A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's
Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a
detailed, life-sized bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so
interesting and unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner
what it costs.
"Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and a
thousand dollars more for the story behind it."
"You can keep the story, old man," he replies, "but I'll take
the rat."
The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the store with the
bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of
the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into
step behind him. Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins
to walk faster, but every time he passes another sewer drain, more
rats come out and follow him.
By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are
at his heels, and people begin to point and shout. He walks even
faster, and soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm
from sewers, basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars.
Rats by the thousands are at his heels, and as he sees the
waterfront at the bottom of the hill, he panics and starts
to run for the bridge.
Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a light post, grasping it
with one arm while he hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay
with the other, as far as he can heave it.
Pulling his legs up and clinging to the light post, he watches in
amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater
into the sea, where they drown.
Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop.
"Ah, so you've come back for the rest of the story," says the
owner.
"No," says the tourist, "but I was wondering if you have any
bronze lawyers!"
