Mr Ferret had a humongous nose. The biggest and fattest nose you’ve ever seen. It was so big, and so heavy, that it sagged down all the way to his feet. He huffed and puffed his way home from work everyday, tip scratching the road as he dragged his nose along. Mr Ferret had two great gifts – he was a a wizard in Microsoft Excel, and a master in the art of complain.
So he grumbled and mumbled, muttering under his breath for almost the entirety of his journey home, eyes never looking up, only darting from one side to the other under his dark cloud. It was his misfortune, he had always thought, to be burdened with such a nose. He was the black ferret of the family, as compared to his pretty nosed siblings. He often wondered why was he this special. This had caused him to be introverted and shy. His insecurities and low self-esteen were like a stink that followed him around all day.
One day, as Mr. Ferret was walking home with the same stink he had carried with him all day, he chanced upon something that he’s never seen before. Something out of this world, something he never though he would ever see. He moved towards it, slowly. It was fragile, and felt so light in his palms. It’s beautiful, he thought. He took it away, wanting it to be his own. He pulled it from its roots, greedy for its possession, and carried it home with the utmost care.
Everyday, without fail, he would gaze at its beauty and spilled his unhappiness unto it. To him, it was alive and loving, and oh, what a great listener it was. With each complain, it would gaze back at him lovingly with its big brown eye. It had a majestic mane, always swaying in the wind, dyed in one of the brightest colours on the spectrum. It brought him happiness, and Mr. Ferret knew that it would be the only thing in the entire world that didn’t mind his humongous nose or his horrendous stink. To it, he was the black ferret no longer. He felt invincible in front of it. As the days passed, Mr Ferret grew deeper and deeper in love.
Then weeks passed, and one day it hit him. He had been so blinded by love that he had failed to notice the obvious. Something horrible was happening – life from his one and only lover seemed to be fading away. Day after day, as he returned home, he would see its mane drenched in more brown, and its beautiful brown eye turning black and downcast. Mr Ferret’s heart sank because he was helpless and didn’t know what to do. What was happening? Was it unhappy that it was living with such a humongous nose? Or that it had to listen to his terrible complains? He tried all ways and means to cheer it up, but it continued on looking worse and worse everyday. It must be me, Mr Ferret thought, it had to be me. He started to smell again. That insecurity, that horrible stink that was gone only for the short period when he found love, started to surface again. As the beauty faded, the beast started to grow back.
Finally, after what was a day to us, but an eternity to Mr Ferret, the beauty died. Mr Ferret came home one day, and found it completely drench in black and brown, splat motionless on the ground. It couldn’t gaze back, it couldn’t listen, and it couldn’t be around for Mr Ferret no more. Mr Ferret sat silently in his home, staring at the blackish brown heap that he loved. It had started to give off a stink. A real smelly stink, an almost unbearable one. But Mr Ferret stayed on beside it, refusing to move. He wanted time to stay still for as long as possible, so he could stay with it forever. He sobbed and poured his unhappiness out to the stinky mess – it was like verbal vomit. His stink intertwined with its stink, and the smell was unbearable for anyone within a radius of 500 meters. A few days (again, an eternity to Mr Ferret) later, Mr Ferret was gone too – He died of a stink and a broken heart…and possibly from dehydration too as he refused to move.
A day later, we see a small child wandering nearby, lost in the garden. He was scared, frustrated, crying, and very lost. He chanced upon a small cave behind the bushes, and out of curiosity and hope he peered in. Something smelled, and he pinched his nose hard. It was an unbearable stink, and it came from the corner of the cave. He looked towards the direction of the horrible smell, and what he found was the tiny and lifeless body of a ferret, lying next to a withered sunflower. He had never seen a sunflower in this garden before, as it did not have any. He kicked the body aside, and the dead rodent flip-flopped to the other corner of the small cave. A familiar voice rang out, and a sense of security and excitement overcame the boy. He grabbed the pile of withered sunflower, and ran out of the cave towards his mother.
The boy had his happy ending – he had found security, and was never lost from that point on. His parents were surprised to find the withered sunflower in their child’s hands, but as most parents do, brushed it away disgustedly and never bothered with its existence. As for Mr Ferret, he laid lifeless and alone in his humble home for a long long time, and had started to bloat. His nose ballooned, his meat became food for the earth, and his bones turned to dust. Finally, he faded away to non-existence, all this time unaware of the sign that stood just outside the rodent cave, saying in English and not in ferret-ese – ‘please do not pick the flora & fauna. Penalty $5,000’
Thank goodness Mr Ferret didn’t get caught.