Pat was a tomcat; he lived on a farm.
In his youth he was the king of the region,
mice he slew a legion,
thus earning his pay.
But such was no longer the way,
for time had passed, and he, old and gray,
had grown lazy, or so I'd say.
He liked to be in the barn, out of the way,
on top of a shelf, he used to lay.
And in the evenings, after the hours of heat,
he went out for a treat.
This majestic cat, moving like a gent
to his saucer of milk he went,
Only to find it empty, just drops were left
who could have done this horrible theft?
Pat was shocked, you'll understand that;
what if it happened to be a rat?
Next day he went to the saucer early on,
confident that he had already won
The milk was there, white and pure,
but touch it he wouldn't, that's for sure
For truth be told,
it was way too cold;
he preferred it slightly old,
but today he expected a guest,
and there it came, down from the west.
Much amazed, saw the cat,
that it WAS a rat,
and strange looking, at that!
Like lightning, Pat leaped, and with a hiss
Only to learn, painfully this:
Sharp indeed were the hedgehog's spikes,
they hurt his paws, like knives.
With a horrible scream Pat ran away
back to his fortress of hay.
What kind of a rat could that be,
whilst his paws he licked.
Whatever it was, its ass would be kicked!
Yet next day he was waiting for his saucer to be filled.
Tense he was, and angry too, for less he would have killed!
Ignoring even his ball of yarn,
he pushed the saucer into the barn.
On top of bales of hay he leaped
from there, the havoc would be reaped.
There he sat, waiting an hour at most
then had a thought, had the rat gotten lost?
Before he got tired, and drank the milk,
he heard a sound, soft as silk.
For out of the fog
in marched, the hedgehog.
As Pat tensed for the leap
started toppling his whole heap
not thinking, in panic and struck by fear
he leaped on a sack of grain, causing it to tear
Down fell, tumbling, the bales of hay
yet keeping the hedgehog out of harm's way
Pat got onto his safe home shelf filled with terror
still not seeing the fullness of his error
an old tractor got loose and rolled to a wall
with a loud bang that could be heard at the town hall
down fell the cat, then the bucket
and then like a speeding rocket
out flew the cat in a flash
into the nearby pond, with a splash.
Still on went the racket with no end in sight
but the hedgehog seemed to get off light
for one reason or another it never heard a sound
when finished with the milk, it just turned around
and walked away, no harm done
towards the edge of the forest, and then, gone.
This was the poem/story in our Assembly 2002 demo, 'fable'.
This one was written way before Lionhead's game of the same name.