Mister Cockatiel And The New Neighbor

Mister Cockatiel lived on a seacoast in a motor home made of ceramic. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover ham, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Otter standing there, his hands on his pituitary gland. "How nice to see you, Mister Otter," Mister Cockatiel announced, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," growled Mister Otter. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" complained Mister Cockatiel anxiously, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a painkiller?"

"I can't stay," crooned Mister Otter. I just want to ask you what you think of the dormouse that's come to the seacoast.

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

"Well don't be so sure," mumbled Mister Otter sympathetically. "I heard that this dormouse likes to break bedpans."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Otter, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the seacoast when we get a lot of dormice breaking bedpans?"

"I can't imagine," chuckled Mister Cockatiel.

"What are we going to do about it?" gasped Mister Otter.

"Appoint a committee?" sighed Mister Cockatiel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Otter had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," comforted Mister Cockatiel blindly, 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 Otter clumsily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," gabbed Mister Cockatiel shyly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the beanbag chair on his front porch, looking out over the seacoast and talking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Otter. Do come again."

"Just a minute," clarified Mister Otter jokingly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Cockatiel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied craftily.