The Mouse's Head
This is a re make of an old story, a morality ode.
The Great King was informed of the hole, its size, and the problem the Discovery Mouse had. Hmm…. Said the Great King, this calls for a Little Mouse. He passed the demand to the Lord High Chamberlain, and down the line. The Staff formed into a phalanx of rows and columns by declining rank and stature. They amassed and marched to the room of The Little Mouse and pounded upon his door. "Little Mouse the Great King commands your presence."
The Little Mouse figured this summons was just the preliminaries to a good old-fashioned ass kicking. But he was asked nicely to come, in the politeness of the Staff but that's much better than he would have expected. But then he figured this was just their way. " Come Little Mouse the King demands your presence." Demands, commands. No swearing though.
He was escorted to the door of the Chief of Staff who dutifully noted his little appearance and sniffing haughtily passed him quickly as one passing dirty socks to the Royal Court Chamberlain who in no better mood ushered him along to the great office of the Royal High Chamberlain who instructed the Little Mouse about Royal etiquette and thus to the Great Door of throne room and there before the throne and the Great King Mouse.
"We", we you say, what a liar, "have discovered a great and wonderful place. It is Our Wish that you be the first to pass through the portal that guards this great place. Once inside you are to withdraw its treasures and pass them to me. Well not directly but to those that may pass to me." Deigning to look only at the top of the prostrate Little Mouse's small head.
"I?" said the Little Mouse. " I am never allowed such wonderful adventures. I am the runt."
"Well, Runt, you are to be the Royal Purveyor of Delicious Objects."
The Little Mouse was puffed up with pride. "Then let's be at it."
A grand procession, first led by minions of guards and Royal flowers tossers, followed by Staff, the Chief of Staff, the Chamberlain, and the Royal Lord High Chamberlain followed by the King dutifully fussed over by fussers and fidgeters and then at the back of the pack walked Little Mouse. They arrived at the hole, each in turn smelled the aromas and then backed away as the rank of royalty shoved the lowerings aside. Finally the King arrived. He thrust his great nose into the hole; he sniffed decorously. "A very nice aroma. Little Mouse follow your instructions, enter the hole, and pass out the treats. We will distribute the treasures accordingly". All to me; you plebeians!
The Little Mouse pulled in his small stomach, filled his chest with great airs and majestically walked to the hole. All eyes were on him and all tummies were thinking of the food the hole possessed. The Little Mouse squeezed easily into the hole. The chamber was dark. But the light from the hole allowed after a bit for the Mouse to see huge packages of cookies, a wrapped cake, a loaf of fresh smelling bread and a sausage. What a delight!
The Little Mouse reached for the first cookie. "Well they must allow him the new Royal Purveyor a small cookie."
The King Mouse waited, then anxiously, " Hey Little Mouse, we are waiting."
"Yes, but I am examining the treasures."
A minion of lower rank screamed out. " Hey you selfish skinny assed Runt pass out the food. Who does he think he is? A Royal Runt! Ha Ha, a Royal Runt." And so all laughed and waited for the food.
Inside the hole Little Mouse ate the second cookie and a little Blueberry Pie. He was now eating so fast that he didn't hear the screams. The swearing that would have blanched a wharf rat's wife. The Little Mouse responded with mumbles as he spit out a chocolate covered cherry's pit.
He ravishly ate on. The King pondered, the Royal Lord High Chamberlain fidgeted, the Chief plotted, the Staff conferred and the Minions bitched. And the Little Mouse exhausted the pies and cookies. He started on the sausage and breads. And as fast as he began it was finished. Not a crumb. Not a morsel left. He was no longer a skinny assed little mouse. He approached the hole and stuck his head through. The Minions cursed and the rest watched in amazement as the Little Mouse wedged himself firmly in the hole.
"Help me! I'm stuck, tight. The Minions looked at their betters and the King shrugged. " Well it seems you are stuck. And we have not the ability to pull you free."
The Little Mouse pushed harder and more firmly he was wedged. His head stuck out of the hole. The Procession suddenly scattered. And the King turned to look at the mouse, "Yes you are stuck and worse than that here comes the CAT!", and with that scurried off. The Little Mouse saw the CAT and screamed a pitiful little screech. The CAT spied the Little Mouse and immediately, bit his head off.
The Moral of this Story is:
It's Better to be a little mouse than give the CAT Head.
Kent Herrick 11th of May, 2000