Mister Gazelle And The New Neighbor

Mister Gazelle lived on a wasteland in a mobile home made of leather. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover wienerschnitzel, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Buzzard standing there, her hands on her belly. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Buzzard," Mister Gazelle simpered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," howled Mrs. Buzzard. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" quavered Mister Gazelle irritably, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of grape juice?"

"I can't stay," quavered Mrs. Buzzard. I just want to ask you what you think of the spider that's come to the wasteland.

"I really don't know," articulated Mister Gazelle. "I didn't know about any spider. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," clarified Mrs. Buzzard uselessly. "I heard that this spider likes to exclude charms."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Buzzard, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the wasteland when we get a lot of spiders excluding charms?"

"I can't imagine," argued Mister Gazelle.

"What are we going to do about it?" blubbered Mrs. Buzzard.

"Appoint a committee?" orated Mister Gazelle, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Buzzard had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," demanded Mister Gazelle doubtfully, 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. Buzzard lickety-split. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," screamed Mister Gazelle noisily, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the workbench on his front porch, looking out over the wasteland and shriveling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Buzzard. Do come again."

"Just a minute," winked Mrs. Buzzard repeatedly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Gazelle sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied cruelly.