Mister Warthog And The New Neighbor

Mister Warthog lived in a garden in a junk car made of manure. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cinnamon toast, 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 Mrs. Tapeworm standing there, her hands on her femur. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Tapeworm," Mister Warthog accused, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," crooned Mrs. Tapeworm. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" joked Mister Warthog lazily, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you an Alka-Seltzer?"

"I can't stay," joked Mrs. Tapeworm. I just want to ask you what you think of the nightingale that's come to the garden.

"I really don't know," yelled Mister Warthog. "I didn't know about any nightingale. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," stuttered Mrs. Tapeworm unabashedly. "I heard that this nightingale likes to shake crystal balls."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Tapeworm, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the garden when we get a lot of nightingales shaking crystal balls?"

"I can't imagine," prattled Mister Warthog.

"What are we going to do about it?" pleaded Mrs. Tapeworm.

"Appoint a committee?" jeered Mister Warthog, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Tapeworm had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," revealed Mister Warthog later, 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. Tapeworm patiently. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," smiled Mister Warthog narrowly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the bar stool on his front porch, looking out over the garden and throwing up. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Tapeworm. Do come again."

"Just a minute," implored Mrs. Tapeworm gingerly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Warthog sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied tenderly.