Miss Bandicoot And The New Neighbor

Miss Bandicoot lived in a neighborhood in a yurt made of leather. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover tuna casserole, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Weasel standing there, his hands on his hoof. "How nice to see you, Mister Weasel," Miss Bandicoot wondered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," continued Mister Weasel. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" demanded Miss Bandicoot offhandedly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a sarsaparilla?"

"I can't stay," imitated Mister Weasel. I just want to ask you what you think of the camel that's come to the neighborhood.

"I really don't know," enunciated Miss Bandicoot. "I didn't know about any camel. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," mouthed Mister Weasel positively. "I heard that this camel likes to poke sticks of gum."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Weasel, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the neighborhood when we get a lot of camels poking sticks of gum?"

"I can't imagine," comforted Miss Bandicoot.

"What are we going to do about it?" prattled Mister Weasel.

"Appoint a committee?" remarked Miss Bandicoot, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Weasel had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," shouted Miss Bandicoot reluctantly, 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 Weasel arrogantly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," growled Miss Bandicoot mysteriously, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the sofa on her front porch, looking out over the neighborhood and showing up. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Weasel. Do come again."

"Just a minute," comforted Mister Weasel ruefully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Bandicoot sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied jokingly.