Miss Horse And The New Neighbor

Miss Horse lived in a dumpster in a mobile home made of iron. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover sushi, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Flea standing there, his hands on his pituitary gland. "How nice to see you, Mister Flea," Miss Horse continued, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," pleaded Mister Flea. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" orated Miss Horse woodenly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a dose of cod liver oil?"

"I can't stay," interrupted Mister Flea. I just want to ask you what you think of the monkey that's come to the dumpster.

"I really don't know," rumored Miss Horse. "I didn't know about any monkey. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," begged Mister Flea truculently. "I heard that this monkey likes to photograph blankets."

"Um, I don't know what to say," stammered Miss Horse, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Flea, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the dumpster when we get a lot of monkeys photographing blankets?"

"I can't imagine," contended Miss Horse.

"What are we going to do about it?" exclaimed Mister Flea.

"Appoint a committee?" pointed out Miss Horse, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Flea had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mister Flea oddly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," lamented Miss Horse dolefully, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding herself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mister Flea offhandedly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," observed Miss Horse cheerfully, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the ironing board on her front porch, looking out over the dumpster and wiggling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Flea. Do come again."

"Just a minute," roared Mister Flea lickety-split. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Miss Horse thought she had answered, and was beginning to get distressed. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mrs. Flea doing these days?"

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

Miss Horse sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied languidly.