sturmbahnfuhrer: (I Love War)
[personal profile] sturmbahnfuhrer
[The call comes early in the morning, around 6:30-7 am when everyone would be having breakfast and getting ready for work and school. Or, uh, should be. Despite how early it is, the Major still sounds as jovial and chipper as always.]

Hello! Good morning! My, quite an exciting last week we had, wasn't it? Certainly, certainly, it reminded me quite a bit of home.

Ah, but that isn't why I'm calling this fine morning! As a public servant, it is my duty to often give messages to the public that might be of interest, and you might expect me to be doing this duty now and then in the next coming months.

But, today, I have a simple message. An educational one, in fact, presented in a way I think might be pleasing to young and old alike.

I call this story "The Fox and the Wolf".

Once upon a time, there was a proud and cunning fox. Now, the fox was well known across the area. Amongst the farmers of the region, his name was cursed for how often he might break into their chicken coops, raising hell and stealing their livelihood. The other animals knew to give him wide berth, born out of distrust and respect, and the fox reveled in it. Indeed, everyone knew how cunning he was, how capable he was. And most importantly, the fox knew as well.

And because he knew, he soon became bored of his current targets, of chasing the chickens in their coops and dashing from the yards when the farmers heard the noise. And certainly, certainly he was too smart for them! No, he needed a greater challenge, he needed new game, and so he treaded into the forest to find game there. And this? This was a place even the farmers feared, for it was the wolf's domain.

The first day, the fox did not understand the rules of the forest. It was new to him, strange in comparison to the farms and fields, and so he went home empty handed. The second day, he came closer, having almost caught one of the wild hares that resided there. And on the third day? He succeeded. He found one of the hares and, following the hare to its warren, quickly dispatched of the entire family and brought it back to his own, reveling in how bright he was, how clever he was.

But he didn't notice that the wolf knew he was there, and was not amused by the intrusion into his territory. And the wolf knew he would have to make an example of the little fox.

The fox did not have to go out again for two days, for he and his family ate well from his last hunt. But he went out on the sixth day and was, alas, unable to catch anything again, having become too used to the last target he was hunting.

When he returned home to his hole, he slipped down it, for the entrance was slick with the blood of his family. There was fur, and bone, and blood sprayed and splattered throughout the hole, and yet none of the corpses of his family could be found.

The fox felt a cold fear, a fear that knew he was being hunted, was in danger, that he had cost the lives of his loved ones. And so, in a fear, the fox ran out of his hole.

And into the jaws of the wolf of the forest.

Tell me, tell me! What lesson do you think we could learn from this story?

[Action: Police Station]

[Hey, you know the new officer? The one a lot of you might know as a complete psycho who wants to spread war?

At the moment he's just happily doing paper work, filing and marking out reports. Bother him?]
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The Major

December 2011

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