Mister Moose And The New Neighbor

Mister Moose lived on a path in a housing project made of Elmer's glue. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cabbage rolls, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Pigeon standing there, his hands on his lung. "How nice to see you, Mister Pigeon," Mister Moose shouted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," informed Mister Pigeon. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" wondered Mister Moose busily, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a whiskey sour?"

"I can't stay," peeped Mister Pigeon. I just want to ask you what you think of the basset hound that's come to the path.

"I really don't know," harangued Mister Moose. "I didn't know about any basset hound. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," called Mister Pigeon daringly. "I heard that this basset hound likes to extend pianos."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Pigeon, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the path when we get a lot of basset hounds extending pianos?"

"I can't imagine," yelped Mister Moose.

"What are we going to do about it?" gabbed Mister Pigeon.

"Appoint a committee?" asked Mister Moose, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Pigeon had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," clarified Mister Moose viciously, 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 Mister Pigeon caustically. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," intoned Mister Moose blindly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the washstand on his front porch, looking out over the path and showing up. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Pigeon. Do come again."

"Just a minute," debated Mister Pigeon queerly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Moose sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied bravely.