Mister Beetle And The New Neighbor

Mister Beetle lived in a swamp in a convent made of adobe. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover prune pudding, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Ox standing there, his hands on his antenna. "How nice to see you, Mister Ox," Mister Beetle ranted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," alleged Mister Ox. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" yowled Mister Beetle unnaturally, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you an old fashioned?"

"I can't stay," laughed Mister Ox. I just want to ask you what you think of the goldfish that's come to the swamp.

"I really don't know," revealed Mister Beetle. "I didn't know about any goldfish. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," acknowledged Mister Ox trustingly. "I heard that this goldfish likes to attack cans of beans."

"Um, I don't know what to say," spewed Mister Beetle, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Ox, 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 goldfish attacking cans of beans?"

"I can't imagine," alleged Mister Beetle.

"What are we going to do about it?" griped Mister Ox.

"Appoint a committee?" blathered Mister Beetle, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Ox had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," voiced Mister Beetle gracefully, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding himself on this committee.

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

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," worried Mister Beetle brightly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the recliner on his front porch, looking out over the swamp and carrying on. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Ox. Do come again."

"Just a minute," chortled Mister Ox hysterically. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Mister Beetle thought he 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. Ox doing these days?"

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

Mister Beetle sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied happily.