Mister Quail And The New Neighbor

Mister Quail lived on a wasteland in a yurt made of brass. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover borscht, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

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

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" said Mister Quail lickety-split, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a soda?"

"I can't stay," analyzed Mrs. Pekingese. I just want to ask you what you think of the dachshund that's come to the wasteland.

"I really don't know," announced Mister Quail. "I didn't know about any dachshund. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," invited Mrs. Pekingese ferociously. "I heard that this dachshund likes to dislodge cupcakes."

"Um, I don't know what to say," spoke up Mister Quail, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Pekingese, 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 dachshunds dislodging cupcakes?"

"I can't imagine," decided Mister Quail.

"What are we going to do about it?" began Mrs. Pekingese.

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

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

"Well that's a fine idea," asserted Mister Quail hungrily, 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. Pekingese vacantly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," noted Mister Quail miserably, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the stool on his front porch, looking out over the wasteland and thinking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Pekingese. Do come again."

"Just a minute," blathered Mrs. Pekingese warily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Quail sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied languidly.