Our well traveled hero enters a small musty shop on a cobblestone street on a hill overlooking the river in a small town in Northeastern Europe. Immediately his eye is drawn to a peculiar, dusty little brass rat on a shelf in the corner. He summons the wizened little shopkeeper and inquires as to its price. "Ahhhh," the balding, bespectacled old gentleman begins. "The brass rat itself is a mere thirty dollars. But the Legend, the Legend... The Legend will be an additional ten thousand dollars."
Not being superstitious, our hero carefully, so as not to offend the little man, turns down the purchase of the Legend. But he buys the brass rat and the shopkeeper wraps it in brown paper and he steps once again into the sunshine, his new treasure under his arm.
At once our hero feels uneasy. He turns, and is startled to see that he is being pursued by three or four common rats. His pace quickens. A few more steps and a few more rats have joined the little procession. By the end of the block he is at the head of a group of over a hundred rats. Closer now to the river, he is terrified as thousand of rats are close by his heels.
He climbs as high as he can up a lamppost. Now he watches in awe as tens of thousands of rats jump into the river and, to the last one, drown and sink, slowly, out of sight.
Relieved, and alighting back onto the cobblestones, he hurries back up the hill to the little shop. The now familiar bell jingles gaily as he steps through the door. The little old man limps slowly from the back and smiles broadly. "I see, my good sir, that you couldn't resist the lure of the Legend."
"Well, I'm sorry, no,” comes the reply. “I've returned to see if perchance you may be able to sell me a brass lawyer."
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Our well traveled hero enters a small musty shop on a cobblestone street on a hill overlooking the river in a small town in Northeastern Europe. Immediately his eye is drawn to a peculiar, dusty little brass rat on a shelf in the corner. He summons the wizened little shopkeeper and inquires as to its price. "Ahhhh," the balding, bespectacled old gentleman begins. "The brass rat itself is a mere thirty dollars. But the Legend, the Legend... The Legend will be an additional ten thousand dollars."
Not being superstitious, our hero carefully, so as not to offend the little man, turns down the purchase of the Legend. But he buys the brass rat and the shopkeeper wraps it in brown paper and he steps once again into the sunshine, his new treasure under his arm.
At once our hero feels uneasy. He turns, and is startled to see that he is being pursued by three or four common rats. His pace quickens. A few more steps and a few more rats have joined the little procession. By the end of the block he is at the head of a group of over a hundred rats. Closer now to the river, he is terrified as thousand of rats are close by his heels.
He climbs as high as he can up a lamppost. Now he watches in awe as tens of thousands of rats jump into the river and, to the last one, drown and sink, slowly, out of sight.
Relieved, and alighting back onto the cobblestones, he hurries back up the hill to the little shop. The now familiar bell jingles gaily as he steps through the door. The little old man limps slowly from the back and smiles broadly. "I see, my good sir, that you couldn't resist the lure of the Legend."
"Well, I'm sorry, no,” comes the reply. “I've returned to see if perchance you may be able to sell me a brass lawyer."
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