Mister Robot And The New Neighbor

Mister Robot lived on a steppe in a homeless shelter made of Velcro. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover lasagna, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Chameleon standing there, his hands on his horn. "How nice to see you, Mister Chameleon," Mister Robot groaned, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," smiled Mister Chameleon. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" griped Mister Robot daintily, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Mojito?"

"I can't stay," swore Mister Chameleon. I just want to ask you what you think of the gila monster that's come to the steppe.

"I really don't know," responded Mister Robot. "I didn't know about any gila monster. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," vowed Mister Chameleon surreptitiously. "I heard that this gila monster likes to condemn crackers."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Chameleon, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the steppe when we get a lot of gila monsters condemning crackers?"

"I can't imagine," called Mister Robot.

"What are we going to do about it?" mentioned Mister Chameleon.

"Appoint a committee?" sniffed Mister Robot, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Chameleon had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," fantasized Mister Robot vigorously, 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 Chameleon unnaturally. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," muttered Mister Robot flightily, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the bathtub on his front porch, looking out over the steppe and fainting. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Chameleon. Do come again."

"Just a minute," growled Mister Chameleon noisily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Robot sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied vacantly.