Story of Nonsense, part I

Once upon a time, there was a little mouse named Steve, with little whiskers and little grey ears. Sometimes he wore a little pair of spectacles and a tiny waistcoat, but only on the holidays. Everybody loved Steve, simply because he was a mouse. (Or, at the very least, everybody Steve knew, who would be a little songbird named Gwen and a dandelion who didn't talk much.)

Except for Sally, who was a musophobiac.
This would not be a problem if Steve didn't live in Sally's kitchen. He lived there because Sally was a maid in a fancy kitchen, cooking meals for a  fancy family in a fancy household in a fancy neighborhood in a fancy... well, you get the idea. Steve had to live in the kitchen; all the food was there. Occasionally there was enough dropped tidbits of things that Steve could make a sandwich. Or a grilled cheese. Or, if he was terribly lucky, a salad! Steve was a fan of salads. Yum, yum, yum. Salads with cauliflower. Cauliflower for lunch and dinner...

 Steve blinked rapidly and shook his head, realizing he had been digressing. He had been writing his biography, which he did by using a pencil stub he'd found and holding it in his mouth. Steve examined his work... and remembered that he had no spelling ability whatsoever and that this method of writing was rather impractical. Steve shrugged and nibbled the bit of paper he was writing on to smithereens. There, he thought. Then he looked around his humble home inside the wall of the kitchen. He knew it might be a tad drab, considering how he didn't even have a matchbox to sleep in, but he was cozy.
& hungry. Very hungry. So hungry, he dared risk a trip to the kitchen for some scrounging. Sally had recently made breakfast for the fancy family, and Steve hoped for a smidgen of butter and a cracker, or perhaps some cookies. Yum, cookies. Steve loved cookies, too.

Steve poked his little nose outside of his home in the wall and twitched his little whiskers.
"Sniff sniff, sniff sniff."
He poked his head out.
Blink. 
He scampered insanely fast up the tablecloth and looked around cautiously. A bowl, some glasses, and--
Steve gave a squeak of joy. Could it be? Could it really be? A plate of fresh strawberries and bowl of lettuce stood within easy reach. But what was this? Steve heard Sally making her way towards the kitchen. Oh, lovely. What should I do now? Steve thought irritably. Run like double-greased lightning to get some fruit and veggies, risking getting my beautiful and mighty useful tail chopped off--or worse!-- by Sally, or run to the safety of my house, risking losing this wonderful feast?
Oh, whatever.
Steve raced for the fruit.