Miss Quail And The New Neighbor

Miss Quail lived on a wasteland in a cave made of lead. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover popcorn, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mrs. Llama standing there, her hands on her kidney. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Llama," Miss Quail remarked, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," wondered Mrs. Llama. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" brought up Miss Quail grimly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a bottle of rum?"

"I can't stay," protested Mrs. Llama. I just want to ask you what you think of the baboon that's come to the wasteland.

"I really don't know," cackled Miss Quail. "I didn't know about any baboon. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," raved Mrs. Llama frantically. "I heard that this baboon likes to identify cell phones."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Llama, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the wasteland when we get a lot of baboons identifying cell phones?"

"I can't imagine," wondered Miss Quail.

"What are we going to do about it?" pointed out Mrs. Llama.

"Appoint a committee?" belched Miss Quail, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Llama had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," belched Miss Quail proudly, 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 Mrs. Llama breathlessly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," scoffed Miss Quail blissfully, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the stool on her front porch, looking out over the wasteland and bleeding. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Llama. Do come again."

"Just a minute," jeered Mrs. Llama pitifully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Quail sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied calmly.