Tic, Tac, and Toe were fighting.
Tac was mad at Tic because Tic called Tac a Thumbtack. Tic was mad at Toe because Toe called him a tick. But Toe called Tic a tick only because Tic called Toe a toe.
So you see they were all very mad at each other. No one could possibly get them to stop; so the fight went on for days. Until one day, “Hey you!!” shouted a moth through the open window, “Knock it off! You’re all fighting brainless cats and rabid dogs!!”, and with that, it flew off as fast as it could go. Perhaps it knew that this was a dangerous thing to say, however necessary.
“Cats and Dogs!”, cried Tac indignantly, “I’ve never been more offended in all my born days!” The others agreed, and the verdict of Unpardonable Insult and Offence was unanimously decided upon. No one was angry at each other any longer, all of their harsh words were now directed at the rashly peacemaking moth.
“Blast that moth!”, said Toe hotly, as though his words could actually be performed.
“Oil and butter ‘im!” shouted Tic with all his might.
“Boil him in a pot of scalding mayonnaise!” thundered Tac.
“Let’s do away with him entirely!” said the three in unison. So off they went in search of the moth.
The three walked on and on for what seemed like miles (it probably wasn’t, they had a very poor conception of distance), until they finally spotted a moth.
“Catch ‘im!” yelled Tic, and they all ran forward, capturing the unfortunate insect in their net.
“We, the three assassins of…of,” Tac paused, thinking, “Ham,” he continued, “shall now proceed to dispatch you brutally, for the insult, and therefor offence, directed at our most high and personage.” With that, he lifted his knife grandly with intent to slay it.
“Wait!” shrieked the poor moth in a shrill voice, “I am not the moth that you are seeking! I am only Little Pricilla, and I’m on my way to a birthday party! I one you are seeking is called Tom, he went that way, please, oh please don’t kill me!” All this she said in one breath, for moths can talk rather fast when they want to.
“O-oh,” said Tac, in a rather bewildered tone, “I-I beg your pardon…I guess,” and they released her. She flew off as fast as her little wings could carry her, and the three friends walked off in the direction she had pointed.
Next they caught a baker moth, then a little boy moth, and then they nearly gave up the search. However, just then a cat walked up to them coolly, with his tale in the air and stepping most daintily and purred, “You are all such all such silly little things! Go simmer down and catch yourselves a few mice. Moths are detestable I assure you!” And then he walked away, just as calmly as he had come.
“Catch mice!!” shouted an enraged Tac, “Who on earth do you think you are?!” Then the three, freshly infuriated friends set off to kill their new victim: The Cat.
After much walking and false captures, they came again upon a cat.
“Catch it!” shouted Tac, like he had so many times before, and as quick as you could say ‘knife’, they had thrown a box over the unfortunate’s head.
“We’re gonna kill you!” shouted Tac, without any of his former formality and reserve. Once again he raised his knife to kill his prey.
“Wait!” cried the cat; it’s eyes as wide as saucers, “I am not the cat that you seek! I’m only Missy Lucy. The cat you want is called Tom; he ran that way!”
So they let her go. What else could they do? After Lucy they caught a Sad Cat, then a Mad Cat (who very nearly put an end to the whole thing by clawing their eyes out), but none of the cats were Tom. Again, they almost gave up, only instead they began fighting about whether or not to give up. They were fighting at the top of their voices (very high and irritating voices they were), and very soon they woke a giant, who had been sleeping in a cave nearby, and was not at all pleased at having been woken.
“Go home you good-for-nothing young vagabonds!” he bellowed above their shouting. That gave them such a fright that they ran all the way home without stopping (though really, they hadn’t gone very far at all). When they got there, they flung open the door and jumped straight into bed, all three of them, and pulled the covers up to their noses. But nonetheless, though his teeth were still chattering in his head, Toe mutter angrily, “’Good for nothing vagabonds!’ I’ve never been so insulted in my life!”
“Not to mention the fact he called us ‘young’!” said Tic, “The idea!”
But they never went back for their revenge. A moth and a cat were one thing; but a giant? Well, in their opinion (and mine too, I might mention) a giant is quite a different thing.