About a year ago THE HARE and his forest chums were forced to relocate when the wood in which they lived was sold to a big-city construction company. THE HARE assembled his loyal friends and set-about organising a mass migration to a new forest on an island – they called it the Promised Land!
FAT CAT bought some timber and SQUIRREL turned it into a boat. FOX procured a few knock-off limes for the journey, while TORTOISE promised not to misbehave. But as prudent as their efforts were, some of the woodland creatures were unable to use the boat.
“The waves are rough,” said THE HARE, “and the ants will be crushed underfoot; the poor caterpillars cannot hold on for they have no arms; and the scorpion might sting us by accident if he gets scared.”
And so MR TOAD and his toady pals offered to give their unfortunate friends a ride across the waves.
The day of their journey arrived. Aboard the boat the larger animals climbed, and onto the backs of the toads the others did crawl.
MR TOAD himself carried the ants.
“On you come, boys! You will be welcome in the Promised Land for your tireless work and limitless humility. Industry and honesty like yours is the backbone of any great civilisation!” The ants thanked him and clambered onto his back.
MR TOAD’S brother Reginald Toad tried to round up the caterpillars but they kept falling over and crying;
“What use will we be?! We cannot even stand for we have not yet found our feet. We are weak, and we have no choice but to sponge off society.” Reginald shook his head and cooed;
“You needn’t worry, little friends. Useless as you may be now, you will grow and flourish into something beautiful. Just like Johnny Marr.” The caterpillars – all of whom were fans of The Smiths and one of Marr’s later works – smiled graciously and wriggled onto Reginald’s back.
Only the Scorpion was left. He sneered at Brian Toad, MR TOAD’S warty cousin.
“Are you givin’ me a lift, or what?” he snarled. Brian looked down at him warily.
“I’ve heard about you, Scorpion. You’re a bad egg. You take what you want and don’t care who gets hurt in the process. A criminal, they call you. No matter how much people try to help you, you keep throwing it back in their face. I’m not sure I trust you on my back with that big stinger of yours.”
“Listen,” said the Scorpion, “Why would I sting you? If I sting you, you will drown and I will drown also. I don’t want to die. Now stop being a flaming whoopsy and let me on your disgusting back.”
With a tear in his eye Brian acquiesced, and the Scorpion hopped on board.
Into the water the three toads dived. Soon MR TOAD and Reginald had made it to the Promised Land where they were greeted by THE HARE and the others. But Brian did not arrive.
“Look there!” cried THE HARE, pointing out to sea. There, struggling as the poison took-hold, was Brian, bobbing above and below the surface.
“Why?” he sobbed.
“I’m a Scorpion;” said his killer, “it’s my nature.”
Pick up THE HARE newspaper at Night and Day, Bar Centro, Font or Tiger Lounge in Manchester town centre, or the Oakwood in Glossop.
E-mail theharenewspaper@hotmail.co.uk with questions, comments or contributory pieces.
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