour. I've got work to do right now - playlists to rearrange, e-mails to answer-- this song's only five minutes long, you know--"
     "E-mails?? How widespread is this?"
     "I'm not really sure but we had a request from Argentina last night. Look, I've really got to do this - get back to me after I start Us at nine, okay?" He pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling and the raffia curtain in the doorway closed between us.
     "Argentina?!" I asked the curtain, but it gave me no reply.

     As I turned to leave, I heard a little knock at the front door. I hoped it was kids selling candy... I could use candy right now. I opened the door, but at first I saw no-one there, until a tiny throat cleared itself at my feet.

     "I'm Officer Gorham of the Mini-Police. We've traced an illegal radio broadcast to this address, I have a warrant to search the premises. Are there any mini-persons residing here?"
     "Ummm, there might be," I stalled, hoping Mini-Peter - Mini-Mozo - Mini-Whoever would hear the commotion and make his escape. "Do you mind if I have a look at that warrant?"
     "Go right ahead," he offered it up to me and stormed in right past me. I examined the minuscule paper in my hand but the text would require a microscope to read. He looked around and immediately spotted Mini-Peter's hut. He headed over and rapped on the door frame, announcing himself through the curtain. I heard no reply - in fact, it had gone very quiet in there, no music or anything. Officer Gorham entered cautiously, then emerged a few seconds later with a radio under each arm.
     "Where are you going with those?" I demanded.
     "It's all in the warrant. All equipment used for illegal broadcasting is to be confiscated. Do you have any idea where this Mini-Mozo character might be?"
     "No, I couldn't say."
     "Well if he turns up, we'd like to have a word with him."
     "Sure, I'll let him know."
     I watched sullenly as the mini-officer made trip after trip to remove all of Mini-Peter's radio equipment and even his computer.

     On the last trip, he even tried to take my iPod, but I drew the line at that.
     "Wait a minute, that's not his, it's mine."
     "Yours? Were you an accomplice?"
     "No, I - I mean, I didn't know what he was doing, I didn't know he had it."
     "Would you like to file theft charges?"
     "No, of course not, I just don't see why you need to take it."
     "I suppose we don't."
     He gave it back to me, then climbed the ladder and pulled down all three aerials and dragged them off. At the door he wished me a good evening.
     "Yeah, sure, same to you," I replied with the lowest level of sarcasm I could manage.

     As soon as I was sure he had descended the stairs, I began searching for Mini-Peter. I hadn't seen him leave his house, but where could he be?
     "Mini-Peter?" I asked. "Mini-Mozo??" I tried, just in case. "Mini-Peter, where are you?" I called, starting to get worried, but just then he appeared.

     "Have they gone?" he asked nervously.
     "Yeah, they're gone. Are you okay?"
     "I suppose." He climbed up through the trap door and stamped it closed until it disappeared completely into the carpet. I'd never noticed it was there. He looked at his empty desk with horror. "They've taken EVERYTHING!" he whined.
     "I know, I could't stop them, they had a warrant."
     "Do they want to arrest me?"
     "I don't think so, but they do want to talk to you."
     He sat in his desk chair and stared at the wall.
     "Well, you knew it was illegal, what did you expect?"
     "I don't know," he pouted.
     "I'm sorry they took your stuff."
     "Eh, it's okay. It was an awful lot of work running a radio station all by myself. I haven't slept more than an album's worth in days."
     "Go get some sleep then. You can call the police station in the morning."
     "Yeah, okay." He slunk off to bed and collapsed there, where he slept for about fourteen hours.

     And so ends the reign of Mini-Mozo and Radio Mozo FM. If you found it, you knew where it was. You told your friends... now which one of you told the cops?

UPDATE

     We made a few phone calls the next morning and managed to get the Mini-Police to release Mini-Peter's computer and telephone. They had misplaced his Orange mouse pad and he was most irritated about it, but he was too tired to fight over it so I told him I'd help him find or make a new one.

     They told us he could have the rest of his equipment back when he passed the test and got licensed for legal Ham Radio transmission, but that if he ever got caught broadcasting illegally again, he would be arrested and his equipment would be confiscated permanently. He's hard at work studying for the test now, so at least his time is still well occupied!