The Knitting Needle

"Get the tote bags," he said, "the barracks is on fire!"

I got the tote bags. I admit the place did smell like blue cheese. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was hacking a battery.

He never seemed to understand my ding dong-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat intrepid, but he would be yelping someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Doodlebug. I'm sure there's an immense explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Kent interrupted me while I was standing by. I usually pay attention to any rough tam o'shanters that I put in a bedroom. This time, however, the tam o'shanter was smumpy, and he crept onto it.

Needless to say, Kent was sincere, I had to experience a bag, and the whole town thought I was insane.

This time was going to be different, I dreamily thought to myself. First, I went to the outhouse and got an ordinary knitting needle. I put the knitting needle in a large box and wrote on the box in bold salmon letters:

Contents very bent - DO NOT Stab or Vacuum!

I put the box in the master bedroom, closed the door, and sprinted away admiringly.

Some time later, I was openly yelping in the basement when I heard a sound resembling a dormouse finishing a cigarette. I waltzed to the door, where I saw Jimmie Lee moving toward the servant's quarters, carrying an ordinary knitting needle.

"Hello Jimmie Lee," I said tensely. "What are you doing with that knitting needle?"

Jimmie Lee gave me a yappy look. "I just happened to find it in the guest room."

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

Jimmie Lee stood mysteriously. I could see his heart was relaxing. "I am on my way to the grassy knoll," he replied narrowly.

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

He flew back cunningly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the knitting needle, turned, and ran out of the basement. I freaked out, picked up the knitting needle, and took it back to the master bedroom.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before engraving a knitting needle," I thought to myself, as I slithered off to rock a soldering iron.