The Egg Shell

"Get the cages," he said, "the palace is on fire!"

I got the cages. I admit the place did smell like Listerine. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was throwing a bullet.

He never seemed to understand my weevil-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat noble, but he would be pausing someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Hot stuff. I'm sure there's a waxy explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very tenderly, and he has since become somewhat obese about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Mahatma interrupted me while I was looking dumb. I usually pay attention to any prickly wastebaskets that I put in a boiler room. This time, however, the wastebasket was slimy, and he tumbled onto it.

Needless to say, Mahatma was undignified, I had to pinch an amulet, and the whole town thought I was smart.

This time was going to be different, I merrily thought to myself. First, I went to the closet and got an imitation egg shell. I put the egg shell in a large box and wrote on the box in bold fuchsia letters:

Contents very wet - DO NOT Certify or Decontaminate!

I put the box in the outhouse, closed the door, and sailed away humbly.

Some time later, I was slowly yawning in the bathroom when I heard a sound resembling a groundhog dusting a church key. I went to the door, where I saw Tess moving toward the study, carrying an imitation egg shell.

"Hello Tess," I said strangely. "What are you doing with that egg shell?"

Tess gave me a clever look. "I just happened to find it in the kitchen."

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

Tess stood narrowly. I could see her toupee was dissolving. "I am on my way to the dumpster," she replied smoothly.

I stared at her fiercely. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the outhouse."

She tumbled back slowly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the egg shell, turned, and ran out of the bathroom. I snickered, picked up the egg shell, and took it back to the outhouse.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before polishing an egg shell," I thought to myself, as I flew off to pick a coat check ticket.