Who saved my cheese?

Seeing as this is to be my first post on Indiblogger and i wish to make my eccentricity well-known, let me tell you a short story, as i usually do when i'm tripping on coffee and it's past 3 in the morning.
Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a brave mouse. He was famous in the entire colony, for he had once stolen an entire family's weekly-worth of cheese in broad daylight and squeaked in defiance at the screaming landlady, before scampering back home. Well now, that wasn't all that brave you say, but mice being mice tend to have low standards for bravery. As his fame grew, so did he, quite literally. All he did was sat and ate his mother complained, in whatever little time she could spare from herding around all his younger siblings. He retorted with short unintelligible grunts and stuffed some more of the kind offerings which seemed to find their way, almost miraculously, to his plate. Then one day, out of the blue, came a squeaky shocker. One of his biggest admirers, came streaking down the drainage bearing news of a new hero to have emerged in the colony. He was nothing more than a mere ordinary mouse under yesterday's moonlight, but today, he had managed to collect cheese to suffice for an entire family for two weeks, squeaked away at the equally squeaky housekeeping lady and managed to poop on the rest of the cheese, before majestically strutting home past the terrified lady. Whether he had managed to get himself stuck in a bottle of wine the previous night, no one knew. But bravery comes in many forms and, as the wise old mouse preached during the sermons, 'When the heavens shower you with cheese, only a rat questions the will of the Lord!'
Now, our original hero, having been used to adulation, felt a little green with envy. As the days passed, his platter seemed to reduce in abundance and it only made him greener. One by one, his admirers began to dwindle and his glorified memories began to fade. This made him the greenest and he could take it no more. He told himself he could do it, he could reclaim the lost glory and swing back to the top of the chain, for he was He. The next morning, off he set scampering, unaware of the fact that mouse-hero number 2 had struck at exactly the same house as he had and that they didn't take too kindly to being insulted twice by mice. He hadn't ventured too far into the house, when he felt a bam! 'Yummy,' thought the newly arrived feline at the household, 'A fat juicy one!" And in two swift strides, he swooped down on the pudgy little fellow and gobbled him up, before strutting off and curling up into a soft ball of fur on the landlady's lap. Thus was saved the cheese.

Moral: Cat good, poop on cheese bad.

p.s. I know i have a twisted sense of humour and pretty poor language skills. But, it is 4 in the morning, for Chrissake! Thank me!