"Where have you been?!" Bill demanded. "You'd better not have been leaving anonymous tips at Baker Street again! The boss will have your hide!"
"Who gives a rat's ears?" I muttered.
Bill's eyes widened. "What did you say?!"
I shrugged. "I don't mind repeating it. Yes, I did leave an anonymous letter for Basil since the boss will be gone until later this afternoon, and even if he returned this very moment, I don't give a rat's tail!"
Lewis gasped. "Will you hush?!"
"Why? Were you offended by the expression?"
"I can't say that I was," Lewis answered, "but then again, I'm not a rat."
I turned to Bill. "Did it offend you?"
He shook his head. "It's like Lewis said. It didn't bother me, but I'm not a rat either."
"So what the two of you are saying is that anyone who is not a rat shouldn't be offended by similar phrases?" I paused briefly for effect before adding. "That being, since the boss isn't a rat, then expressions about giving a rat's ears or tail shouldn't bother him either. Is it not so?"
Slight grins gradually crossed their faces. Before a quarter of an hour had passed, they had combined their creativity with that of the other henchmen to come up with a parody. They sang Ratigan's favorite song at the top of their lungs, but they replaced every "Oh, Ratigan!" or "To Ratigan!" with "Who gives a rat's?!" During the middle of the third (and loudest) chorus, the world's worst criminal rat returned to his lair.
"WHAT IN MORIARTY'S NAME ARE YOU IMBECILES SINGING?!" he demanded.
"We thought you wouldn't mind, sir," I explained. "You see, only a rat would be offended by expressions like 'Who gives a rat's tail?' As we're all aware, there certainly aren't any rats here! The only ones here are respectable rodents, and rats are filthy, disgusting, contemptible creatures who don't deserve to live."
Professor Sewer Rat's face turned red as if he were about to explode, but he didn't dare contradict me or show that he had taken offense, for to do so would be to admit that he was a rat.
"If there was a rat around this lair," I continued, "none of us would be prepared to tolerate his foolishness, and we'd all secretly be hoping that he'd either be arrested by Basil or eaten by Felicia."
Ratigan looked as if he were seconds away from having a heart attack.
"Don't you agree about how horrible rats are, sir?"
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "While I agree that there are no rats here, I would appreciate if you would refrain from mentioning them. As you say, we don't tolerate rats at the lair, so why must we even bring them up in conversation?"
"You do make an excellent point," I agreed.
"By the way, do any of you know who informed Basil that I was planning a heist tomorrow afternoon?"
I gasped and placed a hand over my heart in shock. "How could he have found out?! You're the world's greatest criminal mind!"
Ratigan sighed. "I suppose that insufferable pipsqueak does know how to pretend to be intelligent at times."
None of them dared to speak a word, but I knew the other henchmen celebrated our success in letting the boss know what we truly thought of him without getting ourselves killed. It was a day we would always remember, albeit any laughter at Ratigan's expense was behind his back. I'm sure I'll be finding ways to call him a rat for the rest of my life.
