Tales of Tails and Trials

On the first day of the Summer Semester of 2017, I walked into my English 203 class with a rat in my purse – well a furry toy equivalent of a mouse, to be exact. In an attempt to make their first session memorable, I asked my students to assume this mouse was a real mouse, with a real active and busy lifestyle. They were then supposed to describe to me, in a short paragraph, who it really was that we were looking at it: What was this mouse’s name? Where did it go? What sorts of things did it like? What did it hate? What did it do to earn a living? To have fun? There were no rules, and as I was soon to discover from my students, no limit to what a mouse can do, apparently – if only we imagine hard enough:

Below are snippets from three especially creative students of mine:

by Anthony Mrad:

This little rat’s name is Bob. He’s one of a kind because of his voice. In fact, he barks every time he’s hungry, happy, or sad. I’m sure you know his friend Ratatouille: they are both great cooks. He’s from Japan and is the 780th child in his family. The most amazing thing about Bob is that even though he is 82 years old, he’s still as active and energetic as his son Juan and they go together to the gym regularly. He’s been cheating on his wife Bella for 12 years but she doesn’t complain because she is so afraid of him barking at her. He also painted his nose red in honor of his childhood hero Rudolf who died several years ago. Bob is just an amazing little cute rat.

by Dimitri Saad:

It was in my darkest hour that Donald showed up at my doorstep. I was frightened seeing him stand there and wiggle his tail for hours nonstop, which he often does when he feels cold. The sombre and dim scene only brightened up his wide scary eyes even more. It turned out that this vigilante mouse had come to seek justice. Laughing ignorantly, I tried to shove him out of my home but this only further triggered his explosive red nose in the process. I then passed out. When I woke up, I realized I was tied to a bed by means of mousetraps. I screamed in agony until Donald flew in using his aerodynamically modified fur, which makes his flight easier and smoother. Nothing made sense. Donald offered me some cat meat, as he was ironically allergic to cheese. The teenager then explained that he was a rat who desired to become a mouse so badly. So, he followed mouse customs, married a female French mouse named Theodora, and even had offspring with her. Despite the expenses of having to buy cat meat instead of cheese, his life was going well, up until his family were killed by rat poison. It was I who murdered his family. I shamefully apologized but he refused to show me any mercy. I begged and pleaded for my life and freedom; however, since he was a former cop, he decided to play judge, jury, and executioner. He took my life without ever looking back. It was then that he became known as the evil rat/mouse-wannabe-human/killer/vigilante: Donald Trump.

by Michael El Moualem:

Meet Tony: 

Unlike his friends, he doesn’t really have much of an appetite, 
he hates cheese too, so he isn’t worried about any traps. 

His nose is red and quite bright 
but unlike Rudolph, no light. 

His friends all have legs but he’s happy with his wheels, 
only rough floors really grind his gears. 

Humans wind him up a lot but he’s ok, 
soon as they put him down he scurries away. 

Straight away he goes, no twisting or turning 
if you see him you’d think that the floor was burning. 

“Gotta go fast or I’ll end up in jail, 
don’t forget to tell them about my crazy tail!”. 

As he runs off his tail writhes and wriggles, 
all he leaves is a fading giggle. 

The beginning of every college semester, 
marks the best time of the year for this beady eyed critter. 

Mrs. Jessy prepares his breakfast in bed, 
always his favorite, chocolate corn bread. 

A few minutes later they hop in the car 
and he’s more than ready for his day as the star. 

Off to AUB, where he’ll meet some new friends, 
he’s more than comfortable in that shiny new Benz. 

As he enters the classroom he’s always frantic and shy, 
everyone’s excited to meet the little guy. 

All these new faces, his little brain took its time, 
just long enough for me to write this silly rhyme.

And now, dear reader, it is *your* turn! What is *your* make-believe mouse like? Is he a coroner, astrophysicist, or botanist? Can he play the flute or do cartwheels? Does he take the flying carpet to work or does he prefer the metro so he can nap while blasting away Freddie Mercury on his headphones on his way to get a massage? Let your imagination scurry along and share your story in the comments below!