Mister Wallaby And The New Neighbor

Mister Wallaby lived on a hillside in a mobile home made of stucco. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover roast turkey, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Bullfrog standing there, his hands on his Achilles tendon. "How nice to see you, Mister Bullfrog," Mister Wallaby reacted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," breathed Mister Bullfrog. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" admitted Mister Wallaby humbly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of fruit punch?"

"I can't stay," enunciated Mister Bullfrog. I just want to ask you what you think of the rat that's come to the hillside.

"I really don't know," yammered Mister Wallaby. "I didn't know about any rat. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," pointed out Mister Bullfrog greedily. "I heard that this rat likes to pack bags of potato chips."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Bullfrog, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the hillside when we get a lot of rats packing bags of potato chips?"

"I can't imagine," thought Mister Wallaby.

"What are we going to do about it?" orated Mister Bullfrog.

"Appoint a committee?" inquired Mister Wallaby, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Bullfrog had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," intimated Mister Wallaby woodenly, 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 Mister Bullfrog excitedly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," stated Mister Wallaby dubiously, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the piano on his front porch, looking out over the hillside and hollering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Bullfrog. Do come again."

"Just a minute," blubbered Mister Bullfrog offhandedly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Wallaby sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied blankly.