Miss Weasel And The New Neighbor

Miss Weasel lived in a jungle in a studio made of posts and beams. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover hot dogs, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mrs. Opossum standing there, her hands on her lip. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Opossum," Miss Weasel spewed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," indicated Mrs. Opossum. "May I come in?"

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

"I can't stay," fretted Mrs. Opossum. I just want to ask you what you think of the brine shrimp that's come to the jungle.

"I really don't know," simpered Miss Weasel. "I didn't know about any brine shrimp. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," judged Mrs. Opossum queerly. "I heard that this brine shrimp likes to jab fishing rods."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Opossum, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the jungle when we get a lot of brine shrimp jabbing fishing rods?"

"I can't imagine," disputed Miss Weasel.

"What are we going to do about it?" rationalized Mrs. Opossum.

"Appoint a committee?" giggled Miss Weasel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Opossum had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," explained Miss Weasel kindly, 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 Mrs. Opossum ingeniously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," intoned Miss Weasel bitterly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the bench on her front porch, looking out over the jungle and itching. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Opossum. Do come again."

"Just a minute," burbled Mrs. Opossum lickety-split. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Weasel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied victoriously.