This one is dedicated to Martin Gibson...

A bluegrass player wandered through Chinatown, and was drawn into a small, dusty curio shop. A bell tinkled as the door opened and he nodded to the aged proprietor and browsed. In his search, he came across a porcelain statue of a large rat, which intrigued and amused him enough for him to wish to purchase it. He carefully took it to the counter and placed it down. The old proprietor spoke. "The rat is ten dollars to purchase. But there is a story that goes with it; a most intriguing story..."

The man cut him off. "I've no time right now. Please just put it in a bag, and I can be on my way."

"But you must know..." the owner started.

The man cut him off again. "I'm in something of a hurry. If I want the story, I'll come back."

The elderly man nodded, "You'll be back for the story." He placed the rat in a bag and wished him good bye as he left.

As the man continued on his way, he noticed a large number of rats; peeking from rubbish bins, nosing from doorways, scampering across his path. He mentally shrugged - any largish city has it's fair share of rats. He walked along further, looking around him every now and then, noticing more rats, some of which even began to follow him. He picked up his pace, and more rats joined the fray. The man began to jog as more and more of the furry vermin joined the group. Beginning to panic, he started to run. Thousands of rats were now chasing the running man through the city. He had a sudden idea and ran toward the bay that bounded the city, more vermin joining with each step. As he skidded to a halt at the pier, he hurled the rat figure as far as he could manage out into the bay. He stood and watched in disbelief as the many thousands of rats hurled themselves into the bay after the figure and drowned. The man turned and ran as fast as he possibly could away from there. There was only one place to go.

The bell above the door tinkled as the man staggered back into the curio shop, panting heavily.

"Ah," said the aged proprietor. "I knew you would be back for the story..."

"No," panted the man. "Bugger the story. I want to know if you have and statues of folk singers."