A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's

Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a

detailed, life-sized bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so

interesting and unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner what

it costs.

"Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and a thousand

dollars more for the story behind it."

"You can keep the story, old man," he replies, "but I'll take the rat."

The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the store with the bronze

rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two

live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into step behind him.

Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but every

time he passes another sewer drain, more rats come out and follow him.

By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are at his

heels, and people begin to point and shout. He walks even faster, and

soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm from sewers,

basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars.

Rats by the thousands are at his heels, and as he sees the waterfront at

the bottom of the hill, he panics and starts to run for the bridge.

Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a light post, grasping it with

one arm while he hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay with the

other.

Pulling his legs up and clinging to the light post, he watches in

amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater into

the sea, where they drown.

Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop.

"Ah, so you've come back for the rest of the story," says the owner.

"No," says the tourist, "but I was wondering if you have any bronze

lawyers!"