Mister Ox And The New Neighbor

Mister Ox lived in a housing development in a quonset hut made of canvas. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover bread and butter, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Bison standing there, her hands on her nostril. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Bison," Mister Ox lamented, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," requested Mrs. Bison. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" proposed Mister Ox miserably, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a margarita?"

"I can't stay," expressed Mrs. Bison. I just want to ask you what you think of the phantom that's come to the housing development.

"I really don't know," whined Mister Ox. "I didn't know about any phantom. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," guessed Mrs. Bison jokingly. "I heard that this phantom likes to categorize towels."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Bison, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the housing development when we get a lot of phantoms categorizing towels?"

"I can't imagine," yawned Mister Ox.

"What are we going to do about it?" winked Mrs. Bison.

"Appoint a committee?" enunciated Mister Ox, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Bison had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," chattered Mister Ox bravely, 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. Bison boldly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," announced Mister Ox nimbly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the wine rack on his front porch, looking out over the housing development and praying. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Bison. Do come again."

"Just a minute," boomed Mrs. Bison tearfully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Ox sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied tenderly.