There once was a clock maker who made some of the most beautiful clocks in the land. To the clock maker, he was just a furre making shoes, but to the townsfolk, he was a genius. This furre created singing shoes, shoes with no tongues, and a huge amount of customized styles. He was such a genius, that even the clock maker's gnomes (that live in the floor) get jealous every time they hear him polish.
The clock maker was a mean old back-stabber to the gnomes, however. He'd treat them like dirt, like scoundrels. When an gnome asked for a small piece of bread (which was 20ft from the floor, on a shelf), the clock maker would exclaim that the gnome should get it himself. Whenever someone wanted something that made the clock maker move, the clock maker would turn to a rage and throw things at the poor gnomes.
One day, while the clock maker was perfecting a boot, a knock came on the door. The clock maker opened the door, as the gnomes peered through the holes in the walls, and saw a man with a scroll. The man said that if the clock maker could make a shoe that was as big as the throne room of the palace (which was about the size of three houses) in 3 weeks, then a righteous reward will be yours. The clock maker, greedily smiled as he quickly ran back to his workshop, and began to carve out of leather, wood, lace, and satin. The gnomes, however, went back to their cave, and protested about the greediness of the clock maker. Then one gnome had an idea.
When the clock maker was asleep, the gnomes crept out of the floor, and ransacked the workshop. They took half of what the clock maker had, and ran back to the holes. The next day, the clock maker went back to work, although he had a slight problem. Every time he made the sole, the ankle was wrong, every time the laces were right, the tongue wasn't. This angered the clock maker as he gave up frustrated. The gnomes, however, had a different strategy. They made individual pieces of the shoe, like a jigsaw puzzle. Each gnome had a piece of a shoe to make, and after it'd be finished, the shoe would be together in pieces, locking in place.
For the rest of the three weeks, the clock maker sat fat-bellied, reading the day's events as the gnomes worked night and day to ensure that they get that prize. Finally, the gnomes were done, and they rested for the rest of the week. Finally, it was time for the clock maker to go to the palace and show his shoe. But this time, the clock maker didn't go, the gnomes did. When they reached the palace, the king wanted an explanation, but the gnomes kept right on putting the pieces together. After a few minutes, the boot was made. It reached the ceiling of the throne room, so the king awarded the gnomes a month's supply of food (which is like a millennium's worth to the gnomes), and gave them bags of gold. As for the clock maker, he was punished for his laziness and his cruelties to the gnomes. The gnomes then lived happily ever after.
Moral: When opportunity knocks, open the door.