Mister Fawn And The New Neighbor

Mister Fawn lived in a village in a Victorian mansion made of linen. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cabbage, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Guinea pig standing there, her hands on her waist. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Guinea pig," Mister Fawn spat, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," demanded Mrs. Guinea pig. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" snarled Mister Fawn shyly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of milk?"

"I can't stay," hissed Mrs. Guinea pig. I just want to ask you what you think of the falcon that's come to the village.

"I really don't know," blustered Mister Fawn. "I didn't know about any falcon. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," implored Mrs. Guinea pig joyously. "I heard that this falcon likes to hang remote controls."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Guinea pig, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the village when we get a lot of falcons hanging remote controls?"

"I can't imagine," blustered Mister Fawn.

"What are we going to do about it?" invited Mrs. Guinea pig.

"Appoint a committee?" prattled Mister Fawn, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Guinea pig had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Guinea pig peevishly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," chattered Mister Fawn dolorously, 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. Guinea pig lamely. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," peeped Mister Fawn coolly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the casket on his front porch, looking out over the village and squinting. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Guinea pig. Do come again."

"Just a minute," pointed out Mrs. Guinea pig impatiently. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Fawn sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied sharply.