Mister Cockatiel And The New Neighbor

Mister Cockatiel lived in a desert in a tent made of toothpicks. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cornbread, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Quail standing there, his hands on his hair. "How nice to see you, Mister Quail," Mister Cockatiel chanted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," blathered Mister Quail. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" yelped Mister Cockatiel grandly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a piña colada?"

"I can't stay," exclaimed Mister Quail. I just want to ask you what you think of the Dalmatian that's come to the desert.

"I really don't know," observed Mister Cockatiel. "I didn't know about any Dalmatian. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," bellowed Mister Quail tearfully. "I heard that this Dalmatian likes to maintain coffee pots."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Quail, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the desert when we get a lot of Dalmatians maintaining coffee pots?"

"I can't imagine," wondered Mister Cockatiel.

"What are we going to do about it?" intoned Mister Quail.

"Appoint a committee?" tittered Mister Cockatiel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Quail had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," rumored Mister Cockatiel lazily, 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 Quail boisterously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," hissed Mister Cockatiel openly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the casket on his front porch, looking out over the desert and yawning. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Quail. Do come again."

"Just a minute," contended Mister Quail oddly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Cockatiel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied mysteriously.