Once upon a time, there was a colony of mice
who lived
in fear of a rapacious owl. The owl was accustomed to swooping
down
at any and all hours of the night and seizing citizens of the colony
without
so much as a "how do you do?" Or maybe that was a "guess who's
coming
to dinner?" Well, it didn't take long before the mice got tired
of
this.
"We've got to do something about that owl!" fumed
Murray
Mouse one day.
"Sure. But what can we do?" asked
Tillie. "She's
bigger than we are."
"And stronger!" added Willie.
Murray thought about that for awhile and said, "I,
for
one, am not going to sit still and wait to be eaten by that owl.
I
have an idea."
So, Murray started going to the gym, working out,
and
taking rodent steroids. Before long, he was the biggest,
strongest mouse
any owl had ever seen. But this did not stop the depredations of
the
owl. It still swooped down and plucked off mice at will.
"I'm big and strong, but I still can't fight that
owl,"
complained Murray.
"She has sharp talons," Tillie reminded him.
"You
don't."
"You have a point," said Murray.
Murray had plastic surgery to reshape his paws into
owl-like
talons. But this did not stop the owl.
"I don't get it," said Murray. "I'm big and
strong,
and I have sharp talons, but the owl still comes and carries off mice."
"Don't forget that she can fly," said Willie.
"That's true," admitted Murray.
Murray decided to learn to fly. He practised
very
hard and, against all odds and nature, Murray became what was probably
the
world's first flying mouse. But the owl still came and killed
mice.
"What am I doing wrong?" Murray wondered aloud.
"You're still thinking like a mouse," suggested
Tillie.
"You have to be nasty and aggressive and violent, like an owl."
"That's right," added Willie. "You have to
fight
the owl and kill it."
Murray decided that, once again, his friends were
right.
He flew out at night, engaged the owl, and killed it. The owl was
so
surprised to see a pumped-up flying mouse, that she didn't really put
up
much of a fight.
The mice danced in the streets.
"Hooray!" they cheered. "The wicked owl is
dead!
The wicked owl is dead!"
"Uh, wait just a minute," squeaked one little
mouse. "If the owl is dead, what's that?"
Sure enough, a monstrous winged shadow passed over
the
dancing assemblage. The mice cowered in fear. Then Tillie
piped
up.
"Don't worry!" she said. "That's just
Murray. He's one of us!"
The mice laughed in relief, just as Murray swooped
down
and grabbed Tillie in his talons.
"Murray!" she screamed in shock. "What are you
doing?"
"You know," said Murray as he gobbled down his
erstwhile friend, "from up here, I can see the owl's point of view."