[Bumper]

A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco’s Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a finely 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 proprietor, “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 completed, the tourist leaves the shop with the bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer grate 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 full tilt. No matter how fast he runs, the rats manage to keep pace, squealing hideously, now not in their thousands, but millions. By the time he comes rushing up to the water’s edge, a throng of rats twelve city blocks long is behind him. Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a light post, grasping it with one arm. As he clings there, he hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay with all his strength. Pulling his legs up as he hangs from the lamp 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 shop owner.

“No,” says the tourist, “I was wondering if you have a bronze presidential candidate?”