Ratty Box from Space

The day the Ratty Box arribed, eberyfing felt a little… intergalactic.

Fish knew right away.

The bag made a fwump on da table, and inside were treasures: crunchy lunar rocks (yummy!), space beds, and—most important—the rocket. Fish climbed in wiffout a second fink, clutching his cheese map and whispering, “Da moon habs cheese.”

WHOOSH.

Up he went. Past the stars. Past the quiet. Past a suspiciously cheddar-shaped constellation.

When Fish landed on the moon, the ground crunched like crackers under his tiny paws. Moon cheese! Or… almost cheese. Close enuff to nibble, but not right. Fish sighed. “I hab standards.”

Thats when he met the alien.

The alien was green and blinking slowly. He pointed at Fish’s cheese stash wiff great respect. Fish pointed back at da moon. Mutual understanding.

They traded. Fish offered him some lunar rocks.

Fish shared a nibble ob real, earthly cheese. The alien shared the secret: the best cheese in the uniberse wasn’t on da moon at all—it was wiff friends, snacks, and a box dat shows up right when you need it.

Fish wabed goodbye, packed up extra cheese crumbs, and blasted home.

Back on Earth, the rocket cooled, the Ratty Box sat open, and Fish curled up happily inside—smelling like space dust and cheese, dreaming ob stars, aliens, and the next delibery.