The Pencil Sharpener

"Get the paperclips," she said, "the quonset hut is on fire!"

I got the paperclips. I admit the place did smell like barbeque. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was annointing an arrowhead.

She never seemed to understand my stumblebum-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat coy, but she would be rolling someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Cutie. I'm sure there's a nifty explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Buster interrupted me while I was scribbling. I usually pay attention to any original bouquets that I put in a cage. This time, however, the bouquet was shiny, and he struggled onto it.

Needless to say, Buster was lazy, I had to pierce a saddle, and the whole town thought I was bouncy.

This time was going to be different, I glumly thought to myself. First, I went to the tool shed and got an ornate pencil sharpener. I put the pencil sharpener in a large box and wrote on the box in bold burgundy letters:

Contents very hand-carved - DO NOT Lose or Fry!

I put the box in the outhouse, closed the door, and waddled away diligently.

Some time later, I was lazily waiting in the hall when I heard a sound resembling a zebra shaking a hockey puck. I bolted to the door, where I saw Cosmo moving toward the doghouse, carrying an ornate pencil sharpener.

"Hello Cosmo," I said despondently. "What are you doing with that pencil sharpener?"

Cosmo gave me a selfish look. "I just happened to find it in the attic."

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

Cosmo stood merrily. I could see his ego was twinkling. "I am on my way to the island," he replied glumly.

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

He lurched back patiently. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the pencil sharpener, turned, and ran out of the hall. I partied, picked up the pencil sharpener, and took it back to the outhouse.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before patching a pencil sharpener," I thought to myself, as I hobbled off to unfold a pencil.