Mister Cockatiel And The New Neighbor

Mister Cockatiel lived in a housing development in a nunnery made of balsa. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover chicken pot pie, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Pig standing there, her hands on her jaw. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Pig," Mister Cockatiel tittered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," vowed Mrs. Pig. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" agreed Mister Cockatiel bravely, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Dr. Pepper?"

"I can't stay," groaned Mrs. Pig. I just want to ask you what you think of the bison that's come to the housing development.

"I really don't know," quoted Mister Cockatiel. "I didn't know about any bison. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," mentioned Mrs. Pig daringly. "I heard that this bison likes to fabricate cans of shaving cream."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Pig, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the housing development when we get a lot of bison fabricating cans of shaving cream?"

"I can't imagine," invited Mister Cockatiel.

"What are we going to do about it?" rationalized Mrs. Pig.

"Appoint a committee?" panted Mister Cockatiel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Pig had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," began Mister Cockatiel sourly, 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. Pig sourly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," cackled Mister Cockatiel crossly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the rug on his front porch, looking out over the housing development and turning blue. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Pig. Do come again."

"Just a minute," quavered Mrs. Pig boldly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Cockatiel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied dubiously.