Misha goes to the kitchen. It's already lunchtime for him. He's supposed to have lunch with the other mascots but decided to eat alone today.

He opens the refrigerator. There's a lot of stuff in there: a jar of pickles, herring in tomato sauce, a bottle of kefir, a half-eaten apple... But none of this appeals to him today. He would have liked something more delicious.

Then he looked into the cupboard above the faucet. There was a lot there too. What should he choose? Cereals? He eats it every day anyway, he's had enough. Instant noodles? Too unhealthy. Tea? Too boring. Coffee? Too... bourgeois.

Now, he saw the best thing ever. A jar of honey. Pure, golden, delicious honey. Yeah, he loves it, like all bears do. And it's not just because it tastes great. For Misha, it's a real treasure. It's like something his mum used to give him when he was a little cub for a special treat.

He took out a jar with the words "МЁД" on it. When he opened the lid, a sweet, rich scent filled the room, making his mouth water. He stuck his furry paw into the jar and scooped out a lot of golden liquid. It was sticky and warm. He licked it off and sighed happily.

"Just how tasty it is..." Misha murmured to himself, savouring the honey as it slowly slid down his throat. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen. He quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his paw, trying to hide the jar behind his back.

"Oh, hi there, Misha!" Waldi poked his head into the kitchen, his long dachshund ears bobbing with the movement. The smell of honey lingered in the air, but Misha had shoved the jar back into the cupboard before he was caught red-pawed. "Just grabbing a snack?"

"Oh, uuh... yeah, just a snack," Misha replied, trying to sound nonchalant. He hoped the sweet aroma wouldn't give him away.

"It looks like you are a fan of honey!" Sam's voice cut through the air, and Misha froze.

The bear cub looked up and saw Sam standing in the doorway, his piercing eagle eyes scrutinizing the scene. Misha's heart sank. He had never been good at hiding things from Sam, especially when it came to food.

"Oh, it's YOU," Misha said, feigning annoyance.

"Yes, that's ME," Sam said with a smug grin, his beak tilting upwards.

Let me tell you a little bit about Sam. He's the mascot of the 1984 Summer Olympics, a proud bald eagle with a penchant for all things American. As of now, he is the governor of the American Province in Olympia. And I'll tell you, he's a true patriot of America: he hates everyone who is generally considered an enemy of the Americans, like communists, British, and, of course, those pesky illegal immigrants. But what he hates most of all is Misha, especially because Misha holds an important government position... although Sam isn't sure why since he's just a bear.

"I called Sam over to discuss something important," Waldi said, his eyes darting back and forth between the two mascots. "But it seems like I've caught you at a bad time... Sorry about that!"

"Heh... it's fine, Waldi," Misha said, trying to put on a brave face. "What's so important that you needed to drag the eagle out of his nest?"

Waldi looked at both of them nervously. "Well, it's about the upcoming sports event, the Friendship Games. You know, the one that's going to unite all the mascots of Olympia."

"That sounds interesting!" Misha said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "What's the plan, comrade?"

"Stop calling everyone like that!" Sam snapped. "Seriously, it's annoying. We're not in the Soviet Union anymore. And never were!"

"As if the Soviet Union ever did anything bad," Misha was mumbling to himself, which earned him a sharp glare from Sam. "Are all Americans like that?"

"What do you mean by that?" Sam's feathers ruffled, his eyes narrowing.

"Are all Americans as crazy and mean as you?" Misha retorted, unable to help himself from being snarky.

"As if you Russians are the embodiment of peace and friendship," Sam replied, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"We are!"

"Why do you think so?"

"At least we're not the ones invading every country we can get our paws on!" Misha said, with a slight twitch of his fur.

"It was all about spreading democracy," Sam said, getting more excited. "And let me tell you about your country's 'peaceful' past!"

"What's wrong with our history?"

Waldi had been trying unsuccessfully to calm them down all this time: "Guys, guys, come on! Can we just focus on the Friendship Games for a minute? We're all in this together!"

"Well, Stalin was the one who killed millions of his people!" Sam spat out.

"No, he didn't! Stalin was a hero!" Misha's voice got louder and louder. "He was the one with who we won over Hitler!"

"We fought over Hitler too! And we didn't need a mass murderer to do it," Sam shot back, his beak turning red with anger.

