“All right,” said the mouse chairman at the annual mouse meeting. “Thank you all so much for voting in this year’s annual mouse election. It’s always a pleasure for all the mice to come together to make decisions about everyone here in the neighborhood, and I’m always excited to think that the squeaks of our fellow mice will be represented well!” A few cheers went up from the room of assembled mice, each representatives of all the various mousehouses in the neighborhood, all of whom had brought the votes back from their respective habitats. “I hope, too, at the risk of showing some political bias of mine,” continued the chairman, “that we can finally oust that nasty president of ours.” This statement brought some rumbling from the assembled mouse crowd, who clearly didn’t all share his opinion.”
“It’s going to be a good year for voting, I think,” said the mouse with a mustache to the mouse chairman. “Lots of great decisions that the mice have made this year, lots of good thinking on the ballot!”
“We rarely agree,” said the younger mouse, “but on this I think we do. Let’s open up the ballot counts and find out what the selections are, shall we?” He said to the mouse chairman.
“Let’s,” nodded the mouse chairman, and opened up the first set of ballot results.
“On the matter of whether we like cheese or not,” said the mouse chairman, “an overwhelming amount of mice … do!” He yelled, and a cheer arose from most of the room. A few mice turned to glare at the mouse with a little hat on, as he was always the sole holdout in the annual cheese vote.
“Of course I like cheese,” said the mouse with the hat on, “but the ballot doesn’t say what kind! I like cheddar, but I absolutely love camembert,” he cried, and a few mice around him shook their heads in disdain.
“All right,” said the mouse chairman. “The next vote was very hotly contested, if I recall correctly. We had a question of whether we mice should make our holes square or round or not.”
“Square is the obvious choice here,” said the young mouse. “It’s clearly more efficient, and it ensures that all mice can fit through them.”
“Round is how we’ve always done it!” replied the older mouse with a mustache. “Round is definitely the way to go.”
“Well calm down now, gentlemouses,” said the mouse chairman. “As with all major issues among us, the vote will decide.” He opened the ballot and read it with a start. “Well, I’ll be — our mouseholes will be made from now on in the shape of a … square!”
“What?” said the mouse with a mustache incredulously. He stood, shocked for a second, and looked at the younger mouse, who was high fiving some of his fellow voters. “I never!” said the older mouse, who then thought better. Outrages were not tolerated in polite mouse society. “Well fought and well won,” he told the younger mouse, who then nodded with a bow to his fellow leader. “I guess some things do change. I’ll need to make plans to reshape my mouseholes!” the older mouse said.
“I believe so!” said the mouse chairman. “There is some good news for you, however,” he added as he opened the next ballot. “On the issue of mousetraps and whether we should eat out of them, voters said that we should continue not doing so.”
“Ha!” the mouse with a mustache clapped his paws and pointed at the younger mouse while cheering erupted around the room. “See that son? Some things never change!”
“And finally,” said the mouse chairman, “the last and most important vote of this mouse election! Our new president! At least I hope we have a new president, because for the last decade — as long as we’ve been having mouse elections — we’ve had the same president, and I personally have not been too excited with the choice!” He shook his head and shuddered a bit, while the rest of the mice looked around uncomfortably.
“He’s not all bad,” said the mouse with a mustache.
“Let’s just see what the vote says,” said the younger mouse, and the mouse chairman turned to look at both of them for a moment. He then sighed.
“I know we do this as a write-in vote every year,” said the chairman, “and as I said before the election, there are plenty of great candidates, even some in this very room! The mouse who can do math would be a great leader, for example.” The mouse who could do math smiled a bit and looked around sheepishly, then looked down at his feet-paws. “Well, maybe not him,” said the chairman. “But the mouse who has natural leadership talents would be — well, a natural leader!”
“If called upon to lead, I would,” said the mouse with natural leadership talents. “However, I believe in the voice of the mice, and I will follow what they say. I help mousehood as best I can!”
“I know you do,” replied the chairman. “I hope everyone else knows that as well.” He picked up and opened the final ballot results. “According to the mouse vote, the president of all of the mice will be…” He looked at the results, shocked for a moment, and then hung his head in shame.
“The cat. Again,” he said.
The room burst into a rabble of squeaks and cheers. “He’s really very good for us,” said the mouse with a mustache. “He’s been president for as long as I can remember!”
“Me too!” said the younger mouse. “He’s had his problems in the past, but I think he represents a new direction for us!”
“A new direction!?” the chairmouse yelled. “He eats us! He always has and always will!”
“Well, he might not this time,” said the mouse with a hat.
“He definitely will!” yelled the mouse chairman, clearly agitated and frustrated. “Every year, we do these elections, and every year you idiots put that idiot back in charge. He’s not even one of us! He’s never been to a mousehole, has no idea what we need or who we are! For mouse’s sake, he hates cheese! He’s lactose intolerant!
“That’s true, actually,” said the mouse who knew a little something about feline anatomy. “Even though cats like eating milk, they’re actually allergic to it.”
“And he wants you to eat out of mousetraps! That’s what they’re there for!” said the chairman.
“I don’t like that about him, but I voted for him anyway,” said the older mouse.
“And I think that represents a very progressive viewpoint,” said the younger mouse.
“You’re all idiots,” yelled the chairmouse, at this point making a lot of noise. “Every year, you make decisions for yourself, and then you go and elect someone who clearly doesn’t have your best interests in mind! The cat’s rich, he lives on his owner’s food, he sleeps in a silk bed, all he wants to do is eat you all at every chance he gets, and you bunch of idiots keep on putting him in charge!”
“His ads are quite good, though,” said the younger mouse.”
“Oh yes,” said the mouse with a moustache. “I like that one where he meows and plays with a yarn ball.”
“You’re morons!” the chairmouse yelled at the top of his lungs. “This society is going to go to hell because you’re all too concerned with cat videos instead of putting smart people in charge! I mean mice! Smart mice! The next time we have a mouse election, you should put someone who actually agrees with you in charge, instead of always electing that…”
And just then, the mice heard sounds outside the mousehole where they were meeting. Four paws padded the floor outside their hole, and a slight purr arose from the opening behind where the mouse chairman happened to be standing.
“… darn…” the mouse chairman continued his sentence.
“…cat.” he finished, as a paw with pads on it reached into the hole behind him, grabbed him with its claws, and pulled him out in one smooth motion. The mouse chairman was never seen again.
“Good election!” said the mouse with the moustache. “We’ll see all you gentlemice back here again next year then, yes?”
Posted on Wednesday, November 5th, 2014 at 10:11 pm. Filed under general.