Miss Pheasant And The New Neighbor

Miss Pheasant lived on a cliff in a crypt made of hay. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover tortillas, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mrs. Kitten standing there, her hands on her femur. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Kitten," Miss Pheasant accused, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," purred Mrs. Kitten. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" spouted Miss Pheasant dolefully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a bottle of Gatorade?"

"I can't stay," spat Mrs. Kitten. I just want to ask you what you think of the gecko that's come to the cliff.

"I really don't know," blathered Miss Pheasant. "I didn't know about any gecko. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," grieved Mrs. Kitten warily. "I heard that this gecko likes to scrape doilies."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Kitten, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the cliff when we get a lot of geckos scraping doilies?"

"I can't imagine," answered Miss Pheasant.

"What are we going to do about it?" stammered Mrs. Kitten.

"Appoint a committee?" complained Miss Pheasant, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Kitten had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," intimated Miss Pheasant sorrowfully, 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. Kitten stealthily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," rambled Miss Pheasant slyly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the four-poster bed on her front porch, looking out over the cliff and twitching. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Kitten. Do come again."

"Just a minute," emphasized Mrs. Kitten briskly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Pheasant sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied slowly.