"Your capitalist philosophy is as fake as your teeth!" Misha roared, his eyes flashing. "Stalin was a true leader, unlike those puppets you call presidents!"

"America has always been a great country, and you commies just don't get it!" Sam's voice bounced around the kitchen, and his chest was puffed out. "We stand for freedom and equality!"

"Guys, please don't fight, we're mascots after all!" Waldi was saying, but no one heard him anymore.

"Say, how much did the government hand out to that Soviet engineer, anyway?" Sam asked, changing the topic with a grin.

A short pause.

"And you are lynching Negroes!" Misha shot back.

"I've had enough, I'm going home!" Sam yelled.

"Well, fine then! I guess I'll just have to eat my honey after all!" Misha said, turning back to the cupboard. But the jar of honey was gone. "Hey, it was right here!"

"Ha, gotcha!" Sam laughed. "You'll know how to insult us! This is such revenge from the Cold War!"

With that, Sam finally left. Misha was feeling a mix of anger and relief, and Waldi... Well, he was having an existential crisis.

Here's Sam wandering down the street. He seems to be mumbling something.

"How dare he say that about me! And about America!" Sam's mind was racing. "At least he got what he deserved! Now let him deal with his stolen honey!"

And so he came back home. His feathers were all ruffled and his beak was sharper than ever. All that talking had made him pretty hungry too.

What should he eat, you ask? Why, a cheeseburger, of course! Sam has a secret stash at home. They're his favourite food from before he was the mascot for the 1984 Olympics.

And so, he went to the refrigerator... But they weren't there!

"What the heck is this?" Sam yelled in frustration, his eyes darting around the empty fridge. "Where the heck are my cheeseburgers?!"

In a flash, he thought, maybe it was Misha. But why would the bear be after his cheeseburgers? Could it be because of the argument they had? Sam's brain was going crazy with thoughts of getting revenge. But wait, Misha doesn't even know where he lives. Unless...

The eagle decided to call the bear. He dialled his number on the phone.

"Hello?" Misha's voice came through the line.

"Did you nick my cheeseburgers?" Sam yelled into the phone, not even bothering to say hello.

"Why should I steal your bourgeois food?!" Misha yelled back through the phone. "I have my treasures like this honey you seem to have a taste for!"

"Why would I steal your..." Sam paused, his beak clicking, as the realization hit him. "Hold on... What if it was someone else?"

"What do you mean by that?" Misha's voice grew suspicious.

"Well, come on, think about it," said Sam, his anger fading a bit. "What if somebody's pulling a fast one on us? You know, like a common enemy trying to create trouble between us?"

"Hm? A common enemy?" Misha's voice grew thoughtful. "But who would do such a thing?"

"We need to investigate!" Sam's voice grew firm over the phone. "And we must do it together!"

"Together?"

"Look, I know we're not exactly best buds," Sam said, keeping his tone as civil as possible. "But we do both love Olympia and what it stands for. Whoever's behind this is playing a risky game. And we need to figure out who it is."

Misha thought for a little.

"You know what, maybe you're right," Misha said after a pause. The idea of having a common enemy had sparked his interest, putting aside the anger from their previous argument. "Okay, let's work together."

"Awesome! I knew you'd be down for it," Sam said, grinning from ear to ear. "Let's meet up in my kitchen! That's where it all went down!"

In no time, Misha was at Sam's front door. He didn't bother knocking and just pushed the door open with his big paws. Sam was in the kitchen, still looking a bit messy but with a spark of determination in his eyes. The kitchen was spotless, almost too clean.

"I know a thing or two about crime scenes, being a former detective," Sam said, gesturing around the kitchen with his arm. "There's not a single crumb out of place. Whoever did this was a pro."

"Man, if this is a professional job then we've got our work cut out for us," Misha said, curiosity getting the better of him. He sniffed the air, trying to catch any unusual scent. The kitchen had a faint smell of cleaner, like something that clung to everything in the place. "But my nose is pretty good at this stuff. It smells like... some kind of rodent... but not just any rodent! A rat! Or maybe it was a mouse?"

"That's interesting! A rodent, huh? But why would it take my cheeseburger and your honey?" Sam's eyes narrowed and he started pacing back and forth. Suddenly, he noticed a smashed flower pot in the living room and a paw print on the windowsill.

"The paw print belongs to a rodent!" Sam exclaimed, peering at the windowsill. "And I think I know just which rodent."

