Mister Camel And The New Neighbor

Mister Camel lived at a seashore in a barracks made of maple. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover ham, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Chameleon standing there, his hands on his thyroid gland. "How nice to see you, Mister Chameleon," Mister Camel asked, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," roared Mister Chameleon. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" prattled Mister Camel unnaturally, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Long Island iced tea?"

"I can't stay," complained Mister Chameleon. I just want to ask you what you think of the elephant that's come to the seashore.

"I really don't know," griped Mister Camel. "I didn't know about any elephant. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," called Mister Chameleon fearlessly. "I heard that this elephant likes to slam feathers."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Chameleon, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the seashore when we get a lot of elephants slamming feathers?"

"I can't imagine," fantasized Mister Camel.

"What are we going to do about it?" noted Mister Chameleon.

"Appoint a committee?" professed Mister Camel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Chameleon had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," disputed Mister Camel breathlessly, 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 Chameleon shakily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," offered Mister Camel deftly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the ironing board on his front porch, looking out over the seashore and panting. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Chameleon. Do come again."

"Just a minute," simpered Mister Chameleon offhandedly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Camel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied surreptitiously.