The Mouse and the Lion

Once upon a time there was a lion called Kevin. Kevin was a mighty lion, one of the favorite hunting lions of the Emperor Hush. Kevin was very proud of how mighty he was, and when he walked through the jungle, he would roar and roar and roar, scaring the #$%^ out of the other animals. Kevin had extremely good hearing

One day Kevin was taking a nap in a clearing, and a mouse came by, listening to a baseball game on his little transistor radio. That little bit of noise was enough to wake Kevin up and make him very, very angry indeed.

The mouse, who wasn’t bothering anybody, was almost across the clearing when Kevin’s mighty paw thundered to the ground next to him.

“Stop!” he roared. “What is that filth you’re listening to?”

“Please, sir,” the mouse replied, “it’s the baseball game. It’s not filth. A little depressing maybe, because the Orioles just went to the bullpen, and we all know how well that usually works out, but it’s certainly not obscene. You know, apart from that.”

“I’ll decide,” Kevin roared more loudly still, “what’s obscene!” And with that he snatched the little transistor radio away from the now-quivering mouse.

“But the radio, sir,” the poor thing squeaked, “belongs to me. It was a gift from my venerated grandfather.”

“Stuff and nonsense,” Kevin growled back. “You’ll get it back when I’m good and ready—if I think you should have it back at all. Now begone before I decide to feed you to the Emperor Hush.

And the mouse, he scurried away.

Kevin listened to the “baseball game” and, sure enough, he could hear other mice in the crowd, and at least one of them was using language the Emperor had deemed “dirty,” words like #$%^, *@$$, ?>|&, |+!?, *^&%$#@#^!, #$~!*&#*!&*$ and ^&!@. Yes.

So Kevin, with the emperor’s blessing, started arresting all the mice who had little transistor radios, because they were bad and unpatriotic and unholy.

Until one day, Kevin walked into a strange part of the jungle, having heard there was a rebel horde of mice there. Suddenly, he was caught up in a big mesh net, the mesh made from very strong cable. He roared mightily and struggled and thrashed, but to no avail.

Exhausted, the lion finally looked at his surroundings. He was in a small sunlit clearing and all around him, giggling at him, were mice, some of them very, very old.

“We want you to give the little transistor radios back to our grandchildren,” said the oldest and wisest of the mice. “For years, when you walked through the jungle, we were more than happy to pull, say, a thorn from your paw, or to scratch an itch on that part of your neck you can’t quite reach….”

“Ooo,” said Kevin, “I really do hate that itch thing, true enough. But no deal. Those things are evil; the emperor has said so. And he’s right.”

“Then we will leave you up there, alone and starving and thirsty and clueless, there in the net.” And the mice left.

A few days later the mice returned. Kevin was desperate now, for he could not find any means of escape from the cables.

“Perhaps,” he said magnanimously, “I was a little hasty. Maybe the emperor is wrong. I will give you your little transistor radios back. Can you please get me out of here now?”

“It is too late,” the mice replied as one, “We can’t listen to the baseball game anymore. You have rendered the device useless. You should be proud.”

And for a brief moment, Kevin was. But he was still caught in the net.

“So if I have succeeded, there is no reason to keep me trapped anymore. My job is done.”

The mice started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Kevin demanded. “I command you to let me down!”

The mice, still laughing happily, produced video iPods from their pockets. On the little screens, Kevin (who, unlike most lions, had very good eyesight) could see: Football and Baseball and (gasp! GASP!) Movies.

“Fuck off, Kevin.”