"Who is it?" Misha asked.

"It must be Renaud le Rat," Sam said, with a glint of excitement in his eyes. "He's just a regular old rat, but man, he causes so much trouble around here. And not just around here, either. A lot of people have tried to catch him but he's so slippery. Like a... a... a... well, like a rat!"

"Maybe we should follow those paw prints, then? They could lead us to the rat," suggested Misha, his inner bear kicking in.

Sam nodded. "Good idea. But we must be careful. This rat is cunning. We can't let our guard down."

And they took off after the sneaky thief. Sam kept an eye on the ground, searching for any signs of the rat's footsteps, while Misha followed his nose through the streets of Olympia. They checked out all sorts of places — from the lively market where the smells of spices and freshly baked bread mixed to the quiet alleyways that only had shadows for company.

For long or short, the rat's trail led them to Chinook Lake, the mini-town in the north of Appalachia (which is in American Province). It was named after the lake that is located there, which in turn was named after the winds that blow down from the mountains. It would seem that this mini-town is just an almost unknown corner of Olympia, but it's not. There's an annual event going on here... related to cowboys and the Wild West... damn, just how was it called? Anyway, it's not important right now.

And here's the lake house. Yeah, that Chinook Lake house. It's not just a house. That's the home of the mascots of the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary, the polar bear cubs named Hidy and Howdy.

Yeah, Hidy and Howdy... Also known as "the only mascots that haven't caused any trouble to anyone". A long time ago, they had a cameo in "Cool Runnings" and since then, they've been living a quiet life in their cosy lakeside place. Now that's what I call mascots — friendly, peaceful, and not stirring up international incidents.

Now, look, Howdy is carrying some firewood and Hidy is waiting for him with some smoked fish. They're dressed as cowboys, which is kinda weird for polar bears, but hey, they're the mascots, so they can get away with anything!

"Hey, you're back!" Hidy said, her blue eyes brightening as she saw Howdy. "I already made dinner with the fish you caught!"

Howdy looked at his sister with his brown eyes and his fur was a bit ruffled. "That dinner smells good, sis," he said as he set down the firewood.

"Hehe, I know!" Hidy said cheerfully.

Misha and Sam were hiding in the bushes, watching. The sight of Hidy and Howdy living peacefully was a total contrast to the tension between them. But their job was too important for personal feelings to get in the way.

But all of a sudden, the eagle stepped on a branch. The branch snapped under its weight, and the sharp sound rang through the silence. The two polar bears looked up, their eyes wide. Misha and Sam hid behind the bushes, hoping not to be spotted.

"Who's there?" Howdy called out, his deep voice resonating through the quietness of the woods. "Don't worry, we won't bite! Unless you're into something malicious, of course."

Misha and Sam looked at each other nervously. They didn't expect to be caught so easily.

"Misha, Sam! What a surprise!" Hidy greeted them, waving smoked fish at them as they peeked out from the bushes. "It's been so long! What brings you two to our humble abode?"

"We're looking for Renaud le Rat," Sam said, coming out from behind the bushes and trying to keep his voice calm despite his racing heart. "He took something from both of us. Did you at least see a rat around?"

"Rats? Here?" Hidy's smile disappeared, and she glanced around anxiously. "I don't remember seeing any rodents here, but... Our friend and neighbour, a bighorn sheep, complained about some food missing from his garden a few days ago. He said it was a small, sneaky creature."

"A small, sneaky creature!" Misha's ears pricked up at Hidy's words and he took a step closer to the polar bear cubs. "Could it be Renaud? We need to find him before he causes any more trouble. And what exactly did he steal?"

"Hmm... He said he was missing some carrots and some cabbages." Howdy muttered, scratching his fuzzy chin with a claw. "What weird tastes he has!"

"Rats are pretty much omnivores. They'll eat just about anything," said Sam, his feathers slightly ruffled. "And you never know, maybe they'd even eat your food!"

Hidy and Howdy exchanged worried glances, concern evident on their furry faces. "What should we do?"

"Well, if he eats anything, that means..." Sam's eyes lit up with the realization. "Hey, I've got an idea! Maybe we can use your smoked fish as bait!"

The polar bear cubs looked at each other and, without saying a word, nodded in agreement. "We'll help catch him," said Hidy, her voice strong. "We don't want any trouble-makers here at Chinook Lake."

