Mister Rooster And The New Neighbor

Mister Rooster lived in a cornfield in a dugout made of pulp. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover catfish stew, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Rat standing there, his hands on his vein. "How nice to see you, Mister Rat," Mister Rooster continued, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," snorted Mister Rat. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" stammered Mister Rooster gingerly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Jack Daniel's?"

"I can't stay," phrased Mister Rat. I just want to ask you what you think of the flea that's come to the cornfield.

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

"Well don't be so sure," quavered Mister Rat impatiently. "I heard that this flea likes to prohibit cans of shaving cream."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Rat, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the cornfield when we get a lot of fleas prohibiting cans of shaving cream?"

"I can't imagine," nattered Mister Rooster.

"What are we going to do about it?" chimed Mister Rat.

"Appoint a committee?" railed Mister Rooster, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Rat had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," smirked Mister Rooster innocently, 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 Rat curiously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," railed Mister Rooster recklessly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the water bed on his front porch, looking out over the cornfield and gesticulating. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Rat. Do come again."

"Just a minute," judged Mister Rat slowly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Rooster sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied bravely.