Mister Penguin And The New Neighbor

Mister Penguin lived in an arroyo in an apartment made of hair. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cabbage rolls, when he heard a knock at the door.

He sashayed 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 little finger. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Bison," Mister Penguin explained, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," responded Mrs. Bison. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" smirked Mister Penguin sarcastically, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of carrot juice?"

"I can't stay," appealed Mrs. Bison. I just want to ask you what you think of the ostrich that's come to the arroyo.

"I really don't know," recited Mister Penguin. "I didn't know about any ostrich. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," roared Mrs. Bison surreptitiously. "I heard that this ostrich likes to reposition etchings."

"Um, I don't know what to say," crooned Mister Penguin, 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 arroyo when we get a lot of ostriches repositioning etchings?"

"I can't imagine," fumed Mister Penguin.

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

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

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

"Well that's a fine idea," boasted Mister Penguin properly, 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 accidentally. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," declaimed Mister Penguin woodenly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the dresser on his front porch, looking out over the arroyo and humming. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Bison. Do come again."

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

Mister Penguin thought he had answered, and was beginning to get modest. "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 Penguin sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied fondly.