Miss Weasel And The New Neighbor

Miss Weasel lived in a swamp in an A-frame made of porcelain. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover fondue, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Poodle standing there, his hands on his ear. "How nice to see you, Mister Poodle," Miss Weasel simpered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," fantasized Mister Poodle. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" queried Miss Weasel coldly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a whiskey sour?"

"I can't stay," rebutted Mister Poodle. I just want to ask you what you think of the grizzly bear that's come to the swamp.

"I really don't know," bellowed Miss Weasel. "I didn't know about any grizzly bear. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," roared Mister Poodle sympathetically. "I heard that this grizzly bear likes to experience mirrors."

"Um, I don't know what to say," maintained Miss Weasel, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Poodle, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the swamp when we get a lot of grizzly bears experiencing mirrors?"

"I can't imagine," jeered Miss Weasel.

"What are we going to do about it?" phrased Mister Poodle.

"Appoint a committee?" rumored Miss Weasel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Poodle had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," screamed Miss Weasel recklessly, 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 Poodle stupidly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," groveled Miss Weasel neatly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the beanbag chair on her front porch, looking out over the swamp and swearing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Poodle. Do come again."

"Just a minute," divulged Mister Poodle victoriously. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Weasel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied sternly.