A taxidermied ape stares blindly at a room of teacups. The teacups are tink stacked and piled tink and very still tink. 

           A mouse little mouse cannot hide his excitement scuttling through the tens of thousands of porcelain flowers, he holds his little paws up in the air and yells with frenzied rapture, EEEEeeeeeeeeeee!

           The tea-time china towers topsy-turvy and mountainous. It’s what every little mouse dreams about. Weaving playfully through the lips and arms fur rubbing quick and smooth across the cool milky glass, tink, tink, tink, there’s even ones to climb. 

           The stuffed ape stares with huge brown crystal balls at the teacups piled like forgotten loot. And the mouse little mouse gambols through his empire of old-time tableware and thinks, “From all the cupboards in all the world it’s all mine, Mine, MINE!”

           A squeak, a rustle, a fallen whisker, the simian’s never-blinking eyes reflect the white squares of the checkerboard kitchen. Blind, Blind, Blind, is the unheard whisper, Blind, Blind, Blind, is the thought of the non-thinker, Blind, Blind, Blind, is the lie of this simian trickster.