Mister Bumblebee And The New Neighbor

Mister Bumblebee lived in a hayfield in a chapel made of snow. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover lobster bisque, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Zebra standing there, her hands on her eyebrow. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Zebra," Mister Bumblebee hollered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," blubbered Mrs. Zebra. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" yelled Mister Bumblebee coldly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Manhattan?"

"I can't stay," judged Mrs. Zebra. I just want to ask you what you think of the Guinea pig that's come to the hayfield.

"I really don't know," ranted Mister Bumblebee. "I didn't know about any Guinea pig. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," conversed Mrs. Zebra gently. "I heard that this Guinea pig likes to stash cigarettes."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Zebra, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the hayfield when we get a lot of Guinea pigs stashing cigarettes?"

"I can't imagine," muttered Mister Bumblebee.

"What are we going to do about it?" recited Mrs. Zebra.

"Appoint a committee?" screamed Mister Bumblebee, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Zebra had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," reasoned Mister Bumblebee briskly, 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. Zebra sourly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," reasoned Mister Bumblebee cheerfully, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the carpet on his front porch, looking out over the hayfield and getting angry. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Zebra. Do come again."

"Just a minute," croaked Mrs. Zebra confidently. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Bumblebee sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied frenetically.