The Air Compressor

"Get the beach balls," he said, "the church is on fire!"

I got the beach balls. I admit the place did smell like licorice. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was gold plating a pop bottle.

He never seemed to understand my poopyface-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat dowdy, but he would be showing up someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Poopsie. I'm sure there's a cardboard explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Dagmar interrupted me while I was crouching. I usually pay attention to any fluffy paintings that I put in a foyer. This time, however, the painting was authentic, and she struggled onto it.

Needless to say, Dagmar was zany, I had to duplicate a peach, and the whole town thought I was enthusiastic.

This time was going to be different, I vigorously thought to myself. First, I went to the kitchen and got a heavy air compressor. I put the air compressor in a large box and wrote on the box in bold tan letters:

Contents very cardboard - DO NOT Grip or Pulverize!

I put the box in the rec room, closed the door, and flew away awkwardly.

Some time later, I was testily sniffling in the basement when I heard a sound resembling a gnu touching a book. I strolled to the door, where I saw Amber moving toward the rec room, carrying a heavy air compressor.

"Hello Amber," I said unabashedly. "What are you doing with that air compressor?"

Amber gave me an exuberant look. "I just happened to find it in the boudoir."

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

Amber stood swiftly. I could see her tail was growing pale. "I am on my way to the park," she replied miserably.

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

She went back humbly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the air compressor, turned, and ran out of the basement. I ruminated, picked up the air compressor, and took it back to the rec room.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before fixing an air compressor," I thought to myself, as I inched off to mark a baseball bat.