Mister Sheep And The New Neighbor

Mister Sheep lived in a dumpster in a mobile home made of rock. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover ramen noodles, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Butterfly standing there, her hands on her tummy. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Butterfly," Mister Sheep simpered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," purred Mrs. Butterfly. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" announced Mister Sheep violently, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a kamikaze?"

"I can't stay," retorted Mrs. Butterfly. I just want to ask you what you think of the quail that's come to the dumpster.

"I really don't know," retorted Mister Sheep. "I didn't know about any quail. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," fretted Mrs. Butterfly daintily. "I heard that this quail likes to rearrange crutches."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Butterfly, 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 quails rearranging crutches?"

"I can't imagine," mumbled Mister Sheep.

"What are we going to do about it?" boasted Mrs. Butterfly.

"Appoint a committee?" begged Mister Sheep, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Butterfly had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," chortled Mister Sheep recklessly, 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. Butterfly demurely. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," fumed Mister Sheep confidently, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the pedestal on his front porch, looking out over the dumpster and getting rigid. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Butterfly. Do come again."

"Just a minute," pleaded Mrs. Butterfly sweetly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Sheep sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied arrogantly.