Sniffles the mouse feared little as he walked through this land, for he had evolved a unique defensive ability, the capacity to reach into the mind of an enemy predator, identify the song which they loathed the most, and impose the same overwhelmingly upon their consciousness to a disabling effect.
One day while passing through the forest, Sniffles was approached by Silvio the fox, owner of the Furry Bada Bing Bar and Strip Club where scantily-clad vixens writhed seductively around poles for the entertainment of the patrons. Silvio, a member of La Costa Nostra, barred the path of Sniffles, anticipating an easy meal.
"Now this ain't nothin' personal, " declared Silvio to Sniffles, "but this being the natural order of things and all, I propose to like eat you now, and you really won't feel it much, 'cause I done this kinda thing before, 'ya know?," offered Silvio condescendingly, gesturing with his black-furred paws as he did so.
"Gee, Mr. Fox," responded Sniffles brightly, "I'm afraid I can't allow that!" Having said that, Sniffles reached into the mind of Silvio, nodded knowingly after a moment, and closed his eyes so as to better concentrate and utilize what he had found.
A strange and confused look clouded the countenance of the fox as the song Memories flooded his head, performed at full volume by Barbara Streisand. "Memories/Like the corners of my mind/Misty, water-colored memories/ Of the way we were," sang Streisand passionately. Silvio's paws flew to his head and covered his ears, but he couldn't stop the auditory assault. As the song entered the chorus, Silvio clawed at his head frantically, as if trying to tear the lyrics from it.
"Stop!-In God's name, make it stop!," he cried.-"Alright, however you did that, mouse, just go!-Just take that dreadful song and inane lyrics from my head!," implored Silvio.
Sniffles batted his large eyes endearingly. "Alright, Mr. Fox!," he said cheerfully. "I'm sorry to have had to do that, but you really left me no choice!" Having said that, Sniffles advanced along the path, leaving the fox behind to clutch at his head in search of relief...
..."Blood sucker!," cursed the fox at the departing mouse, retching and nursing the mother of all migraines.
Sniffles continued onward, meeting some time later with a gray and white cat called Paulie. "I'm a cat, you're a mouse, and here your journey ends!," declared Paulie, baring his teeth, and extending a clawed digit at the mouse.
"I don't think so," disagreed Sniffles, extending his counsciousness into the mind of the cat and finding a tidbit of information. At once, Paul Anka's voice filled the cat's head, singing "Having My Baby." The cat looked visibly ill, all confidence driven from his stricken face.
"What...did you do...to me?," howled Paulie, the cat's paws clawing at his head as he staggered and reeled at the horrendous violation to the very core of his being. A push from the tiny paw of the mouse was more than sufficient to topple the cat to the ground, where he writhed in agony.
Sniffles then turns his petite features to you, dear reader, easily batting aside your psychic defenses as he grasps your mind with his intelligence, smiles darkly, and asks "What song do you hate the most, Bucko?-Or have you several?-Let's see, eh?" You can feel the invasive tentacles of the small but powerful mental dominant as he begins to smirk knowingly, and your mind fills with the overpowering strains of the song you abhor the most, one which shall repeat itself until all semblance of sanity is lost...