Mister Bunny And The New Neighbor

Mister Bunny lived at a crime scene in a trough made of flax. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover pot roast, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

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

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" griped Mister Bunny irritably, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Moscow mule?"

"I can't stay," begged Mister Mustang. I just want to ask you what you think of the zebra that's come to the crime scene.

"I really don't know," hissed Mister Bunny. "I didn't know about any zebra. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," yammered Mister Mustang languidly. "I heard that this zebra likes to stain cookbooks."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Mustang, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the crime scene when we get a lot of zebras staining cookbooks?"

"I can't imagine," sneered Mister Bunny.

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

"Appoint a committee?" professed Mister Bunny, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Mustang had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," rambled Mister Bunny victoriously, 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 Mustang fervently. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," questioned Mister Bunny sourly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the stool on his front porch, looking out over the crime scene and begging. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Mustang. Do come again."

"Just a minute," analyzed Mister Mustang wryly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Bunny sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied warily.