Mister Weasel And The New Neighbor

Mister Weasel lived on a beach in a bungalow made of bamboo. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover refried beans, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Penguin standing there, his hands on his gall bladder. "How nice to see you, Mister Penguin," Mister Weasel bellowed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," proposed Mister Penguin. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" informed Mister Weasel craftily, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a root beer float?"

"I can't stay," remarked Mister Penguin. I just want to ask you what you think of the polar bear that's come to the beach.

"I really don't know," laughed Mister Weasel. "I didn't know about any polar bear. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," vouched Mister Penguin gratefully. "I heard that this polar bear likes to select toys."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Penguin, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the beach when we get a lot of polar bears selecting toys?"

"I can't imagine," mentioned Mister Weasel.

"What are we going to do about it?" whimpered Mister Penguin.

"Appoint a committee?" commented Mister Weasel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Penguin had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," belched Mister Weasel cunningly, 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 Penguin shakily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," mentioned Mister Weasel hopefully, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the footstool on his front porch, looking out over the beach and snarling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Penguin. Do come again."

"Just a minute," reasoned Mister Penguin fiercely. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Weasel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied menacingly.