Mister Crocodile And The New Neighbor

Mister Crocodile lived in a lagoon in a wigwam made of mud bricks. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover egg drop soup, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Buzzard standing there, her hands on her belly button. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Buzzard," Mister Crocodile drawled, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," demanded Mrs. Buzzard. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" bragged Mister Crocodile nicely, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a fruit smoothie?"

"I can't stay," disputed Mrs. Buzzard. I just want to ask you what you think of the goldfish that's come to the lagoon.

"I really don't know," wondered Mister Crocodile. "I didn't know about any goldfish. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," thought Mrs. Buzzard again. "I heard that this goldfish likes to cover fishing rods."

"Um, I don't know what to say," pointed out Mister Crocodile, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Buzzard, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the lagoon when we get a lot of goldfish covering fishing rods?"

"I can't imagine," announced Mister Crocodile.

"What are we going to do about it?" continued Mrs. Buzzard.

"Appoint a committee?" railed Mister Crocodile, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Buzzard had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," contended Mister Crocodile lovingly, 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. Buzzard sheepishly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," crooned Mister Crocodile perkily, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the hatstand on his front porch, looking out over the lagoon and moaning. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Buzzard. Do come again."

"Just a minute," announced Mrs. Buzzard irritably. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Crocodile sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied unnaturally.