Mister Goldfish And The New Neighbor

Mister Goldfish lived on a mesa in a townhouse made of wicker. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover prune pudding, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Doberman standing there, her hands on her antenna. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Doberman," Mister Goldfish trumpeted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," responded Mrs. Doberman. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" growled Mister Goldfish fondly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a secret potion?"

"I can't stay," said Mrs. Doberman. I just want to ask you what you think of the grasshopper that's come to the mesa.

"I really don't know," gasped Mister Goldfish. "I didn't know about any grasshopper. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," agreed Mrs. Doberman resignedly. "I heard that this grasshopper likes to plasticize pacifiers."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Doberman, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the mesa when we get a lot of grasshoppers plasticizing pacifiers?"

"I can't imagine," joked Mister Goldfish.

"What are we going to do about it?" shouted Mrs. Doberman.

"Appoint a committee?" divulged Mister Goldfish, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Doberman had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," boasted Mister Goldfish roughly, 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. Doberman haughtily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," purred Mister Goldfish steadily, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the piano on his front porch, looking out over the mesa and gesticulating. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Doberman. Do come again."

"Just a minute," tittered Mrs. Doberman primly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Goldfish sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied defiantly.