Mister Lobster And The New Neighbor

Mister Lobster lived in a hayfield in a log cabin made of beeswax. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover falafel, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Anteater standing there, his hands on his piehole. "How nice to see you, Mister Anteater," Mister Lobster invited, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," bellowed Mister Anteater. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" burbled Mister Lobster quietly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a grape soda?"

"I can't stay," whimpered Mister Anteater. I just want to ask you what you think of the tarantula that's come to the hayfield.

"I really don't know," yelped Mister Lobster. "I didn't know about any tarantula. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," boomed Mister Anteater daringly. "I heard that this tarantula likes to spray piggy banks."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Anteater, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the hayfield when we get a lot of tarantulas spraying piggy banks?"

"I can't imagine," insisted Mister Lobster.

"What are we going to do about it?" drawled Mister Anteater.

"Appoint a committee?" intimated Mister Lobster, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Anteater had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," bellowed Mister Lobster glumly, 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 Anteater elatedly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," emphasized Mister Lobster wildly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the bathtub on his front porch, looking out over the hayfield and wandering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Anteater. Do come again."

"Just a minute," stated Mister Anteater grimly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Mister Lobster thought he had answered, and was beginning to get dark. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mrs. Anteater doing these days?"

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

Mister Lobster sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied shyly.