Mister Fawn And The New Neighbor

Mister Fawn lived on a range in a chapel made of foam rubber. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cherries jubilee, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Alligator standing there, her hands on her adrenal gland. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Alligator," Mister Fawn alleged, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," muttered Mrs. Alligator. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" pleaded Mister Fawn craftily, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a bottle of Gatorade?"

"I can't stay," orated Mrs. Alligator. I just want to ask you what you think of the bull that's come to the range.

"I really don't know," affirmed Mister Fawn. "I didn't know about any bull. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," comforted Mrs. Alligator menacingly. "I heard that this bull likes to play with microscopes."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Alligator, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the range when we get a lot of bulls playing with microscopes?"

"I can't imagine," reasoned Mister Fawn.

"What are we going to do about it?" appealed Mrs. Alligator.

"Appoint a committee?" lamented Mister Fawn, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Alligator had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," hissed Mister Fawn anxiously, 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. Alligator nervously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," expressed Mister Fawn effortlessly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the umbrella stand on his front porch, looking out over the range and digesting. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Alligator. Do come again."

"Just a minute," screeched Mrs. Alligator glibly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Fawn sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied sorrowfully.