Once upon a time, there was a colony of mice who lived in fear of a rapacious owl.  The owl was accustomed to swooping down at any and all hours of the night and seizing citizens of the colony without so much as a "how do you do?"  Or maybe that was a "guess who's coming to dinner?"  Well, it didn't take long before the mice got tired of this.
    "We've got to do something about that owl!" fumed Murray Mouse one day.
    "Sure.  But what can we do?" asked Tillie.  "She's bigger than we are."
    "And stronger!" added Willie.
    Murray thought about that for awhile and said, "I, for one, am not going to sit still and wait to be eaten by that owl.  I have an idea."
    So, Murray started going to the gym, working out, and taking rodent steroids.  Before long, he was the biggest, strongest mouse any owl had ever seen.  But this did not stop the depredations of the owl.  It still swooped down and plucked off mice at will.
    "I'm big and strong, but I still can't fight that owl," complained Murray.
    "She has sharp talons," Tillie reminded him.  "You don't."
    "You have a point," said Murray.
    Murray had plastic surgery to reshape his paws into owl-like talons.  But this did not stop the owl.
    "I don't get it," said Murray.  "I'm big and strong, and I have sharp talons, but the owl still comes and carries off mice."
    "Don't forget that she can fly," said Willie.
    "That's true," admitted Murray.
    Murray decided to learn to fly.  He practised very hard and, against all odds and nature, Murray became what was probably the world's first flying mouse.  But the owl still came and killed mice.
    "What am I doing wrong?" Murray wondered aloud.
    "You're still thinking like a mouse," suggested Tillie.  "You have to be nasty and aggressive and violent, like an owl."
    "That's right," added Willie.  "You have to fight the owl and kill it."
    Murray decided that, once again, his friends were right.  He flew out at night, engaged the owl, and killed it.  The owl was so surprised to see a pumped-up flying mouse, that she didn't really put up much of a fight.
    The mice danced in the streets.
    "Hooray!" they cheered.  "The wicked owl is dead!  The wicked owl is dead!"
    "Uh, wait just a minute," squeaked one little mouse.  "If the owl is dead, what's that?"
    Sure enough, a monstrous winged shadow passed over the dancing assemblage.  The mice cowered in fear.  Then Tillie piped up.
    "Don't worry!" she said.  "That's just Murray.  He's one of us!"
    The mice laughed in relief, just as Murray swooped down and grabbed Tillie in his talons.
    "Murray!" she screamed in shock.  "What are you doing?"
    "You know," said Murray as he gobbled down his erstwhile friend, "from up here, I can see the owl's point of view."