Monday, July 1, 2013

Twentieth Century Fox, Nineteenth Century Crow

The semi-hiatus continues … I'll resume posting art from my Snark GN next week … as soon as I finish "vacationing" whilst digging out a septic pit for my mum, fixing the invisible fencing, cleaning the gutters, trimming the goats' hooves and of course, getting a healthy dose of maternal advice on every possible subject. Meanwhile, for the kiddies, here's  …

 The Fox and the Crow 

There was once a Crow who flew to the most fancy restaurant in town and ordered the most expensive dish on the menu. While he was waiting for his food, he saw a badly dressed Fox staring at him from the window.

The Crow told the waiter to invite the poor beast inside. He probably thought that letting the Fox watch him eat his dinner would make the food taste even better — that’s the sort of Crow he was, I’m afraid. 

As soon as the Fox sat down, the Crow began eating his Chicken Marengo, the speciality of the restaurant. “Do you even know what’s in that dish you are eating?” asked the Fox. The Crow did not answer; he kept his beak shut. He did not stop chewing. He suspected a trap. 

“You’re eating a bird,” announced the Fox, “a big, dumb bird just like you. How does that make you feel?” The Crow opened his beak in horror at hearing this and some of his Chicken Marengo fell on the floor. The hungry Fox gobbled it up and ran out the door.

“That ignorant Crow!” said the Fox. “He doesn’t even know that Chicken Marengo is made from marengos, not chickens.” He was so pleased at his own cleverness in getting a free meal that he forgot to look both ways when crossing the street. A farmer on his way to the market with a wagon full of fresh marengos ran over the Fox.

The Crow paid for the Fox’s funeral. He even bought colour-coordinated, monogrammed silk handkerchiefs for all the other foxes to blow their noses with during the funeral. Luckily for the Crow, one fox blew his nose so hard that his brain malfunctioned and he let slip the truth: the Fox had not died in the marengo accident, he had only damaged his tail. He was recovering at home with his mother, who had forbidden him to eat dinner with strange crows ever again. 

Moral: Don’t listen to people who talk with their mouths full unless you want to eat crow afterwards.


  1. Nice!

    Smart crow:

  2. Thanks, Martin. After the apocalypse, the crows are going to make us their flying-monkey-slaves, except we're too stupid to fly and probably too stupid to slave. But they'll think of something to do with us … make us into bird feeders, probably.

    Toujours gai!