Mister Giraffe And The New Neighbor

Mister Giraffe lived in a neighborhood in a palace made of rope. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover burritos, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Penguin standing there, her hands on her chest. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Penguin," Mister Giraffe answered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," fantasized Mrs. Penguin. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" sputtered Mister Giraffe cautiously, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a whiskey?"

"I can't stay," reminded Mrs. Penguin. I just want to ask you what you think of the poodle that's come to the neighborhood.

"I really don't know," shouted Mister Giraffe. "I didn't know about any poodle. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," shrieked Mrs. Penguin slowly. "I heard that this poodle likes to remember hand puppets."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Penguin, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the neighborhood when we get a lot of poodles remembering hand puppets?"

"I can't imagine," retorted Mister Giraffe.

"What are we going to do about it?" spewed Mrs. Penguin.

"Appoint a committee?" maintained Mister Giraffe, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Penguin had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," judged Mister Giraffe flightily, 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. Penguin impatiently. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," intimated Mister Giraffe cleverly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the dishwasher on his front porch, looking out over the neighborhood and squealing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Penguin. Do come again."

"Just a minute," blubbered Mrs. Penguin ignobly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Giraffe sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied ignobly.