...same as the first.

Revolucion Rodentia.

Characters:

Marcus--the inflamed intellectual (good ideas, bad science)

Katrina--his adoring lady love (matching patches)

Potts--professor of political science/local lecher

Mrs. Pelt--wealthy patron; set of nice rooms at the Ritz

Mr. Pelt--her not-so-blind husband

Mama--mama (respiratory infection)

Nic--jealous best friend (she was my girl!)

Luc--ex-partner (these schematics look really familiar)

Louie the Pen--reporter/spy/transvestite/drunk

Stan Baggs--moneyed rat

The best laid plans...

"But who's going to bell the cat?"

Not that they would have got far with even the staunchest hero, for Puss was watchful and informed. The floorboards were ribboned with his termite army--devoted and groomed by milk-fed years. Long-eared crickets were stationed at their doorposts, fiddling with their alarms. And a season ago, the cat, with a canny eye to the future, had captured and tormented the family of one Gouda Silkwhisker. Broken by grief and widowhood, the old mouse was left free to roam, whispering to himself and the walls and to less benign audiences--all unknowing informant. He would have wept at the comparison, and the others would have turned up their noses at the suggestion, but there was no doubt a mole among the mouses.

Right outside of your front door.

Product of abundant porching and scarce imagination.
Safe as houses.

I do, I do, I do, I do, I do--

A Lion once fell in love with a farmer's daughter and proposed marriage. The old man did not know what to say. He did not like to give his daughter to the Lion, yet did not wish to enrage the King of Beasts. At last the father said: "I feel highly honoured by your Majesty's proposal, but you see my daughter is a tender young thing, and I fear that in the vehemence of your affection you might possibly do her some injury. Might I venture to suggest that your Majesty should have your claws removed, and your teeth extracted, then I would gladly consider your proposal again." The Lion was so much in love that he had his claws trimmed and his big teeth taken out. But when he came again, the father simply laughed in his face, and bade him do his worst.
Love can tame the wildest.

Aesop

You are unwise to lower your defenses.

Where did you dig up that old fossil?

Finding some moral parallels between Aesop and Star Wars that I just can't shake. Or is it that Lucas is simply my filter for everything? Either way, a vague collaboration may be just the thing.

Let me get my hat.

For those who haven't caught, and for those who wish to catch again, an encore of Mad Men begins on AMC this Sunday night at 12. Miss it twice, shame on you.

Hot-tempered.

Aesop as promised.

Farmer catches a fox that's been tearing up his crop. Vengefully ties a bundle of flaming sticks to the animal's tail; lets him loose. Fox runs directly back to the vineyards and sets everything afire.

Revenge is a Double-edged Sword. The formal Moral. But I feel something can also be said for a brand in the hand equalling two in the bush.

Out of the Woods

The last Grimm for a while--packing up the HBs and heading to warmer climes. And while I'm still bound to take the long route 'round Olympus, the olive groves of Aesop are looking tempting. And perfect opportunity to rub some yellows together in an attempt at some rank sulfurous pieces.

Tethered.

B&W draft for something still brewing.

Of the Golden Arrows

More Snow White. More botched Snow White, is more like. I was all set to launch into a shaky sermon setting her up as a "modern" day Artemis. Quite a few elements are there. She's got the looks (pale, virginal). She's got the color scheme (red, black, white and their corresponding moon-phases). There's the innocent mother (Leto), the hunt by a jealous step-mother (Hera), the absentee papa (Zeus). She roams the woods, has the adoration of beasts, the god-worship of huntsmen (don't tell me that dude didn't end served up on some cranky bitch's sacrificial plate, or cast to the metaphorical stars), sets up shop in some shady grot. Even her dwarves find themselves appropriate occupations as hoary little handmaidens. *

But it turns out strongwilled, haughty goddess types (even ones that "range...over hills and windy heights, rejoicing in the chase"*) don't play well with the fairy tale format. My tablet wants its heroines shrinking and cowed and it will buckle and warp to get its way. And this little lady, closer to reality, but falling wide of the creative mark*, goes unfinished under the blade.

*Homeric Hymn to Artemis

*I was even going to aim for an Atalanta as Artemis argument and drag in the famous Apple

*Archery-based punning completely intentional