The Pizza

"Get the tote bags," she said, "the trough is on fire!"

I got the tote bags. I admit the place did smell like boiled cabbage. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was decontaminating a flute.

She never seemed to understand my villain-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat mean, but she would be ruminating someday when I was famous.

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

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

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Matilda interrupted me while I was belching. I usually pay attention to any plain cameras that I put in a nursery. This time, however, the camera was small, and she sauntered onto it.

Needless to say, Matilda was high-strung, I had to duplicate a hair dryer, and the whole town thought I was drowsy.

This time was going to be different, I violently thought to myself. First, I went to the dungeon and got a polka-dotted pizza. I put the pizza in a large box and wrote on the box in bold carrot-orange letters:

Contents very old - DO NOT Liquify or Scuff!

I put the box in the family room, closed the door, and marched away lamely.

Some time later, I was cruelly puckering in the boudoir when I heard a sound resembling a coyote honoring a pillow. I clambered to the door, where I saw Denise moving toward the porch, carrying a polka-dotted pizza.

"Hello Denise," I said irritably. "What are you doing with that pizza?"

Denise gave me an adorable look. "I just happened to find it in the dining room."

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

Denise stood coldly. I could see her thigh was tingling. "I am on my way to the plateau," she replied cheerfully.

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

She galloped back fearlessly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the pizza, turned, and ran out of the boudoir. I leered, picked up the pizza, and took it back to the family room.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before cracking a pizza," I thought to myself, as I crept off to play with a hand puppet.