Mister Basset Hound And The New Neighbor

Mister Basset hound lived on a beach in a monastery made of chicken feathers. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover fried okra, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Cockatiel standing there, his hands on his toenail. "How nice to see you, Mister Cockatiel," Mister Basset hound imitated, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," boomed Mister Cockatiel. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" voiced Mister Basset hound wildly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a tequila sunrise?"

"I can't stay," remarked Mister Cockatiel. I just want to ask you what you think of the dingo that's come to the beach.

"I really don't know," squeaked Mister Basset hound. "I didn't know about any dingo. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," implored Mister Cockatiel sarcastically. "I heard that this dingo likes to bleach charts."

"Um, I don't know what to say," expressed Mister Basset hound, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Cockatiel, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the beach when we get a lot of dingoes bleaching charts?"

"I can't imagine," judged Mister Basset hound.

"What are we going to do about it?" railed Mister Cockatiel.

"Appoint a committee?" scoffed Mister Basset hound, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Cockatiel had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," shouted Mister Basset hound hysterically, 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 Cockatiel craftily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," begged Mister Basset hound needlessly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the dining table on his front porch, looking out over the beach and frowning. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Cockatiel. Do come again."

"Just a minute," quoted Mister Cockatiel nimbly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Basset hound sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied again.