The crow was happy as it flew above the trees, circling, looking for the perfect tree. The same could not be said for the trout caught in the crow’s beak, flopping about, trying to survive, but in fact, dying with each spasm and flutter. The crow finally spotted the perfect branch, where it could eat the scaly twitch in the sun. It was hoping for a solar ceviche effect minus the citrus fruit. For the sake of closure, the trout’s last thoughts were, “I wish I had spent more time with my children.”
The crow hummed a fish song loudly. [Homonym alert: not to be confused with Phish, a popular jam band.] It was a joyous song that contained the lyrics, “Gonna eat me some fish that I just snatched with my beak, the best damn fish I’ve eaten in weeks.” The melody was so catchy, it made the big crossover and was known throughout the animal kingdom.
It just so happened, a fox heard the melody above him. Not to be an animalist or nothing, but the fox was the perfect walking stereotype of a fox. He had keen hearing skills. He was sly as sin. He was good at math. He had nasty teeth. He spoke with an affected British accent that made everything seem sarcastic.
He called up to the crow, “Ay-up, crow, I lo-o-o-o-ve that song.”
The crow stiffened, then looked down at the fox suspiciously.
The fox sat and stared up at the crow. “I might add, you are very easy on the eyes, and at the risk of being too cheeky, you are quite the sex bomb.”
The crow blushed.
The fox smiled, showing off his crooked teeth. “If your singing voice was anywhere near as beautiful as you, I would swear off same-species sex and go all crow. Would you, could you indulge me with song?”
The crow complied. It opened up its beak to sing, “Gonna eat me some…” and then the trout fell from the crow’s mouth right into the fox’s mouth, which was waiting below, wide open. The fox swallowed the fish whole, and punctuated the moment with a concise burp.
The crow was horrified at what had just transpired, more so as to how stupid and vain it was to fall for the fox’s smooth talking. Not knowing what to do, the crow flew off.
The fox went on to create the reality show, American Idol, for Fox Television.
MORAL: Pride comes before a fall. Or there is no fool me once, shame on you mumbo jumbo, it’s all on you, and you alone, if you’re dumb enough to trust a fox…idiot.