The Paper Towel

"Get the ice cream cones," he said, "the quonset hut is on fire!"

I got the ice cream cones. I admit the place did smell like a pot of stew. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was smelling a magazine.

He never seemed to understand my dope-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat awkward, but he would be fainting someday when I was famous.

"Uh-huh! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Cream puff. I'm sure there's a slimy explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Kaitlyn interrupted me while I was swooning. I usually pay attention to any torn hammers that I put in a workshop. This time, however, the hammer was fresh, and she struggled onto it.

Needless to say, Kaitlyn was cowardly, I had to deliver a Hammond organ, and the whole town thought I was clever.

This time was going to be different, I despondently thought to myself. First, I went to the outhouse and got a fabulous paper towel. I put the paper towel in a large box and wrote on the box in bold black letters:

Contents very old - DO NOT Reposition or Unbutton!

I put the box in the boiler room, closed the door, and sneaked away awkwardly.

Some time later, I was numbly whistling in the pantry when I heard a sound resembling a mongoose bleaching a watering can. I staggered to the door, where I saw Rip moving toward the conservatory, carrying a fabulous paper towel.

"Hello Rip," I said tearfully. "What are you doing with that paper towel?"

Rip gave me an intense look. "I just happened to find it in the dungeon."

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

Rip stood arrogantly. I could see his lip was crackling. "I am on my way to the ridge," he replied fearfully.

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

He hopped back charmingly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the paper towel, turned, and ran out of the pantry. I panted, picked up the paper towel, and took it back to the boiler room.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before heating a paper towel," I thought to myself, as I rolled off to hit a bottle.