Creative Story: If At First You Dont Succeed

Creative Story: If At First You Dont Succeed
"Eureka!" Sam excitedly exclaimed. "I've done it! I'm set for life and
my happiness is assured. With this new invention I'll be honored for my
brilliance, and I might even win the nobel prize!" he chirped ecstatically.
Sam was a chicken, the great great great grandson of the Not-So-Great
Chixken Little, who, in case the reader is ignorant, was the chick who thought
the sky was falling and got everyone eaten by a crafty old fox [SIC]. Sam was a
well built chicken, quite muscular in fact, and extremely inventive, but,
unfortunately, he had no brains when it came to reality. His motto was: " If at
first you don't succeed, try, try again," and he would never give up even if
there was no way he could win. To this very day he still has an annual football
game against a childhood friend, Bono, who is a prize winning, full grown bull.
(In case the reader hasn't discovered it, after every game, Sam has a visit to
the hospital where he is an infamous character, continually joked about by the
nurses and doctors who work there.)

"You may see Mr. Monty now, sir," the secretary informed Sam.
He nervously eyed the door in front of him. The big, bold lettering


Doubts about his ability to make a good impression entered his mind,
but Sam immediatly gathered himself together, glanced back at the sheep
secretary, and entered the room. THe stately pig sat behind a magnificently
carved oak desk in the most luxurious office Sam had ever seen.
A plush oriental rug covered the floor from wall to wall, and paintings,
pictures, and diplomas adorned the brightly colored walls. Extremely expensive
ornaments were conspicuously displayed, spreading a DO-Not-Touch atmosphere
around the room. But the room was nothing compared to the pig
lounged in the sleek, black, leather chair. He was not fat, he was immense, he
had one of those stomachs that literally hung over his waistband. His four chins
wiggled like Jell-O as he turned his chubby head to face Sam.
"Yeees," Mr. JP Monty stated suggestively.
" Sir, this is your lucky day! I am the esteemed architect of the
greatest invention of all time, and I have picked you, to invest in it. This
will certainly earn you enormous profits ince the public gets ahold of my
wonderful creation. What do you say sir? Are you with me or not? I know that if
you decide to endorse my idea, then you will be greatly rewarded in the future,
" Sam stopped, out of breath as he waited for an answer.
" Well it might be helpful to know what I've invested in before I risk
unknown numbers of bushals of grain to produce the afore-mentioned product."
" Oh it will definitly be worth it Mr. Monty, sir, it will, it will, it
will!" Sam quickly and enthusiastically informed the famous business man before
him. A silence that seemed to last forever to the amateur inventor enveloped the
"Well, what is it young man?" JP inquired impatiently.
" What is what?" Sam asked.
" Your supposedly great invention." The pig shot back, obviously
"Oh, yessir, I'm sorry sir," stuttered Sam," I'll tell you now sir. It
is artificially flavored grass... you know, for cattle."
" Artificially flavored GRASS!?!?"
"Yessir. It comes in cherry, lime, apple, chocolate, and rasberry. It's
actually quite tasty. Even I, enjoy the vast array of flavors. Also, there is no
end to the possibility of expansion of the product. We could always produce low-
fat, more fiber, and more flavors. Isn't it an incredible idea sir? I have some
here if..." Sam's voice trailed off, and his face fell as he peered at Mr. Monty.
" Are you all right sir?" The pig sat absolutely still and silent, as if in
serious shock. "Sir, is my idea bad?"
Mr. Monty's expression suddenly changed to an animated happiness Sam
had never seen before. " No, no my boy! It's a stupendous idea!" He pressed a
button on his desk. " Miss Steward, notify my managers immediatly. I want them
here precisly when the first star appears in the sky, not a moment later or they
know the consequences.
Type it up and relay the information instantly. Go!" His hoof left the button
and he turned to Sam again. "My boy, you've got yourself one enthusiastic
endorser. By the way, what is your name boy?"
"Little, sir, Sam Little."
Sam leaned against the chair's back, in his office and sighed. It had
been one of the most tiresome and busy months of his life. Everyone wanted
artificial grass. It was a fad among the calves. The adults enjoyed it too.
Orders poured in like rain during a monsson, and his new company, Arto-Grass was
thriving. But Sam was not happy. He had thought the bushals of grain would be
enough to satisfy him, but he didn't want to deal with the responsibility of
owning a company.
"I'm too young to be stuck in an office already." He said to himself.
"You are precisely right, Mr. Little, Preeecisely right." A low smooth
voice agreed.
" Who are you?" Sam curiously inquired of the fox that stood before him.

" My name is E.Q. Exon Esq., but my friends call me Esquire. I will
consider you a friend , so please, call me Esquire." The fox turned his head
slightly to the right and seemed to be studying Sam for his reaction to the
""Okay, Esquire. What did you come to see me for?" Sam's curiosity
about the walking mystery before him was aroused, and he wanted to know as much
as possible about the only interesting thing that had happened to him all month.

" Since you are my friend, Mr. Little, I came to warn you. I have heard,
from sources that I'm afraid are not at my disposal to reveal, so don't ask,
that your company is going to suddenly turn around and go down the tube.
Once the new idea has soaked in., the cattle are going to lose interest, and are
already losing interest in Arto-Grass. Again, since I am your friend, I decided
to buy the company for four bushals of grain, a bargain for a company that is
about to go bankrupt. I'll give youu until this time tomorrow to decide. I warn
you- this company is not worth one bushal, let alone four. I'm only offering
that much because you are my friend. Goodbye." Esquire turned away and slowly
and deliberately left the room.
" Esquire, wait!" Sam declared. " I don't want to lose everything I
have earned. Please take my business. I'll sign it over to you right now if you
want?" Sam took out a piece of paper and quickly scribbled something down and
signed it. " Here Esquire, sign this too and we've got a deal."
The fox took the paper and signed it. A malicious grin flashed across
his face and Sam cowered beneath his stare. " YOu fool," laughed the fox, " You
imbecile! Now I own the fastest growing company known to all of Animalkingdom.
Now get out of here before I eat you for dinner !
Sam ran, half-flying, from the room with terror. Mr. E.Q. Exon EsQ's
thundering laughter pursued him to the street. Tears pured down Sam's face as he
realized what he had done.
A few weeks later, Sam smiled. He had it this time. Baths for cats.
Just what society would want. He would rise in fame , once again. Ha, ha!
Nothing could stop Sam! After all, "If at first you fon't succeed..."

Moral of the story: " If at first you don't succeed... " can be carried
too far.

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