Mister Flamingo And The New Neighbor

Mister Flamingo lived in a canyon in a manor house made of construction paper. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover dirty rice, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Buffalo standing there, his hands on his carotid artery. "How nice to see you, Mister Buffalo," Mister Flamingo railed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," burbled Mister Buffalo. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" smiled Mister Flamingo delicately, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Tom and Jerry?"

"I can't stay," wept Mister Buffalo. I just want to ask you what you think of the jellyfish that's come to the canyon.

"I really don't know," mused Mister Flamingo. "I didn't know about any jellyfish. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," rumored Mister Buffalo sleepily. "I heard that this jellyfish likes to compress Frisbees."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Buffalo, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the canyon when we get a lot of jellyfish compressing Frisbees?"

"I can't imagine," recited Mister Flamingo.

"What are we going to do about it?" orated Mister Buffalo.

"Appoint a committee?" announced Mister Flamingo, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Buffalo had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," disputed Mister Flamingo testily, 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 Buffalo madly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," trumpeted Mister Flamingo kindly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the filing cabinet on his front porch, looking out over the canyon and puckering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Buffalo. Do come again."

"Just a minute," shouted Mister Buffalo awkwardly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Flamingo sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied ingeniously.