Moe Q. Piggowitz, Guinea pig, Esq., awoke on a fine summer morning with a song in his heart. He had been looking forward to this day for months–today was the day he was bringing in the endive crop!

            Moe’s 100-acre lettuce ranch had been in his family for generations, and Moe had worked it his whole life, raising crops of glistening red-leaf; soft, luscious, mounds of butter leaf; gleaming red-veined radicchio; and many other exotic varieties, some of which could be found nowhere else on earth...Yes, Moe’s life was a happy one, and he walked out to the back forty that morning with a light heart.

           But, at the field, his mouth fell open in horror.

           The lettuce–the brilliant golden-green, curly-leafed lettuce–was nibbled! Every head!

            “Lettuce thieves!” Moe gasped in shock. His father had often told him bedtime stories of such creatures, filling the young pig’s heart with terror on many a dreary winter night. Never, never had he dreamed that it would really happen to him, here on his peaceful ranch...

            “Rabbits,” he spat. “Filthy, wretched rabbits, mark my words!”

            And he shrieked, shrieked a terrible cluck of vengeance to the sky that blazed a hard blue overhead.

*             *            *

            Moe found several other fields had been nibbled during the night. He followed the trail of destruction across a few acres, knowing at the end of it he would find the animals responsible for this unthinkable deed.

            At last, at the edge of his land, he made his way through a little copse of trees, and there they were–the fiends–lazing in the sunshine on a creek bank, their tummies full of illicit lettuce.

            The larger one flicked an ear at him as he approached.

            “Yeah? Whad’ya want?” he drawled. As Moe drew closer and the thief got a clearer look at the pig, he seemed momentarily filled with an irrational rage, and snapped at his companion, who was lolling nearby. Confused, the smaller rabbit just continued smiling vaguely up at the sky.

            “You the rotten cottontails who done nibbled my lettuce?” Moe snarled.

            “Ayup, reckon we are,” the vagabond yawned. “Name’s Biggs–Biggs Poofy. This here’s my partner, Aero Poofy–no relation.”

            Moe spat at the shaggy grey rabbit’s feet. “You owe me for that crop you spoiled,” he snapped. “How you aim to pay me back?”

            Biggs laughed harshly. “Pay you back? Don’t see why I should pay nothin’ to no cavy"-- Moe flinched at the horrid oath-- "lettuce farmer.” He leaned back and shut his eyes again.

            His partner, Aero, giggled. Moe wondered if he was simple-minded.

            Biggs opened his eyes wide and rose heavily to his feet.

            “Is that a threat?” he asked softly.

            “It might be!” Moe stepped up and faced the big rabbit squarely. “I don’t want trouble, but I won’t stand for lettuce thieving!”

            The two stared at each other for a few long moments. At last, the rabbit looked away with a soft laugh. “Let me know when you’re gonna do somethin’ about it,” he said, and lay back down on the grassy bank.

            Moe was speechless. What could he do about it? He’d never had to face anything like this before, no one in his family had. How could he drive these two away, all alone? How could he protect 100 acres of innocent lettuces all on his own?

            Finally, he turned away and slowly made his way down the hill. Behind him, the Poofy boys laughed.

*             *             *

               Back at home, Moe hitched up the duck team and headed out, bound for the capital city. It was a day’s long drive away, but he had to seek assistance from the king and queen; they would want to be notified of this terrible scourge that had come to their quiet kingdom.

            Moe made his way through the gates and drove along the wide boulevard that led though the city’s beautiful catnip gardens to the palace. The king and queen were granting audiences to their subjects when he arrived, and he was soon led into the throne room. Inside, the king and queen sat, splendid and terrible, surrounded by jewels and tapestries and richly-appointed scratching posts.

            “Your Majesties, I have news, dreadful news,” he began. The queen glanced up from her washing; the king fixed him with a hypnotic stare, but did not rise from the pool of sunlight he reclined in.

            Hesitantly, Moe went on. “It’s my lettuce crops, your Majesties. There are lettuce thieves in the kingdom, a lawless duo preying on our most vulnerable crops! Rabbits, sire, rabbits I tell you!”

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