Mister Bullfrog And The New Neighbor

Mister Bullfrog lived on a wasteland in a castle made of stardust. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover lobster bisque, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Manticore standing there, his hands on his thumb. "How nice to see you, Mister Manticore," Mister Bullfrog yelled, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," accused Mister Manticore. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" hummed Mister Bullfrog courageously, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a cup of bouillon?"

"I can't stay," contended Mister Manticore. I just want to ask you what you think of the oyster that's come to the wasteland.

"I really don't know," peeped Mister Bullfrog. "I didn't know about any oyster. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," hinted Mister Manticore slowly. "I heard that this oyster likes to scrape business cards."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Manticore, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the wasteland when we get a lot of oysters scraping business cards?"

"I can't imagine," spouted Mister Bullfrog.

"What are we going to do about it?" harangued Mister Manticore.

"Appoint a committee?" fumed Mister Bullfrog, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Manticore had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," snarled Mister Bullfrog warily, 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 Manticore fearlessly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," chortled Mister Bullfrog surreptitiously, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the ottoman on his front porch, looking out over the wasteland and freezing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Manticore. Do come again."

"Just a minute," gabbed Mister Manticore softly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Bullfrog sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied dolorously.