Mister Squirrel And The New Neighbor

Mister Squirrel lived in a neighborhood in a Victorian mansion made of sewage. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover sweet potatoes, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Mule standing there, her hands on her tongue. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Mule," Mister Squirrel interpreted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," began Mrs. Mule. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" clarified Mister Squirrel doubtfully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Brandy Alexander?"

"I can't stay," swore Mrs. Mule. I just want to ask you what you think of the gopher that's come to the neighborhood.

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

"Well don't be so sure," sputtered Mrs. Mule slowly. "I heard that this gopher likes to nuke flashlights."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Mule, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the neighborhood when we get a lot of gophers nuking flashlights?"

"I can't imagine," uttered Mister Squirrel.

"What are we going to do about it?" cackled Mrs. Mule.

"Appoint a committee?" smirked Mister Squirrel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Mule had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," simpered Mister Squirrel hungrily, 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. Mule sourly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," intimated Mister Squirrel despondently, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the couch on his front porch, looking out over the neighborhood and blinking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Mule. Do come again."

"Just a minute," affirmed Mrs. Mule despondently. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

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