Francis the nonconforming Norwegian Lemming...

Once upon a time, there lived a large colony of lemmings. If you know anything about lemmings, you know that they are small furry Norwegian rodents who frequently run enmasse over the edge of cliffs to their collective doom. This may seem like a really dumb idea to us, but to them it is completely logical. All of them that is, except for Francis.

Long ago when Francis was just a little lemming, his mother would tell him of how wonderful that one day Francis could join the rest of the colony and jump off of the nearby cliff. This puzzled Francis who asked his mother, "Mother, doesn't that seem sort of counter productive to be jumping off cliffs, if we as a species are going to grow and become masters of our domain?" "Don't be silly, Francis. We lemmings run off cliffs, and that's what we've always done, and that is what we will always do."

Francis did not do well in school. From the first day of "jump school", Francis was branded a nonconformist. Jump school was of course, a series of higher and higher jumping exercises. First off of a curb, then from a bed, then from the top of a building. These jumps were padded with pillows and such things so no to ruin the "big one".

When Francis asked for an explaination as to why his kind hurled themselves to their demise, his teacher would berate him in front of the other students. "Everyone look at Francis." the teacher announced, "Francis does not want to jump off of a cliff. I therefore am branding him a nonconformist." Don't worry, there was no actual branding, just a sharp pinch on the arm for his display of "naughtyness". Eventually Francis' resolve was crushed, and he gave in to societal pressures.

So one day, not just any day, but "THE DAY", came. Tension and nervous excitement filled the colony. Lunches were packed, and lemmings dressed in their finest furs. The mayor announced to the group that it was time for the big jump, and began to scurry towards the big cliff.

The colony followed, eager to soar through the air. Closer and closer they came, and little Francis' heart pounded in his little furry chest. Closer and closer. He could hear the gleeful yells as the front of the pack began to go over. "Horray's", and "This is better than they said it would be's." resounded through the crowd.

Francis' heart sunk as he saw the edge rushing up at him. Would he jump? WOULD HE JUMP?

HE JUMPED!!!

As Francis fell over the edge, he reached into his fur coat and pulled a string hidden inside. Suddenly a large hang glider emerged from his back. With a large whoosh, Francis was saved and soared off to safety.

Francis never returned to the colony (not that there was much of a colony left). He became very successful and went on to start a line of designer fur lined hang gliders, for nonconformist lemmings such as himself.

The end.