Once upon a time...
On a deserted island, a small crab inched its way precariously across the sand as turquoise waves washed lazily onto shore. White clouds billowed high above in the deep blue sky as the southern Sun slowly dried the crab’s shell. And though gulls cawed at the creeping lunch, he marched on. The job required nothing less.
For under a certain rock, lay a torn piece of cloth ribbon. How this piece of human civilization had come to the island is unknown and unnecessary for our story. The dire truth for our crab, was that he needed his piece of ribbon now, damn the sun and damn the seagulls. The crab could not wait for high tide.
He had less them a meter to go when the birds attacked. Twenty white, winged creatures swooping in from all angles. But such are the blinders of greed, that the chaos of the potential feeding frenzy was the last line of defense for our crab. He dodged, he sidestepped, he dosy-doed, and with will timed pinches he played the birds against each other until he slipped into the shadows of his destination and the protection it offered.
A moment later, he was in the cave, the ribbon in his claw, moving the pebbles to open his tunnel, and with a short fall, dropping into the cool ocean water below the rock outcropping. His prized possession was on its way to its new owner, and with that dowry and new world for our crustacean.