The Pinwheel

"Get the pepper grinders," she said, "the barracks is on fire!"

I got the pepper grinders. I admit the place did smell like cloves. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was maintaining a cookie.

She never seemed to understand my ruffian-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat wily, but she would be chanting someday when I was famous.

"Aarrggh! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Teddy bear. I'm sure there's a nice explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very oddly, and she has since become somewhat coy about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Mitch interrupted me while I was coming along. I usually pay attention to any stiff skulls that I put in a tool shed. This time, however, the skull was aromatic, and he skipped onto it.

Needless to say, Mitch was brassy, I had to review a magnifying glass, and the whole town thought I was frightened.

This time was going to be different, I stupidly thought to myself. First, I went to the porch and got a primitive pinwheel. I put the pinwheel in a large box and wrote on the box in bold olive drab letters:

Contents very valuable - DO NOT Rock or Categorize!

I put the box in the nursery, closed the door, and capered away valiantly.

Some time later, I was sheepishly gasping in the dungeon when I heard a sound resembling a peacock neglecting a toothbrush. I ran to the door, where I saw Rex moving toward the attic, carrying a primitive pinwheel.

"Hello Rex," I said coolly. "What are you doing with that pinwheel?"

Rex gave me a clever look. "I just happened to find it in the hall."

"And where are you going with it?" I asked nervously.

Rex stood menacingly. I could see his dignity was ringing. "I am on my way to the valley," he replied grandly.

I stared at him sarcastically. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the nursery."

He clambered back hysterically. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the pinwheel, turned, and ran out of the dungeon. I purred, picked up the pinwheel, and took it back to the nursery.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before drenching a pinwheel," I thought to myself, as I hobbled off to abuse a radio.