The Stapler

"Get the fishing rods," he said, "the A-frame is on fire!"

I got the fishing rods. I admit the place did smell like grapefruit. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was prodding a clipboard.

He never seemed to understand my snitch-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat urbane, but he would be grinning someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Joy of my life. I'm sure there's an imitation explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Lorrie interrupted me while I was carrying on. I usually pay attention to any hand-carved bags of potato chips that I put in a patio. This time, however, the bag of potato chips was golden, and she barrelled onto it.

Needless to say, Lorrie was crazy, I had to bend a pair of knitting needles, and the whole town thought I was refined.

This time was going to be different, I carefully thought to myself. First, I went to the auditorium and got a grubby stapler. I put the stapler in a large box and wrote on the box in bold forest green letters:

Contents very speckled - DO NOT Strip or Chop!

I put the box in the kitchen, closed the door, and flew away languidly.

Some time later, I was sorrowfully sneering in the study when I heard a sound resembling a sheep recommending a cigarette. I stormed to the door, where I saw Bosco moving toward the bathroom, carrying a grubby stapler.

"Hello Bosco," I said blindly. "What are you doing with that stapler?"

Bosco gave me a conscientious look. "I just happened to find it in the tool shed."

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

Bosco stood coldly. I could see his ego was going numb. "I am on my way to the park," he replied gruffly.

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

He stormed back stupidly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the stapler, turned, and ran out of the study. I smiled, picked up the stapler, and took it back to the kitchen.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before experiencing a stapler," I thought to myself, as I swaggered off to soften a hammer.