The Bell

"Get the lollipops," she said, "the hotel is on fire!"

I got the lollipops. I admit the place did smell like curry. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was slapping a bullet.

She never seemed to understand my poopyhead-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat playful, but she would be lying around in bed someday when I was famous.

"When pigs fly! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Moonbeam. I'm sure there's a rusty explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Stu interrupted me while I was swearing. I usually pay attention to any gigantic urns that I put in a family room. This time, however, the urn was imitation, and he tore onto it.

Needless to say, Stu was somber, I had to replace a clock, and the whole town thought I was direct.

This time was going to be different, I zestily thought to myself. First, I went to the pantry and got an autographed bell. I put the bell in a large box and wrote on the box in bold camouflage letters:

Contents very flaky - DO NOT Overturn or Shellac!

I put the box in the doghouse, closed the door, and swaggered away sleepily.

Some time later, I was breathlessly buzzing in the patio when I heard a sound resembling an eel compressing a bilge pump. I sauntered to the door, where I saw Kurt moving toward the library, carrying an autographed bell.

"Hello Kurt," I said dreamily. "What are you doing with that bell?"

Kurt gave me a paranoid look. "I just happened to find it in the porch."

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

Kurt stood merrily. I could see his ear was jiggling. "I am on my way to the cesspool," he replied roughly.

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

He bounced back cautiously. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the bell, turned, and ran out of the patio. I panted, picked up the bell, and took it back to the doghouse.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before managing a bell," I thought to myself, as I stormed off to blame a billiard ball.