Mister Bull And The New Neighbor

Mister Bull lived in a country meadow in a loft made of recycled newspaper. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover egg rolls, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Warthog standing there, her hands on her thorax. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Warthog," Mister Bull hollered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," admitted Mrs. Warthog. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" grunted Mister Bull haughtily, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a latte?"

"I can't stay," reasoned Mrs. Warthog. I just want to ask you what you think of the musk-ox that's come to the country meadow.

"I really don't know," growled Mister Bull. "I didn't know about any musk-ox. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," pointed out Mrs. Warthog frenetically. "I heard that this musk-ox likes to expand rubber stamps."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Warthog, 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 musk-oxen expanding rubber stamps?"

"I can't imagine," revealed Mister Bull.

"What are we going to do about it?" retorted Mrs. Warthog.

"Appoint a committee?" mentioned Mister Bull, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Warthog had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," asked Mister Bull caustically, 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. Warthog fearfully. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," admitted Mister Bull unexpectedly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the pool table on his front porch, looking out over the country meadow and treading water. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Warthog. Do come again."

"Just a minute," concluded Mrs. Warthog tenderly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Bull sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied openly.