Journal Entry

Friday, February 8, 2008

Retellings


"How long?" cried the field mouse, quivering with rage and fear. "How many of us must be bopped cruelly upon the head... before you consent... to ACT?"

From within the cold blue radiance among the trees, a faint tinkling sound was heard, as of shattering ice. The field mouse felt her throat constrict.

At last a voice, cold as the winter moon: "The time of reckoning is not yet at hand. But know that your folk... will be AVENGED..:"

Posted by benrosen at February 8, 2008 02:44 PM | Up to blog
Comments

<laughing>

Posted by: Mary Anne Mohanraj at February 8, 2008 02:58 PM

WAAAAA hahahahahahahahaha!

Posted by: Matt at February 8, 2008 03:38 PM

Only six more verses, honest.

Posted by: Dave Schwartz at February 8, 2008 05:01 PM

The way we end the song nowadays:

"...you didn't behave, so I'm turning you into a GOON!

POOF!

Little Goon Foo Foo, hopping through the picket lines,
Scooping up the strikers and bopping them on the head!

And up came the Union Maid... and she said,

Oh you can't scare me, I'm sticking to the union!
I'm sticking to the union!
I'm sticking to the union!
Oh you can't scare me, I'm sticking to the union!
Till the day I die!"

Posted by: Benjamin Rosenbaum at February 13, 2008 12:26 PM

Mouse Armor:

http://jeffdeboer.com/Galleries/CatsandMice/tabid/77/Default.aspx

Posted by: Maus at March 6, 2008 10:23 PM

Nice!

Posted by: Benjamin Rosenbaum at March 7, 2008 09:21 AM
Post a comment









Please choose one:


Thank you. Remember personal info?