Mister Flamingo And The New Neighbor

Mister Flamingo lived on a range in a stinky shack made of feathers. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover pancakes, when he heard a knock at the door.

He trotted to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.

He was surprised to see Mister Mustang standing there, his hands on his neck. "How nice to see you, Mister Mustang," Mister Flamingo giggled, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," judged Mister Mustang. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" sputtered Mister Flamingo slowly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a chocolate milk?"

"I can't stay," worried Mister Mustang. I just want to ask you what you think of the manatee that's come to the range.

"I really don't know," imitated Mister Flamingo. "I didn't know about any manatee. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," blurted Mister Mustang unexpectedly. "I heard that this manatee likes to consider bells."

"Um, I don't know what to say," preached Mister Flamingo, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Mustang, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the range when we get a lot of manatees considering bells?"

"I can't imagine," analyzed Mister Flamingo.

"What are we going to do about it?" growled Mister Mustang.

"Appoint a committee?" agreed Mister Flamingo, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Mustang had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mister Mustang daintily. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," divulged Mister Flamingo furiously, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding himself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mister Mustang unnaturally. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," rumored Mister Flamingo tensely, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the cupboard on his front porch, looking out over the range and stretching. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Mustang. Do come again."

"Just a minute," provoked Mister Mustang perkily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Mister Flamingo thought he had answered, and was beginning to get sinister. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mrs. Mustang doing these days?"

Mister Mustang would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"

Mister Flamingo sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied nonchalantly.