Friday, January 5, 2007

Guttersberg Address


This be from the pantomime. Well, almost. Was scrapped for lack of time and whatnot. Ah so, I reproduce it here for your reading pleasure (humour me.)

Note: I was a rat/mouse in the panto... Speedy Gonzalves, to be precise. Read it and weep.

--Guttersberg address--

Friends, ratmen, countrymice, Lend me your ears and I’ll squeak with fright about the noble ratrace and its sorry plight.

Yesterday, December X 2006, a day which will live in infamy. The Ratpublic of Mehico was suddenly and delibeRATly attacked by the mosquito air forces of Count Parasito.
He has been hunting our ratizens for years now. Luring them with the poisonous fumes of rotting Ratlette cheese, trapping them with his rat-traps and keeping them in cramped, dirty cages… (PETA wherefort art thou?!) Our noble heratage ratduced to mere labrats for experimentation to make his breed of mosquitoes stronger. Mosquitoes!

And they call us dirty. Rats, who are the cleanest animals in the whole animal kingdom. They chase us out of ratserants when all we are looking for is just a little fine cheese and wine. ‘Get out you dirty rat! Rats of admission reserved. Can’t you read?’ Ah! The fall of the noble ratline.
Even as we squeak, another rat bites the dust. In schools, all over the world, they are slicing, dicing, dissecting our fellow ratizens in the name of education. Hey teacher, leave them rats alone! All in all you’re just another face at the ball.

We dare not forget that we are the heirs of that first ratvolution. Let the squeak go forth from this time and place to friend and foe alike, that the cheese has been passed to a new generation of ratizens.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. Let freedom ring from the gallows crowded with caged labrats, let freedom ring from the highest roof riddled with rattraps, let freedom ring from the dark recesses of the refrigerator where the noxious fumes of ratsenberg cheese call us to our doom.

Let us therefore brace ourselves to our ratponsibilities, and so bear ourselves that, if the Ratpublic and its Commonmousewealth last for a thousand years, rats will say ‘This was their finest hour’.

---

And due credit to Tybolt, my sinspiration. Almost.

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