Hidy went inside and returned with a few pieces of smoked fish. "Here, use these," she said, handing them to Sam. "Renaud won't be able to resist."

"Thanks a lot!" Misha grabbed the smoked fish and smelled them. "Ah, the smell of victory... or at least dinner for our little thief!"

They decided to set up a trap in an old barn, which still had some leftover food: millet, grains, and even a bit of cheese. It wasn't a five-star dinner, but it was enough to attract a hungry rat, especially if you added some smoked fish for the main course.

The trap was pretty simple. Renaud would smell the smoked fish and follow the scent to the barn. When he got there, he'd pull on the string attached to the bait, which triggered the scissors to cut the rope holding the cage. Then the cage would fall on him and trap him. It was a simple plan, but sometimes that's best.

And then, suddenly, a silhouette appeared. It was tiny, sneaky, and sort of rat-like. The four mascots watched, holding their breath, as the figure got closer, drawn by the delicious smell of the smoked fish.

The animal came closer to the fish. It was a rat, for sure, with a tail that looked kind of greasy. His little eyes were fixed on the smoked fish, and he didn't even notice the string that was attached to it. Slowly, he took another step closer, his nose twitched with excitement.

Sam held his breath. He had never been particularly fond of rodents, and the thought of one stealing from him was infuriating.

"Hang on, let it get closer," whispered Hidy, her eyes glued to the rat.

Finally, the rat reached for the smoked fish. His little paws trembled with excitement as he grabbed the string and tugged at it, unaware of the cage looming above his head.

And then, with lightning speed, the cage came crashing down, trapping the rat in a loud thud. The mascots jumped out from their hiding spots.

"Renaud le Rat, what a meeting!" Sam let out a little shout of delight, his eyes shining with glee as he looked into the cage and saw their prisoner.

The rat squeaked in protest, his tiny eyes darting back and forth in fear.

"C'mon, come on! I know it was you who took my cheeseburgers and Misha's honey!" Sam's face was inches from the rat cage, his eyes boring into the rodent's soul.

Misha stepped forward, his fur all ruffled up with excitement. "What on earth made you do that, little guy?"

Renaud le Rat, feeling trapped and a bit panicked, looked up at the enormous mascots looming over him. He knew he was in a tough spot. "Look," he started, his high-pitched voice surprisingly clever. "I... well, I'm just a rat. I can't help but love shiny stuff and tasty food. And those cheeseburgers, Mr. Sam, they were just so... so... amazing!"

Misha and Sam gave each other a sceptical look. "That's not an excuse for stealing!" Misha yelled, his paws balled into fists.

"I'm so sorry!" the rat cried, his eyes wide with panic. "I didn't mean to get into trouble. It's just that... I have a whole family to take care of. They're all hungry and I haven't gotten any food for them in days!"

Sam's feathers got a little ruffled when the topic of family came up. Although he might seem tough on the outside, there's a soft side to him when it comes to people in need. "What do you mean?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I've got a wife and five little ones," Renaud squeaked, his whiskers twitching. "Things are rough right now, and honestly, the only thing I'm good at is... well, stealing. I just wanted to put some food on the table, I swear!"

The eagle and the bear were thinking for a second. On the one hand, you know, letting a thief get away is not cool. But then again, it's clear that Renaud wasn't doing it for any personal gain.

"Here's the deal," Misha said, not taking his eyes off the rat. "You give back what you stole and promise not to do it again. If you do, we won't tell anyone."

Sam nodded in agreement, a mix of scepticism and pity in his expression. "But if we catch you again, there won't be any more chances," he warned in a stern voice.

Renaud le Rat was nodding frantically, his little body shaking. "I swear I won't steal from you or anyone ever again. Just... please, let me go."

The mascots looked at each other, thinking about their options. Finally, Sam said, "Okay, you're free to go." His voice was gruff, but not mean. "But if you break your promise, you'll regret it," he warned.

And then the next day came. Le Rat was back with a jar of honey. Misha and Sam were waiting for him outside Maison Blanche.

"Here's your honey," Renaud said nervously, offering the jar with shaky hands. "Again... sorry about what happened. I totally messed up, and I swear I won't let it happen again."

"It's fine, I guess," said Misha, his voice a bit gruff as he took the jar away from the rat. "But