The Revenge of Gus-gus
A/N: another poor attempt of humor by somebody who is far too serious. Sorry it isn't longer.
Gus-gus the Mouse stood by the edge of a hole in the barn woodwork, his eyes narrowed and his chubby face screwed into a grimace. Now, Gus-gus was not like the other Mice in the world; he was one of the few that could engage in rather detailed and specific conversatoin with humans. Why this was the case Gus-gus wasn't sure, but perhaps it had something to do with the spirit of the Fairy Godmother that had haunted this farm for centuries. Yes, perhaps it was her magic that gifted the Mice the ability to speak, if crudely, to any human who was willing to listen, and to wear clothes and engage their minds in activities such as making ribbons and shashes.
However, Gus-gus did not seem quite as smart or talented as the other mice. Speaking came with great effort for him, his paws were clumsy, and he hated sewing. In fact Gus-gus really had only one talent, or so the other Mice said, and that was to consume more food than five other Mice put together. Maybe that was why the Mouse's shirt covered only his fluffy torso and left his portruding belly quite naked.
Gus-gus was the joke of the Mouse community, so much so that when Jaque and many others moved into the palace with Cinderella, he preferred to stay behind. It wasn't that Jaque wasn't a good friend, or that any of the Mice had any real dislike for Gus-gus; but Gus-gus stayed of his accord in the hopes that he might so something grand to prove his talent.
So there he stood in one corner of the barn of Cinderella's old barn, waiting for his oppotrunity to strike. He was watching the chickens. At a time not so long ago, Gus-gus was a newcomer and knew nothing about barn life. He was eager but agitated. And how did the chickens repsond to this poor stranger? With selfish brutality!
The chickens had stolen every bit of grain and corn that Cinderella dropped. Gus-gus had been extremely hungry and no matter how he tried, he had been unable to get a single bite to eat. In fact, he was almost trampled to death. By the time Gus-gus finally had his arms full of corn, the cat was in the barn and the Mouse had to flee for his life. Gus-gus swore he heard the cackling laughter of the chickens behind him.
But there was nothing he could do. It was a well-known fact that chickens were not to be messed with. Only the very bravest and strongest of the Mice, or the very stupidest, ever dared to challenge a chicken over a meal. And so Gus-gus was convinced that the only way to earn repsect from his community was to stick it to the rooster.
It didn't work out quite the way he wanted. Gus-gus wasn't sure how he expected the fowl to react when he dashed out of the hole in the corner, exlcaiming vibrantly, "Gus-gus gonna eata chicky food," but he certainly didn't expect them to completely ignore him. The rooster eyed him lazily, and the rest didn't concern themselves at all, just went on plucking from the trough of feed set out for them and the other animals.
Gus-gus flew into a righteous rage, scrambled across the barn floor, and came bravely to the foot of the feeding trough where, he decided, he would eat whatever he liked in the very presence of the chickens.
At last this got a reaction. A hen exclaimed in horror and leapt back; another two glared at him and stomped their feet at the intrusive mouse. Gus-gus dodged easily and even willed hismelf to make faces at the fowl, even though his heart was thudding faster than he previously knew it could.
Then came the rooster. Its red beak came down like a flash of lightning so fast that Gus-gus didn't have a chance to escape, and only survived a skewering peck because the bird's aim was off. The ground trembled a millimter from Gus-gus' body, where the beak was lodged between the aged boards of the barn floor.
Now the whole company of chickens was at Gus-gus. He didn't have a chance unless he acted quickly. The hens made terrrible noises, flaunting their beaks, stamping their clawed feet, and frantically waving their white-feathered wings. The rooster's eyes flamed as he tried to dislodge his beak from the floorboards. Seizing his only opportunity, Gus-gus jumped on the rooster's beak, dashed across onto the bird's narrow head, and ran screaming up the feathered body.
The hens went crazy. They attacked their own rooster, trying to get at Gus-gus, who by that time had jumped clean of the fowl's back and landed on the edge of the feed-trough. It was at this point that Gus-gus had a very good idea. It wasn't enough to simply make the chickens angry and cause their rooster to be humiliated and injured; other mice may have done that. But what no other mouse had done was to take away all of the day's rations from the chickens.
So that is just what Gus-gus did. He ran along the edge of the feeding trough, dodging beak-blows from the enraged she-chickens, leapt onto the floor, and ducked between the back of the trough and the barn wall. It was such a thin place that no chickens could get at it. Here, Gus-gus was safe, and had access to both the feeding trough, and the mouse hole right on the floor.
This particular mouse-hole had not been used by any of the mice in quite a while because it was so difficult to travel through. Steep was an understatement; the tunnel was practically vertical from top to bottom, more like a trash shoot than a passage. Gus-gus, however, thought that this hole was the best of them all.
And here is why. Gus-gus at once began to gnaw at the back of the trough, and soon he was able to make a gap. At first slowly, but quickly increasing as the pressure built and Gus-gus applied his teeth more forcefully, the chicken-feed began to fall out of the trough. The food spilled on the ground and then, of course, into the hole deirectly at the trough's feet. Down the hole the chicken food cascaded, straight down into the depths under the barn. The trough was emptying quickly.
As livid as the chickens were, they could do nothing but watch as their food drained away. They were all severely disappointed. Of course, there would be more food tomorrow—but to be beaten out by a Mouse! It was a shame to all chicken-kind.
At last only one or two grains of feed remained, and just as one downcast hen moved forward to consume it in forlorn silence, Gus-gus snatched it from right under her nose.
"Gus-gus eata chicky food," he laughed, and did.
And so the revenge of Gus-gus was complete, and from that day on, both the hens and the Mice treated Gus-gus with more respect. The rooster, however, remained furious at Gus-gus. This was probably due to the fact that he had got his beak lodged in the floorboards, and when he finally removed it, the beak was dull and blunt and could never be used to skewer a mouse ever again.
The End