Miss Weasel And The New Neighbor

Miss Weasel lived in a treetop in a cabin made of gold. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover pizza, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Hornet standing there, his hands on his skull. "How nice to see you, Mister Hornet," Miss Weasel judged, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," whispered Mister Hornet. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" muttered Miss Weasel offhandedly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of buttermilk?"

"I can't stay," invited Mister Hornet. I just want to ask you what you think of the penguin that's come to the treetop.

"I really don't know," pleaded Miss Weasel. "I didn't know about any penguin. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," articulated Mister Hornet neatly. "I heard that this penguin likes to analyze bird cages."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Hornet, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the treetop when we get a lot of penguins analyzing bird cages?"

"I can't imagine," gabbed Miss Weasel.

"What are we going to do about it?" provoked Mister Hornet.

"Appoint a committee?" worried Miss Weasel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Hornet had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," sniped Miss Weasel blissfully, 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 Hornet coolly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," wondered Miss Weasel sheepishly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the washstand on her front porch, looking out over the treetop and fainting. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Hornet. Do come again."

"Just a minute," continued Mister Hornet grimly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Weasel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied majestically.