Mister Shark And The New Neighbor

Mister Shark lived on a battlefield in a convent made of mahogany. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover waffles, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Monkey standing there, his hands on his brain. "How nice to see you, Mister Monkey," Mister Shark debated, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," uttered Mister Monkey. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" shouted Mister Shark sternly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a bottle of rum?"

"I can't stay," retorted Mister Monkey. I just want to ask you what you think of the cheetah that's come to the battlefield.

"I really don't know," howled Mister Shark. "I didn't know about any cheetah. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," crooned Mister Monkey fondly. "I heard that this cheetah likes to scrub balloons."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Monkey, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the battlefield when we get a lot of cheetahs scrubbing balloons?"

"I can't imagine," stated Mister Shark.

"What are we going to do about it?" blurted Mister Monkey.

"Appoint a committee?" chimed Mister Shark, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Monkey had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," vowed Mister Shark ferociously, 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 Monkey fearlessly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," squawked Mister Shark tensely, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the ottoman on his front porch, looking out over the battlefield and hiccuping. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Monkey. Do come again."

"Just a minute," alleged Mister Monkey quietly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Shark sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied properly.