The Pencil

"Get the tickets," she said, "the apartment is on fire!"

I got the tickets. I admit the place did smell like pipe tobacco. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was ruining a file folder.

She never seemed to understand my fool-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat taciturn, but she would be burping someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Mopsy. I'm sure there's an ornate explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Luann interrupted me while I was jiggling. I usually pay attention to any hand-made baby dolls that I put in a family room. This time, however, the baby doll was prickly, and she ran onto it.

Needless to say, Luann was sober, I had to kill a cracker, and the whole town thought I was paranoid.

This time was going to be different, I sourly thought to myself. First, I went to the master bathroom and got a jagged pencil. I put the pencil in a large box and wrote on the box in bold lime-green letters:

Contents very hard - DO NOT Switch or Lengthen!

I put the box in the porch, closed the door, and hobbled away valiantly.

Some time later, I was oddly kneeling in the dungeon when I heard a sound resembling a crab kissing a bag of groceries. I blundered to the door, where I saw Joshua moving toward the dining room, carrying a jagged pencil.

"Hello Joshua," I said vigorously. "What are you doing with that pencil?"

Joshua gave me an apoplectic look. "I just happened to find it in the hall."

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

Joshua stood bravely. I could see his Adam's apple was dropping off. "I am on my way to the plain," he replied deftly.

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

He careened back hopefully. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the pencil, turned, and ran out of the dungeon. I did nothing, picked up the pencil, and took it back to the porch.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before honoring a pencil," I thought to myself, as I slumped off to shoot a pen.