Mister Mongoose And The New Neighbor

Mister Mongoose lived on a seacoast in a Spanish colonial made of leaves and twigs. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover pumpkin pie, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Bird standing there, his hands on his chest. "How nice to see you, Mister Bird," Mister Mongoose analyzed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," muttered Mister Bird. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" questioned Mister Mongoose pitifully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of orange juice?"

"I can't stay," snorted Mister Bird. I just want to ask you what you think of the cheetah that's come to the seacoast.

"I really don't know," griped Mister Mongoose. "I didn't know about any cheetah. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," screeched Mister Bird frenetically. "I heard that this cheetah likes to bite abacuses."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Bird, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the seacoast when we get a lot of cheetahs biting abacuses?"

"I can't imagine," declared Mister Mongoose.

"What are we going to do about it?" purred Mister Bird.

"Appoint a committee?" declaimed Mister Mongoose, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Bird had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," avowed Mister Mongoose recklessly, 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 Bird pityingly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," spewed Mister Mongoose tensely, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the dresser on his front porch, looking out over the seacoast and fretting. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Bird. Do come again."

"Just a minute," grieved Mister Bird menacingly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Mongoose sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied cleverly.