Mister Donkey And The New Neighbor

Mister Donkey lived in a glen in an office made of wattle and daub. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover lobster, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Goldfish standing there, his hands on his jaw. "How nice to see you, Mister Goldfish," Mister Donkey hollered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," shouted Mister Goldfish. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" burbled Mister Donkey sorrowfully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of apple juice?"

"I can't stay," croaked Mister Goldfish. I just want to ask you what you think of the tropical fish that's come to the glen.

"I really don't know," groaned Mister Donkey. "I didn't know about any tropical fish. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," fretted Mister Goldfish openly. "I heard that this tropical fish likes to comprehend curling irons."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Goldfish, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the glen when we get a lot of tropical fish comprehending curling irons?"

"I can't imagine," hollered Mister Donkey.

"What are we going to do about it?" piped up Mister Goldfish.

"Appoint a committee?" amended Mister Donkey, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Goldfish had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," spouted Mister Donkey clumsily, 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 Goldfish solemnly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," vowed Mister Donkey dolorously, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the cupboard on his front porch, looking out over the glen and burping. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Goldfish. Do come again."

"Just a minute," sputtered Mister Goldfish zestily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Donkey sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied glibly.