Miss Finch And The New Neighbor

Miss Finch lived on a plateau in a stinky shack made of beeswax. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover chicken gumbo, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Nightingale standing there, his hands on his paw. "How nice to see you, Mister Nightingale," Miss Finch roared, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," snarled Mister Nightingale. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" smirked Miss Finch strictly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a martini?"

"I can't stay," whined Mister Nightingale. I just want to ask you what you think of the peacock that's come to the plateau.

"I really don't know," orated Miss Finch. "I didn't know about any peacock. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," commented Mister Nightingale oddly. "I heard that this peacock likes to sand packs of gum."

"Um, I don't know what to say," began Miss Finch, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mister Nightingale, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the plateau when we get a lot of peacocks sanding packs of gum?"

"I can't imagine," began Miss Finch.

"What are we going to do about it?" retorted Mister Nightingale.

"Appoint a committee?" ranted Miss Finch, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Nightingale had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," explained Miss Finch grudgingly, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding herself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mister Nightingale suddenly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," fantasized Miss Finch briskly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the toilet on her front porch, looking out over the plateau and giggling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Nightingale. Do come again."

"Just a minute," mentioned Mister Nightingale narrowly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Miss Finch thought she had answered, and was beginning to get bizarre. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mrs. Nightingale doing these days?"

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

Miss Finch sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied charmingly.