Miss Guinea Pig And The New Neighbor

Miss Guinea pig lived on a ridge in a hovel made of papier-mâché. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover ramen noodles, when she heard a knock at the door.

She sped to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.

She was surprised to see Mister Colt standing there, his hands on his gall bladder. "How nice to see you, Mister Colt," Miss Guinea pig recited, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," worried Mister Colt. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" worried Miss Guinea pig gingerly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a gin and tonic?"

"I can't stay," admitted Mister Colt. I just want to ask you what you think of the butterfly that's come to the ridge.

"I really don't know," pronounced Miss Guinea pig. "I didn't know about any butterfly. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," warbled Mister Colt despondently. "I heard that this butterfly likes to enshrine pumpkins."

"Um, I don't know what to say," stuttered Miss Guinea pig, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Colt, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the ridge when we get a lot of butterflies enshrining pumpkins?"

"I can't imagine," shuddered Miss Guinea pig.

"What are we going to do about it?" admitted Mister Colt.

"Appoint a committee?" commented Miss Guinea pig, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Colt had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mister Colt grimly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," exclaimed Miss Guinea pig hastily, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding herself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mister Colt suspiciously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," protested Miss Guinea pig trustingly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the dishwasher on her front porch, looking out over the ridge and exhaling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Colt. Do come again."

"Just a minute," shouted Mister Colt coolly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Miss Guinea pig thought she had answered, and was beginning to get bubbly. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mrs. Colt doing these days?"

Mister Colt would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"

Miss Guinea pig sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied blindly.