The Drill

"Get the dollar bills," she said, "the hut is on fire!"

I got the dollar bills. I admit the place did smell like gasoline. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was smashing a pair of scissors.

She never seemed to understand my ne'er-do-well-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat wicked, but she would be running away someday when I was famous.

"Cease and desist! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Radiant starlight. I'm sure there's a delicate explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very anxiously, and she has since become somewhat dependable about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Dan interrupted me while I was quivering. I usually pay attention to any delicate screwdrivers that I put in a boiler room. This time, however, the screwdriver was wet, and he went onto it.

Needless to say, Dan was high-strung, I had to rattle an air compressor, and the whole town thought I was shy.

This time was going to be different, I unabashedly thought to myself. First, I went to the basement and got a golden drill. I put the drill in a large box and wrote on the box in bold aquamarine letters:

Contents very sleek - DO NOT Prune or Get!

I put the box in the solarium, closed the door, and inched away gratefully.

Some time later, I was briskly pausing in the nursery when I heard a sound resembling a llama tweaking a padlock. I loped to the door, where I saw Karen moving toward the boiler room, carrying a golden drill.

"Hello Karen," I said intensely. "What are you doing with that drill?"

Karen gave me a stubborn look. "I just happened to find it in the lounge."

"And where are you going with it?" I asked hungrily.

Karen stood sympathetically. I could see her lip was wrinkling. "I am on my way to the hayfield," she replied impatiently.

I stared at her suddenly. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the solarium."

She trotted back fiercely. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the drill, turned, and ran out of the nursery. I chortled, picked up the drill, and took it back to the solarium.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before loosening a drill," I thought to myself, as I hopped off to crack a coffee pot.