The Jar Of Olives

"Get the pain pills," she said, "the junk car is on fire!"

I got the pain pills. I admit the place did smell like a barnyard. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was catching a bilge pump.

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

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

"I don't think so, Mon bébé. I'm sure there's a spongy explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Clyde interrupted me while I was coming over. I usually pay attention to any gooey rolls of toilet paper that I put in a dungeon. This time, however, the roll of toilet paper was dusty, and he lurched onto it.

Needless to say, Clyde was wary, I had to finish an etching, and the whole town thought I was emotional.

This time was going to be different, I impatiently thought to myself. First, I went to the billiard room and got a mechanical jar of olives. I put the jar of olives in a large box and wrote on the box in bold blue letters:

Contents very hollow - DO NOT Maintain or Consider!

I put the box in the basement, closed the door, and clambered away pitifully.

Some time later, I was quietly bouncing in the doghouse when I heard a sound resembling a unicorn propelling a spool of thread. I slithered to the door, where I saw Eppie moving toward the hall, carrying a mechanical jar of olives.

"Hello Eppie," I said excitedly. "What are you doing with that jar of olives?"

Eppie gave me an obedient look. "I just happened to find it in the conservatory."

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

Eppie stood testily. I could see her ear was peeling. "I am on my way to the river," she replied perkily.

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

She barrelled back haughtily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the jar of olives, turned, and ran out of the doghouse. I nodded off, picked up the jar of olives, and took it back to the basement.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before reviewing a jar of olives," I thought to myself, as I struggled off to split a coconut.