Of Mice

"Two doctors worked away in a laboratory, bent over instruments and vials, inspecting lab mice as they scurried about.

"Look at him run!" The doctor pointed wildly at his partner and laughed as the laboratory mouse hurried under an alcove in the maze. 'We've got him now!'

The second doctor, an older man in his late seventies, rolled his eyes and sighed. 'It's our job, Copernicus. You know, you should really watch how much fun you have with these exercises.'

'Exercises, huh?' Copernicus laughed. 'Webster, you old geek, why don't you have more fun with it. It's our job!' Webster sighed again and set down his clipboard, rubbing his eyes and trying to recover from his research partner's exuberance.

Webster spoke again, cleaning his glasses and peering over them at the other man. 'The mice represent something, Copernicus. They're alive. Why don't you respect that? Why don't you understand it? This is important work. Try to keep up.'

Copernicus looked shocked for a second, then laughed loudly. 'Whatever you say, old man. Let's just try to keep it interesting!" He straightened his lab coat with a snap and pretended to be busy with his charts.

That day, as every other day, the mice had swept through the maze being offered cheeses, treats, pellets, really anything their hearts would desire. Then, the trap would spring. Right over their head, right through their chest or stomach, the mice died in horrible ways. Copernicus had seemed a little too enthralled by the destruction...

Webster gathered the surviving mice out of the maze and ushered them back into their cage, done for the day. Chattering and squeaking, the mice sniffed around, glad for a reprieve. Webster grabbed his coat and exited the lab with a distant demeanor.

With an evil glance, Copernicus sneered at him and stormed over to the cage."