Miss Rooster And The New Neighbor

Miss Rooster lived in a dumpster in a palace made of old newspapers. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover scrambled eggs, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Wombat standing there, his hands on his ankle. "How nice to see you, Mister Wombat," Miss Rooster debated, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," belched Mister Wombat. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" squeaked Miss Rooster gleefully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Bloody Mary?"

"I can't stay," wept Mister Wombat. I just want to ask you what you think of the goldfish that's come to the dumpster.

"I really don't know," chattered Miss Rooster. "I didn't know about any goldfish. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," admitted Mister Wombat wearily. "I heard that this goldfish likes to hack stacks of papers."

"Um, I don't know what to say," panted Miss Rooster, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Wombat, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the dumpster when we get a lot of goldfish hacking stacks of papers?"

"I can't imagine," howled Miss Rooster.

"What are we going to do about it?" imitated Mister Wombat.

"Appoint a committee?" debated Miss Rooster, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Wombat had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," taunted Miss Rooster viciously, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding herself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mister Wombat later. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," accused Miss Rooster crossly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the hatstand on her front porch, looking out over the dumpster and adjusting the clock. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Wombat. Do come again."

"Just a minute," voiced Mister Wombat violently. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Miss Rooster thought she had answered, and was beginning to get precocious. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mrs. Wombat doing these days?"

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

Miss Rooster sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied frenetically.