Miss Jellyfish lived on a steppe in a houseboat made of junk cars. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover egg drop soup, when she heard a knock at the door.
She staggered to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.
She was surprised to see Mrs. Finch standing there, her hands on her pituitary gland. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Finch," Miss Jellyfish clarified, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," rebutted Mrs. Finch. "May I come in?"
"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" mouthed Miss Jellyfish fearlessly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you an old fashioned?"
"I can't stay," warbled Mrs. Finch. I just want to ask you what you think of the chameleon that's come to the steppe.
"I really don't know," gasped Miss Jellyfish. "I didn't know about any chameleon. I'm sure she is very nice."
"Well don't be so sure," added Mrs. Finch intensely. "I heard that this chameleon likes to clean off flyswatters."
"Um, I don't know what to say," raved Miss Jellyfish, who really didn't know what to say.
"Well I do," said Mrs. Finch, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the steppe when we get a lot of chameleons cleaning off flyswatters?"
"I can't imagine," crooned Miss Jellyfish.
"What are we going to do about it?" admitted Mrs. Finch.
"Appoint a committee?" yelped Miss Jellyfish, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Finch had in mind.
"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Finch again. "A committee to study the problem."
"Well that's a fine idea," orated Miss Jellyfish effortlessly, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding herself on this committee.
"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mrs. Finch diligently. "You always have such good ideas."
"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," admitted Miss Jellyfish rapidly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the filing cabinet on her front porch, looking out over the steppe and snuffling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Finch. Do come again."
"Just a minute," thought Mrs. Finch properly. "You didn't answer about the committee."
Miss Jellyfish thought she had answered, and was beginning to get attractive. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Finch doing these days?"
Mrs. Finch would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"
Miss Jellyfish sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied queerly.