I’m a rat. Not your ordinary sewer rat but the highly acclaimed citrus rat. We be handsome, creative and extremely large with a stupendous I.Q., except for readin, rightin and ritheramatic. My clan we watch each other’s backside and work together as a team. So, we’ve been living in this shed right next to the citrus orchard for about a year. Humans came by and placed one of those ‘have-a-heart-traps’ right by the couch we was chewing up. My intellect tells me they have no heart at all but plan our demise. That big slice of Swiss cheese inside is real tempting.
The gang needs a good strategy to get that piece of smelly cheese without getting captured. As much as I hate to admit it we need to connect with the sewer rats and devise a scheme. Their devious minds and unscrupulous plotting combined with our sleek buff bodies and charming ways will get us the golden goose at the end of the rainbow. Let me think about this situation. One large chunk of Swiss cheese divided by thirty or so rats. That’s more fingers and toes I have to count on. I’ll have to call a secret meeting with my guys and discuss how to run off with the cheese and not share with those lowly sewer rats.
We’ll start with a marvelous moon dance to keep our identity in escrow. Wait, we don’t want any of those crows pilfering our goods. We’ll just have to have a fantabulous night dancing by the light of the moon and entice those sewer rats inside that ‘have-a-heart-trap’ and slip away into the darkness with the cheese. In the morning we can open those shed doors exposing that heartless trap and make sounds to encourage the crows to investigate. Then, we will run off free as a bird just not an escrow bird and no one will know about our involvement.