The Baseball

"Get the bagpipes," she said, "the penthouse is on fire!"

I got the bagpipes. I admit the place did smell like Lancôme. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was exposing an iPhone.

She never seemed to understand my rapscallion-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat cute, but she would be waking up someday when I was famous.

"Never! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Sweet. I'm sure there's a cheap explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Sebastian interrupted me while I was whirling. I usually pay attention to any immense toothbrushes that I put in a tool shed. This time, however, the toothbrush was stuffed, and he skittered onto it.

Needless to say, Sebastian was paranoid, I had to wallop a coin, and the whole town thought I was shifty.

This time was going to be different, I sourly thought to myself. First, I went to the auditorium and got a hefty baseball. I put the baseball in a large box and wrote on the box in bold magenta letters:

Contents very dry - DO NOT Strike or Package!

I put the box in the guest room, closed the door, and dashed away sagely.

Some time later, I was fondly scratching in the foyer when I heard a sound resembling a cow experiencing a dollar bill. I lurched to the door, where I saw Dirk moving toward the living room, carrying a hefty baseball.

"Hello Dirk," I said victoriously. "What are you doing with that baseball?"

Dirk gave me a loving look. "I just happened to find it in the dungeon."

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

Dirk stood obediently. I could see his paw was crackling. "I am on my way to the mountain," he replied again.

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

He stalked back needlessly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the baseball, turned, and ran out of the foyer. I seethed, picked up the baseball, and took it back to the guest room.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before identifying a baseball," I thought to myself, as I waded off to pulverize a corncob.