The Goat That Ate the Mayor's Speech
Mayor Odell Brisk had practiced her speech for a whole week, and it was fourteen pages long, because she wanted to welcome the new bridge to the town of Little Mudge in a truly memorable way. On the morning of the ribbon cutting, she laid the pages on a table behind the stage and went to shake hands with the enormous crowd.
Nobody noticed Biscuit, the mischievous goat who belonged to the bakery next door. Biscuit had slipped his rope again, and since paper smelled a little like toast to him, he wandered over and began to munch. By the time the mayor stepped up to the microphone, the table was bare except for one corner of page one.
"Friends," she began, and then she looked down at her empty hands. The crowd waited patiently while a small boy in the front row giggled. The mayor felt a wave of panic, but something else came out of her mouth. "I had a long speech," she said, "but it seems this bridge has a critic, and he found my words very tasty."
The audience roared with laughter, and Mayor Brisk kept going. She explained that a good bridge, like a good speech, should be short enough to cross before lunch. Then she cut the ribbon, and Biscuit, who had wandered onto the stage, ate that too.
Everyone agreed it was the best speech Little Mudge had ever heard. The following year, the town presented Biscuit with a tiny medal and a bucket of oats, and the mayor never wrote more than one page again.