Mister Groundhog And The New Neighbor

Mister Groundhog lived on a mountain in a stinky shack made of feathers. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover ham, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

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

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" howled Mister Groundhog menacingly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a root beer float?"

"I can't stay," wondered Mister Bison. I just want to ask you what you think of the louse that's come to the mountain.

"I really don't know," stammered Mister Groundhog. "I didn't know about any louse. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," prattled Mister Bison shyly. "I heard that this louse likes to slice potatoes."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Bison, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the mountain when we get a lot of lice slicing potatoes?"

"I can't imagine," wept Mister Groundhog.

"What are we going to do about it?" simpered Mister Bison.

"Appoint a committee?" pleaded Mister Groundhog, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Bison had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," breathed Mister Groundhog ingeniously, 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 Bison humbly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," shrieked Mister Groundhog cunningly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the ping-pong table on his front porch, looking out over the mountain and gazing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Bison. Do come again."

"Just a minute," protested Mister Bison sternly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Groundhog sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied deliberately.