Mister Lion And The New Neighbor

Mister Lion lived on a ridge in a farmhouse made of pipe cleaners. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover chocolate-covered ants, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Beagle standing there, her hands on her gall bladder. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Beagle," Mister Lion answered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," enunciated Mrs. Beagle. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" requested Mister Lion blankly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Scotch and soda?"

"I can't stay," answered Mrs. Beagle. I just want to ask you what you think of the dormouse that's come to the ridge.

"I really don't know," avowed Mister Lion. "I didn't know about any dormouse. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," hollered Mrs. Beagle miserably. "I heard that this dormouse likes to probe cell phones."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Beagle, 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 dormice probing cell phones?"

"I can't imagine," rationalized Mister Lion.

"What are we going to do about it?" disputed Mrs. Beagle.

"Appoint a committee?" pleaded Mister Lion, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Beagle had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Beagle vacantly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," hissed Mister Lion violently, 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 Mrs. Beagle softly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," asked Mister Lion temperamentally, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the workbench on his front porch, looking out over the ridge and glowering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Beagle. Do come again."

"Just a minute," grunted Mrs. Beagle jokingly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Lion sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied bravely.