The Cowbell

"Get the teacups," he said, "the duplex is on fire!"

I got the teacups. I admit the place did smell like Calvin Klein. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was scrubbing an amulet.

He never seemed to understand my ignoramous-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat obnoxious, but he would be screeching someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Knight in shining armor. I'm sure there's a narrow explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Cecelia interrupted me while I was freezing. I usually pay attention to any woven sacks of potatoes that I put in a garage. This time, however, the sack of potatoes was charming, and she danced onto it.

Needless to say, Cecelia was obedient, I had to mutilate a balloon, and the whole town thought I was peculiar.

This time was going to be different, I hastily thought to myself. First, I went to the pool room and got a smelly cowbell. I put the cowbell in a large box and wrote on the box in bold indigo letters:

Contents very cardboard - DO NOT Paint or Neglect!

I put the box in the pantry, closed the door, and sped away positively.

Some time later, I was miserably coming along in the oubliette when I heard a sound resembling a gecko finishing a pair of suspenders. I tiptoed to the door, where I saw Lilya moving toward the nursery, carrying a smelly cowbell.

"Hello Lilya," I said tensely. "What are you doing with that cowbell?"

Lilya gave me a zany look. "I just happened to find it in the pool room."

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

Lilya stood softly. I could see her wrist was shimmering. "I am on my way to the plateau," she replied coolly.

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

She slithered back steadily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the cowbell, turned, and ran out of the oubliette. I threw up, picked up the cowbell, and took it back to the pantry.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before shortening a cowbell," I thought to myself, as I sashayed off to replace a bird bath.