The Gruffalo

“Hello, little mouse,” said the fox with a cunning smile. “Where are you going to, so little and so alone? Why don’t you come to my den? I was just about to have lunch. You could join me.”

But the mouse was not so easily fooled.

“Thank you, Fox, but I must refuse,” said the mouse. “I am on my way to have lunch with a Gruffalo.”

“A Gruffalo?” exclaimed the fox, his bushy tail twitching nervously. “What’s a Gruffalo?”

The mouse smiled slyly and began to describe the terrifying creature he had just invented. “A Gruffalo, you see, has terrible tusks, and terrible claws, and terrible teeth in his terrible jaws.”

The fox looked uneasy, his eyes darting around as if a Gruffalo might jump out at any moment. “Where are you meeting this Gruffalo?” he asked hesitantly.

“Right here, by these rocks,” replied the mouse, motioning to a nearby pile of stones. “And by the way, his favorite food is roasted fox.”

The fox’s face went pale, and without another word, he bolted into the underbrush, disappearing into the shadows of the wood. The mouse smiled to himself, pleased with his cleverness. “Silly old fox,” he thought. “He doesn’t know that there’s no such thing as a Gruffalo!”

The mouse continued his journey through the woods, humming a little tune to himself. As he moved deeper into the forest, he heard another sound. This time, it was the slow, slithering sound of something approaching through the grass.

Out slithered a snake, long and sleek, his tongue flicking in and out as he surveyed the mouse with interest.

“Hello, little mouse,” hissed the snake. “Where are you going to in such a hurry? Why don’t you come to my log pile? I was just about to have a nice little feast.”

The mouse knew better than to trust the snake’s invitation. “Thank you, Snake,” he replied politely. “But I’m afraid I have to decline. I’ve just made arrangements to dine with a Gruffalo.”

“A Gruffalo?” the snake asked, flicking his tongue nervously. “What’s a Gruffalo?”

Again, the mouse spun his tale. “A Gruffalo is a creature with knobbly knees, turned-out toes, and a poisonous wart at the end of his nose.”

The snake blinked, clearly unnerved. “Where are you meeting this Gruffalo?” he asked.

“Right here, by this log pile,” answered the mouse. “And by the way, his favorite food is scrambled snake.”

At this, the snake recoiled in horror, slithering away as quickly as he could into the shadows of the forest. “Silly old snake,” thought the mouse, continuing on his way. “He doesn’t know that there’s no such thing as a Gruffalo!”

The mouse, now thoroughly pleased with his cleverness, walked further and further into the heart of the woods. The trees grew taller and denser, their branches forming a canopy that blocked out much of the sunlight. The air felt cooler, and there was a stillness about the forest that seemed almost magical.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over the mouse, and he looked up to see an owl swooping down from the treetops. The owl landed gracefully on a branch and peered down at the mouse with sharp eyes.

“Hello, little mouse,” said the owl. “What are you doing here in the deep dark wood? Why don’t you come to my treetop? I was just about to have some tea.”

The mouse smiled to himself. “Thank you, Owl,” he said. “But I’ve already made plans. I’m meeting a Gruffalo for tea.”

The owl blinked in surprise. “A Gruffalo? What’s a Gruffalo?”

And once again, the mouse painted the picture of the frightening creature. “Oh, the Gruffalo,” said the mouse casually. “He has orange eyes, a black tongue, and purple prickles all over his back.”

The owl shifted nervously on his branch. “Where are you meeting this Gruffalo?” he asked.

“Right here, by this tree,” the mouse replied. “And by the way, his favorite food is owl ice cream.”

The owl hooted in alarm and quickly took off into the sky, flapping his wings furiously as he disappeared above the treetops. “Silly old owl,” chuckled the mouse, continuing on his way. “He doesn’t know that there’s no such thing as a Gruffalo!”

The mouse had now successfully scared away three predators, and he was feeling quite pleased with himself. But just as he was congratulating himself on his cleverness, he heard a sound that sent a shiver down his spine.

It was a low growl, followed by the heavy thud of footsteps. The ground seemed to shake as something huge approached. The mouse turned around slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and there, standing right in front of him, was the Gruffalo.

And what a Gruffalo it was! Just as the mouse had described—terrible tusks, terrible claws, and terrible teeth in his terrible jaws. He had knobbly knees, turned-out toes, and a poisonous wart at the end of his nose. His eyes were bright orange, his tongue was black, and his back was covered in purple prickles.

The Gruffalo stared down at the tiny mouse, his deep voice rumbling through the forest.

“Oh help!” thought the mouse. “It’s a Gruffalo!”

The Gruffalo bent down to sniff the mouse, his breath hot and foul.

“You’ll do quite nicely for lunch,” he growled.

But the mouse, quick as ever, had a plan.

“You don’t want to eat me,” said the mouse confidently. “I’m the scariest creature in this forest. If you come with me, I’ll prove it to you.”

The Gruffalo, curious and amused, decided to play along. “Very well,” he said. “Lead the way, little mouse.”

The mouse led the Gruffalo back through the woods. As they walked, they soon came across the fox, who had been hiding behind a tree. When the fox saw the Gruffalo, his eyes grew wide with terror, and without a word, he turned and fled deep into the forest.

“See?” said the mouse. “I told you I was the scariest.”

The Gruffalo looked surprised but said nothing.

They continued walking, and soon they encountered the snake, who was sunning himself on a rock. The moment the snake caught sight of the Gruffalo, he slithered away as fast as he could.

“See?” said the mouse again. “Everyone is afraid of me.”

The Gruffalo scratched his head in confusion but followed the mouse onward.

Finally, they reached the owl’s tree. The owl took one look at the Gruffalo and hooted in fright, flying away as quickly as his wings could carry him.

“There,” said the mouse. “Now do you believe me? Everyone in the forest is terrified of me.”

The Gruffalo, now thoroughly confused, looked down at the mouse. “But I’m feeling hungry,” he said. “And after all this walking, I could really use a snack. How about you?”

The mouse looked up at the Gruffalo and smiled.

“No thank you,” said the mouse. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

The Gruffalo blinked, unsure of what had just happened. But something in the mouse’s eyes told him it was best to leave. With a growl of frustration, the Gruffalo turned and stomped off into the woods, disappearing into the shadows.

The mouse watched him go and then smiled to himself. “Silly old Gruffalo,” he thought. “Doesn’t he know? There’s no such thing as a Gruffalo!”

And with that, the mouse continued on his way, back into the deep, dark wood.