Mister Rooster And The New Neighbor

Mister Rooster lived in a bog in a farmhouse made of posts and beams. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover macaroni and cheese, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Goblin standing there, her hands on her thyroid gland. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Goblin," Mister Rooster protested, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," wept Mrs. Goblin. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" brought up Mister Rooster daringly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Tom and Jerry?"

"I can't stay," whined Mrs. Goblin. I just want to ask you what you think of the yak that's come to the bog.

"I really don't know," vowed Mister Rooster. "I didn't know about any yak. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," thought Mrs. Goblin temperamentally. "I heard that this yak likes to describe coat hangers."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Goblin, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the bog when we get a lot of yaks describing coat hangers?"

"I can't imagine," stormed Mister Rooster.

"What are we going to do about it?" imitated Mrs. Goblin.

"Appoint a committee?" mused Mister Rooster, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Goblin had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Goblin uselessly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," pronounced Mister Rooster positively, 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. Goblin cautiously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," breathed Mister Rooster greedily, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the rug on his front porch, looking out over the bog and flinching. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Goblin. Do come again."

"Just a minute," asserted Mrs. Goblin tearfully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Rooster sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied queerly.