Mister Pekingese And The New Neighbor

Mister Pekingese lived in a country meadow in a stinky shack made of marbles. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover tofu, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Pigeon standing there, her hands on her toupee. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Pigeon," Mister Pekingese roared, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," gabbed Mrs. Pigeon. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" whined Mister Pekingese recklessly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Bud Lite?"

"I can't stay," chuckled Mrs. Pigeon. I just want to ask you what you think of the canary that's come to the country meadow.

"I really don't know," cajoled Mister Pekingese. "I didn't know about any canary. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," yelped Mrs. Pigeon steadily. "I heard that this canary likes to hurl dead colts."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Pigeon, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the country meadow when we get a lot of canaries hurling dead colts?"

"I can't imagine," barked Mister Pekingese.

"What are we going to do about it?" intoned Mrs. Pigeon.

"Appoint a committee?" rumored Mister Pekingese, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Pigeon had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Pigeon cunningly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," requested Mister Pekingese cautiously, 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 Mrs. Pigeon resignedly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," roared Mister Pekingese ignobly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the desk on his front porch, looking out over the country meadow and coughing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Pigeon. Do come again."

"Just a minute," pleaded Mrs. Pigeon uneasily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Pekingese sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied queerly.