The brave little donkey

Many years ago there was a tiny donkey called Arthur who was always picked on by the other, larger, donkeys in the field.

“Heee-haaaw”, someone’d say.

“Haaaw-haaaaw”, the others would laugh at this witty put down.

They teased him constantly and soon his self-confidence was as low as a slithering, belly to the ground, Bertie. He would mope around the field and while the other donkeys donked around all day long enjoying themselves he would sit in the corner and chew some grass now and again but remain steadfastly miserable.

His only friend was a blackbird whose name is not important but who we’ll call Patrick O’Keefe. Patrick would try and rouse the small donkey from his misery by encouraging him to get out and see more of the world.

“Come on, Arthur. There’s a whole big world out there. I see it from the sky. There’s more to life than this field and you need to get out and experience it.”

Arthur was not for moving though and like a fan of My Chemical Romance he could not see beyond the doom and gloom that eveloped him every single day.

“I am the smallest donkey that has ever donked”, he’d say. “Imagine the grief I’d get out there. At least here I can cope with their jibes. Better the devil you know, Patrick.”

One day though Arthur was thoroughly downhearted after Gilbert, the A-list donkey in the field, not only called called into account his diminutive stature but also suggested that he was useless as he couldn’t do any of the donkey work the rest of them did.

When Patrick O’Keefe landed on the fence beside an even more glum Arthur he pulled no punches.

“Look Arthur, you can sit here and be pathetic for the rest of your life or you can do something about it.”

“I’ll be pathetic for the rest of my life”, he answered.

“No you won’t, you can be better than this”, said Patrick O’Keefe. “You’ll get up and come with me right now. Do it.”

“Where are we going?”, asked Arthur.

“To the big city where you’re going to prove yourself to everyone.”

So the two firm friends set off on their way to the big city, meeting lots of interesting people and having numerous hilarious and exciting adventures on the way. Soon they got there and Arthur went about finding a job. No bar would have him because he was too small to see over the pumps.

He couldn’t get a job at an all-night garage because he wasn’t from eastern Europe and had no intention of stealing from the place for the duration of his shift. He lasted one hour as a waiter before it was clear to everyone that hooves were no match for fingers when it came to holding plates full of food. Everywhere he tried he was rejected because of his height or because he was a donkey.

“Now I feel even worse”, he complained to Patrick one night as they sat on the steps of the town hall drinking a can of cider.

“Don’t worry, something will happen soon. My blackbird senses are tingling.”

“I do hope you’re right because if I have to go back to to the field without achieving anything they’ll never stop slagging me.”

And the next day something did happen. He got a job working for Swatch watches, driving a Smart car around town with big Swatch time-pieces on each side of it. And everything went well for him. He was a careful, conscientious motorist and his bosses were very pleased with him.

One day though something happened. At the top of a very steep hill the brakes on the Smart car failed and it went out of control. He went speeding down the hill going faster and faster. He desperately tried to avoid the pedestrians who were shrieking in terror. He’d bank left, then right, narrowly missing people. Arthur, the smallest donkey in the world, was himself brown-panted with the fear but he fought bravely to prevent loss of life.

Sadly though he couldn’t manage it but fate had smiled on Arthur. At the bottom of the hill was Marcel Marceau who was giving an impromptu public performance but he was being mugged by some vicious muggers who had been terrorising street performers for months. At the last minute Marceau saw what was going on and leapt to safety while the Swatchmobile ploughed into the two ruffians killing them stone dead before coming to a stop against the side of the local newspaper.

At first Arthur was distraught as he wiped the muggers’ brains and eye-goo from the windscreen but soon people crowded around and began to cheer. Street performers could now operate safely in the big city and soon there were all kinds of jesters, human statues and buskers congratulating him. Marcel Marceau broke with tradition and said “Fank you, you brave little donkey.”

Finally Arthur felt good about himself.

“If only there was some way we could show the other donkeys in the field what happened”, he said to Patrick O’Keefe, “because there’s no way they’d believe me if I just told them.”

“Leave it with me”, he said before flying in through the window of the newspaper.

Some days later when Arthur and Patrick returned to the field the other donkeys quickly moved to tease and poke fun at him.

“You can say what you want to me but I know I’m a hero”, said Arthur.

“A likely story”, they said but you should have seen their faces when Arthur handed them a copy of the Big City Tribune. There on the front cover was a picture of Arthur with the headline:

ASS TICH IN TIME SAVES MIME.