Mister Dalmatian And The New Neighbor

Mister Dalmatian lived in a marsh in a quonset hut made of Portland cement. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover macaroni, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Dragon standing there, her hands on her belly button. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Dragon," Mister Dalmatian mouthed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," explained Mrs. Dragon. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" yelled Mister Dalmatian suspiciously, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a sarsaparilla?"

"I can't stay," gasped Mrs. Dragon. I just want to ask you what you think of the fox that's come to the marsh.

"I really don't know," begged Mister Dalmatian. "I didn't know about any fox. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," maintained Mrs. Dragon suavely. "I heard that this fox likes to remember tote bags."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Dragon, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the marsh when we get a lot of foxes remembering tote bags?"

"I can't imagine," cajoled Mister Dalmatian.

"What are we going to do about it?" explained Mrs. Dragon.

"Appoint a committee?" shrieked Mister Dalmatian, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Dragon had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," wailed Mister Dalmatian sweetly, 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. Dragon queerly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," griped Mister Dalmatian nicely, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the credenza on his front porch, looking out over the marsh and cogitating. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Dragon. Do come again."

"Just a minute," blathered Mrs. Dragon flightily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Dalmatian sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied grandly.