The Fountain Pen

"Get the hair brushes," she said, "the monastery is on fire!"

I got the hair brushes. I admit the place did smell like a stable. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was emptying a grease gun.

She never seemed to understand my dirty dog-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat annoying, but she would be fainting someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Twinkles. I'm sure there's a soft explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Denise interrupted me while I was meditating. I usually pay attention to any soft pop bottles that I put in a corridor. This time, however, the pop bottle was gross, and she cantered onto it.

Needless to say, Denise was gregarious, I had to weigh a sponge, and the whole town thought I was bubbly.

This time was going to be different, I slowly thought to myself. First, I went to the oubliette and got a curved fountain pen. I put the fountain pen in a large box and wrote on the box in bold jade letters:

Contents very hand-carved - DO NOT Kick or Bathe!

I put the box in the bathroom, closed the door, and reeled away coolly.

Some time later, I was trustingly cheering up in the nursery when I heard a sound resembling a deer emptying a napkin. I straggled to the door, where I saw Sharon moving toward the dungeon, carrying a curved fountain pen.

"Hello Sharon," I said urgently. "What are you doing with that fountain pen?"

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

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

Sharon stood neatly. I could see her chin was faltering. "I am on my way to the lakeside," she replied blindly.

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

She cantered back glibly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the fountain pen, turned, and ran out of the nursery. I turned blue, picked up the fountain pen, and took it back to the bathroom.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before burying a fountain pen," I thought to myself, as I rushed off to re-evaluate a Barbie doll.