Mister Pigeon And The New Neighbor

Mister Pigeon lived in a rainforest in a housing project made of glass brick. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover fried chicken, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Butterfly standing there, her hands on her forehead. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Butterfly," Mister Pigeon comforted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," whimpered Mrs. Butterfly. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" stammered Mister Pigeon daintily, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of tomato juice?"

"I can't stay," accused Mrs. Butterfly. I just want to ask you what you think of the chipmunk that's come to the rainforest.

"I really don't know," imitated Mister Pigeon. "I didn't know about any chipmunk. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," queried Mrs. Butterfly gleefully. "I heard that this chipmunk likes to beat snails."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Butterfly, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the rainforest when we get a lot of chipmunks beating snails?"

"I can't imagine," trumpeted Mister Pigeon.

"What are we going to do about it?" enunciated Mrs. Butterfly.

"Appoint a committee?" vouched Mister Pigeon, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Butterfly had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," informed Mister Pigeon uselessly, 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. Butterfly nicely. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," sniveled Mister Pigeon primly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the catbird seat on his front porch, looking out over the rainforest and getting away. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Butterfly. Do come again."

"Just a minute," debated Mrs. Butterfly softly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Pigeon sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied woodenly.