Two original production cels from Cosgrove Hall's Danger Mouse, and together they put the entire show's world on the wall: the grand confrontational set-piece, and the cosy domestic absurdity of life inside the pillar box.

The first is a proper three-character showdown. Danger Mouse stands at the base of a sweeping, multi-tiered stone staircase, one arm raised in that unmistakably assertive point, while up at the top Baron Silas Greenback looms in his yellow jacket, all menace and self-regard, with a flustered Penfold hovering nervously at his shoulder. The hand-painted background gives you crenellated castle walls and a washed lavender sky, the exact kind of theatrical staging Cosgrove Hall used to make their spy parody feel genuinely cinematic on a British children's television budget. David Jason's Danger Mouse was, as Brian Cosgrove put it, "softly spoken, very British, very heroic, but also a bit of a coward", and a cel with all three principals locked in confrontation captures that tension perfectly. Penfold's bespectacled anxiety next to Greenback's cool disdain is the whole show in a single frame. Whether this is from "The Four Tasks of Danger Mouse" or another episode from the long run, the visual storytelling is exactly what made the series work.

The second cel shifts to the headquarters inside the Baker Street pillar box, where Danger Mouse has found himself on an exercise machine, looking thoroughly focused and not entirely pleased about it. The background is the clean, tiled laboratory-meets-kitchen setting that served as DM's base of operations across much of the run, blue and teal tiles, a white three-drawer unit, a very British double socket on the right wall. This kind of solo headquarters scene was a staple of early episodes: a brief comedic beat, often before Colonel K patched through with the next mission, letting the show breathe before throwing DM back into the chaos.

Both cels are 12-field productions on acetate with bottom peg holes, mounted on printed presentation backgrounds, and in perfectly preserved condition from a private collection. One cel gives you the confrontation, the other gives you the comedy. Between them they offer an unusually complete picture of what made this series so enduringly fond in British childhood memory.