Once upon a time in a cozy little farm, there lived a sly Cat and a chatty Cock. They were as different as night and day. The Cat liked to nap all day and roam around all night, while the Cock was awake at the break of dawn, welcoming the morning with his loud, cheerful crows.
One sunny morning, the Cat felt especially hungry. He spotted the Cock strutting around in the farmyard and thought that the bird would make a delicious breakfast. Quietly, he sneaked up to the Cock, leapt, and snatched him.
Before the Cat could have his meal, he decided to ask the Cock a question. "Why do you insist on making such a loud noise when the moon is high and the world is asleep? Your crowing disturbs everyone," he said, trying to sound stern.
The Cock, even though caught, was not scared. He looked the Cat right in the eyes and replied, "I don't crow to disturb, but to help. I wake the farmers early so they can start their work. The early morning is the best time to sow seeds and gather crops, to feed the cows and milk them. I am simply doing my duty."
But the Cat only shook his head and said, "Your answer seems like a poor excuse. You must think I'm gullible to believe that your noise is anything more than a bother. I'm afraid your explanation won't stop you from becoming my breakfast."
And so, despite the Cock's earnest attempt to explain his role, the Cat wouldn't listen. He was too focused on his breakfast to care about anything else.
Once upon a time, in a farm that looked suspiciously like a vacation spot, there was a Cat with the energy of a sloth on vacation, and a Cock who could've been the host of the farm's morning show. Talk about contrasting personalities, am I right?
The Cat, most days, was all about the three R's: Rest, Roaming, and... um, 'Reat' food? Anyway, one day, he woke up thinking, "I fancy a bit of brunch." And when he saw the Cock dancing around like he'd just won a reality show, he thought, "Perfect."
Now, Mr. Cat, being the sly thing he was, tip-toed over, a bit like a ninja if a ninja wore fluffy slippers. In one swift leap, he grabbed the Cock. But, just before dining, his curiosity got the better of him. "Mate," he began, trying to sound all posh and judgy, "why do you have to go all 'rock star' every morning? Some of us are trying to have a lie-in!"
The Cock, clearly used to the limelight, wasn’t a bit fazed. He gave the Cat his best 'talk show guest' look and said, "Look, I'm basically the farm's alarm clock. I'm helping the farmers catch the worm, or the crop... or whatever they're after. I mean, come on, do you know how hard it is to milk cows in the dark?"
The Cat, raising a skeptical eyebrow, responded, "Really? So you're the hero? Because to me, it sounds like you're the DJ at a party no one asked for. Sadly, I’m not buying the whole 'helpful' act. And now, you're on the menu."
And just like that, the Cock's beautiful speech, worthy of a standing ovation, was overshadowed by the Cat's insatiable appetite. Some folks just don't appreciate talent!
Amid a farm, where tales do tick,
Lived a sly Cat, and a Cock so slick.
Different as dusk and dawn’s first light,
One roamed the night, the other hailed sunlight.
While the Cat dreamt, shadows by his side,
The Cock stood tall, with morning pride.
Crowing loud as the sun's first ray,
He'd herald the start of a brand-new day.
But one morn, with hunger in his eyes,
The Cat saw the Cock as a tasty prize.
Tiptoeing close, with a stealthy knack,
He pounced at once, with the Cock in his track!
"Hold on," said the Cat, whiskers all stern,
"I have a question, for which I yearn.
Why do you crow, so loud and clear,
When the world’s asleep, and moonlight's near?"
Brave and bold, the Cock replied,
Looking into the Cat's eyes, he never lied,
"I crow to guide, not to deride,
Farmers to fields, with the morning tide."
But the Cat just sighed, with a smirk so sly,
"Sounds like a tale, oh my, oh my!
Your reasons, dear Cock, just don’t suffice,
You’ll still be my breakfast, oh so nice."
Thus, even as the Cock voiced his song,
The Cat's hunger proved too strong.
Sometimes, explanations don’t always win,
When appetite rules from deep within.
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