Mister Bumblebee And The New Neighbor

Mister Bumblebee lived on a wasteland in an apartment made of flax. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover fried okra, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Parakeet standing there, her hands on her kneecap. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Parakeet," Mister Bumblebee quavered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," professed Mrs. Parakeet. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" indicated Mister Bumblebee miserably, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a chamomile tea?"

"I can't stay," croaked Mrs. Parakeet. I just want to ask you what you think of the flamingo that's come to the wasteland.

"I really don't know," hinted Mister Bumblebee. "I didn't know about any flamingo. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," harangued Mrs. Parakeet queerly. "I heard that this flamingo likes to rotate rubber chickens."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Parakeet, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the wasteland when we get a lot of flamingoes rotating rubber chickens?"

"I can't imagine," insisted Mister Bumblebee.

"What are we going to do about it?" ranted Mrs. Parakeet.

"Appoint a committee?" comforted Mister Bumblebee, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Parakeet had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," judged Mister Bumblebee arrogantly, 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. Parakeet smoothly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," smirked Mister Bumblebee stealthily, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the china hutch on his front porch, looking out over the wasteland and scratching. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Parakeet. Do come again."

"Just a minute," stuttered Mrs. Parakeet crankily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Bumblebee sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied courageously.