Miss Banana Slug And The New Neighbor

Miss Banana slug lived on a battlefield in a cardboard box made of sweat and toil. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover mushroom quiche, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Cheetah standing there, his hands on his thyroid gland. "How nice to see you, Mister Cheetah," Miss Banana slug fumed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," professed Mister Cheetah. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" mentioned Miss Banana slug unnaturally, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Jack Daniel's?"

"I can't stay," shrieked Mister Cheetah. I just want to ask you what you think of the ostrich that's come to the battlefield.

"I really don't know," implored Miss Banana slug. "I didn't know about any ostrich. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," giggled Mister Cheetah nervously. "I heard that this ostrich likes to stain pacifiers."

"Um, I don't know what to say," blurted Miss Banana slug, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Cheetah, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the battlefield when we get a lot of ostriches staining pacifiers?"

"I can't imagine," commented Miss Banana slug.

"What are we going to do about it?" inquired Mister Cheetah.

"Appoint a committee?" protested Miss Banana slug, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Cheetah had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," growled Miss Banana slug jokingly, 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 Cheetah confidently. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," chortled Miss Banana slug awkwardly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the ironing board on her front porch, looking out over the battlefield and curtseying. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Cheetah. Do come again."

"Just a minute," rationalized Mister Cheetah violently. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Banana slug sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied delicately.