One pleasant morning in western Massachusetts, a sly fox approached a painted turtle perched by the corner of a square pond. The fox, having aced honors geometry, understood that passing along the pond’s hypotenuse would be far more efficient than trotting around the perimeter. So he devised a plan to cross the pond without getting his fur wet.

The fox, a fan of the theatre, donned a thick Southern accent and trekked towards the amphibian. “Mr. Turtle, I’ve been alerted that two silver carp reside in this pond. Would you be so kind as to take me across the water on your back so I can survey the area?”

The painted turtle did not respond. He was likely confused.

“Mr. Turtle, silver carp are an invasive species in western Massachusetts,” explained the fox. “If the two repopulate, they could very well destroy your entire ecosystem.”

The turtle again refused to acknowledge the fox, who was beginning to grow impatient.

“Mr. Turtle, I am an officer of the law,” said the fox, his voice rising. The fox knew there were repercussions to impersonating a federal officer, but wasn’t too worried. His father was Kosovo’s fox ambassador to the US, blessing him with diplomatic immunity. "I AM COMMANDEERING YOUR SHELL. TAKE ME ACROSS THE POND. NOW.”

Yet the turtle stood silent.

The fox considered eating the turtle, but he had lost his appetite from the whole fiasco. At his wit’s end, the fox gave up and took the long way.

The painted turtle stood silent still, for he was dead. The large influx of silver carp had gobbled up all his water lilies and he had starved. But even in death, the turtle prevailed over the fox.