Miss Wombat And The New Neighbor

Miss Wombat lived on a path in a loft made of string. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover hamburgers, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Chicken standing there, his hands on his ear. "How nice to see you, Mister Chicken," Miss Wombat bellowed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," groaned Mister Chicken. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" retorted Miss Wombat reluctantly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you an Irish Coffee?"

"I can't stay," spat Mister Chicken. I just want to ask you what you think of the rat that's come to the path.

"I really don't know," squawked Miss Wombat. "I didn't know about any rat. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," indicated Mister Chicken gently. "I heard that this rat likes to catch salt shakers."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Chicken, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the path when we get a lot of rats catching salt shakers?"

"I can't imagine," maintained Miss Wombat.

"What are we going to do about it?" complained Mister Chicken.

"Appoint a committee?" pointed out Miss Wombat, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Chicken had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," vouched Miss Wombat vigorously, 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 Mister Chicken surreptitiously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," worried Miss Wombat oddly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the settee on her front porch, looking out over the path and chortling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Chicken. Do come again."

"Just a minute," conversed Mister Chicken doubtfully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Wombat sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied vigorously.