Mister Doberman lived on a moonscape in a box made of mud. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover Froot Loops, when he heard a knock at the door.
He swung to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.
He was surprised to see Mrs. Basset hound standing there, her hands on her gut. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Basset hound," Mister Doberman mentioned, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," shrieked Mrs. Basset hound. "May I come in?"
"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" fumed Mister Doberman fearfully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of orange juice?"
"I can't stay," giggled Mrs. Basset hound. I just want to ask you what you think of the pelican that's come to the moonscape.
"I really don't know," chuckled Mister Doberman. "I didn't know about any pelican. I'm sure he is very nice."
"Well don't be so sure," hollered Mrs. Basset hound confidently. "I heard that this pelican likes to extinguish charts."
"Um, I don't know what to say," drawled Mister Doberman, who really didn't know what to say.
"Well I do," said Mrs. Basset hound, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the moonscape when we get a lot of pelicans extinguishing charts?"
"I can't imagine," declaimed Mister Doberman.
"What are we going to do about it?" interrupted Mrs. Basset hound.
"Appoint a committee?" acknowledged Mister Doberman, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Basset hound had in mind.
"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Basset hound blankly. "A committee to study the problem."
"Well that's a fine idea," guessed Mister Doberman delicately, 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 Mrs. Basset hound truculently. "You always have such good ideas."
"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," guessed Mister Doberman automatically, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the nightstand on his front porch, looking out over the moonscape and playing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Basset hound. Do come again."
"Just a minute," chortled Mrs. Basset hound carelessly. "You didn't answer about the committee."
Mister Doberman thought he had answered, and was beginning to get thoughtful. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Basset hound doing these days?"
Mrs. Basset hound would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"
Mister Doberman sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied unexpectedly.