Mister Poodle And The New Neighbor

Mister Poodle lived in a neighborhood in an A-frame made of chewing gum. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover fried okra, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Owl standing there, her hands on her hand. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Owl," Mister Poodle mentioned, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," gabbed Mrs. Owl. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" prattled Mister Poodle caustically, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a shot of bourbon?"

"I can't stay," boomed Mrs. Owl. I just want to ask you what you think of the manticore that's come to the neighborhood.

"I really don't know," joked Mister Poodle. "I didn't know about any manticore. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," tittered Mrs. Owl brashly. "I heard that this manticore likes to interpret tubes of toothpaste."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Owl, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the neighborhood when we get a lot of manticores interpreting tubes of toothpaste?"

"I can't imagine," swore Mister Poodle.

"What are we going to do about it?" opined Mrs. Owl.

"Appoint a committee?" thought Mister Poodle, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Owl had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," interrupted Mister Poodle dubiously, 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. Owl despondently. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," squawked Mister Poodle glibly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the pedestal on his front porch, looking out over the neighborhood and muttering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Owl. Do come again."

"Just a minute," gasped Mrs. Owl haughtily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Poodle sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied daintily.