Mister Sloth And The New Neighbor

Mister Sloth lived on a cliff in a studio made of rubble. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover banana split, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Bullfrog standing there, her hands on her hangnail. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Bullfrog," Mister Sloth chanted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," guessed Mrs. Bullfrog. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" murmured Mister Sloth gleefully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a cup of cocoa?"

"I can't stay," voiced Mrs. Bullfrog. I just want to ask you what you think of the weasel that's come to the cliff.

"I really don't know," jeered Mister Sloth. "I didn't know about any weasel. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," growled Mrs. Bullfrog effortlessly. "I heard that this weasel likes to prohibit boxes of Kleenex."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Bullfrog, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the cliff when we get a lot of weasels prohibiting boxes of Kleenex?"

"I can't imagine," maintained Mister Sloth.

"What are we going to do about it?" croaked Mrs. Bullfrog.

"Appoint a committee?" declared Mister Sloth, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Bullfrog had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," boasted Mister Sloth dubiously, 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. Bullfrog impatiently. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," winked Mister Sloth surreptitiously, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the wooden crate on his front porch, looking out over the cliff and talking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Bullfrog. Do come again."

"Just a minute," sniped Mrs. Bullfrog repeatedly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Sloth sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied blindly.