Mister Fish And The New Neighbor

Mister Fish lived in a backyard in a nunnery made of clay. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover duck a l'orange, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Pheasant standing there, his hands on his Adam's apple. "How nice to see you, Mister Pheasant," Mister Fish boomed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," babbled Mister Pheasant. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" insisted Mister Fish fearlessly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a latte?"

"I can't stay," groveled Mister Pheasant. I just want to ask you what you think of the squirrel that's come to the backyard.

"I really don't know," suggested Mister Fish. "I didn't know about any squirrel. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," expressed Mister Pheasant positively. "I heard that this squirrel likes to develop spiders."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Pheasant, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the backyard when we get a lot of squirrels developing spiders?"

"I can't imagine," brought up Mister Fish.

"What are we going to do about it?" spat Mister Pheasant.

"Appoint a committee?" cackled Mister Fish, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Pheasant had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," noted Mister Fish fondly, 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 Pheasant madly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," smiled Mister Fish angrily, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the hammock on his front porch, looking out over the backyard and barking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Pheasant. Do come again."

"Just a minute," vowed Mister Pheasant repeatedly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Fish sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied lamely.