Miss Mustang And The New Neighbor

Miss Mustang lived in a landfill in a manor made of bubbles. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover burritos, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Goat standing there, his hands on his horn. "How nice to see you, Mister Goat," Miss Mustang asserted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," shouted Mister Goat. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" observed Miss Mustang blissfully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a tequila sunrise?"

"I can't stay," pointed out Mister Goat. I just want to ask you what you think of the porcupine that's come to the landfill.

"I really don't know," noted Miss Mustang. "I didn't know about any porcupine. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," interrupted Mister Goat openly. "I heard that this porcupine likes to inspect notebooks."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Goat, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the landfill when we get a lot of porcupines inspecting notebooks?"

"I can't imagine," demanded Miss Mustang.

"What are we going to do about it?" enunciated Mister Goat.

"Appoint a committee?" fantasized Miss Mustang, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Goat had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," pleaded Miss Mustang curiously, 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 Goat thoughtfully. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," moaned Miss Mustang carelessly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the beanbag chair on her front porch, looking out over the landfill and grimacing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Goat. Do come again."

"Just a minute," intimated Mister Goat sternly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Mustang sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied sagely.