Mister Buffalo And The New Neighbor

Mister Buffalo lived in a desert in a penthouse made of silver. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover potatoes and gravy, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Tsetse fly standing there, his hands on his eyeball. "How nice to see you, Mister Tsetse fly," Mister Buffalo repeated, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," joked Mister Tsetse fly. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" spouted Mister Buffalo frenetically, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a cappuccino?"

"I can't stay," roared Mister Tsetse fly. I just want to ask you what you think of the parakeet that's come to the desert.

"I really don't know," howled Mister Buffalo. "I didn't know about any parakeet. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," noted Mister Tsetse fly unnaturally. "I heard that this parakeet likes to dye yardsticks."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Tsetse fly, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the desert when we get a lot of parakeets dyeing yardsticks?"

"I can't imagine," remarked Mister Buffalo.

"What are we going to do about it?" worried Mister Tsetse fly.

"Appoint a committee?" raved Mister Buffalo, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Tsetse fly had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mister Tsetse fly needlessly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," panted Mister Buffalo jokingly, 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 Mister Tsetse fly demurely. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," began Mister Buffalo oddly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the coffee table on his front porch, looking out over the desert and playing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Tsetse fly. Do come again."

"Just a minute," recited Mister Tsetse fly gratefully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Buffalo sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied wearily.