Miss Computer And The New Neighbor

Miss Computer lived on a mountaintop in a log cabin made of junk cars. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover Cheerios, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Weasel standing there, his hands on his tummy. "How nice to see you, Mister Weasel," Miss Computer cajoled, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," conversed Mister Weasel. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" imitated Miss Computer hopefully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a whiskey sour?"

"I can't stay," remarked Mister Weasel. I just want to ask you what you think of the ass that's come to the mountaintop.

"I really don't know," interrupted Miss Computer. "I didn't know about any ass. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," blathered Mister Weasel boldly. "I heard that this ass likes to get air compressors."

"Um, I don't know what to say," roared Miss Computer, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Weasel, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the mountaintop when we get a lot of asses getting air compressors?"

"I can't imagine," remarked Miss Computer.

"What are we going to do about it?" screeched Mister Weasel.

"Appoint a committee?" worried Miss Computer, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Weasel had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," acknowledged Miss Computer sharply, 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 Weasel shakily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," requested Miss Computer testily, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the pillow on her front porch, looking out over the mountaintop and shaking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Weasel. Do come again."

"Just a minute," squeaked Mister Weasel cheerfully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Computer sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied stupidly.