Mister Basset Hound And The New Neighbor

Mister Basset hound lived in a badlands area in a cottage made of wood. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover ice cream, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Crab standing there, her hands on her hip. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Crab," Mister Basset hound squeaked, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," repeated Mrs. Crab. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" begged Mister Basset hound speedily, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a double latte?"

"I can't stay," answered Mrs. Crab. I just want to ask you what you think of the giraffe that's come to the badlands area.

"I really don't know," comforted Mister Basset hound. "I didn't know about any giraffe. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," interpreted Mrs. Crab dolorously. "I heard that this giraffe likes to feel maps."

"Um, I don't know what to say," acknowledged Mister Basset hound, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Crab, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the badlands area when we get a lot of giraffes feeling maps?"

"I can't imagine," phrased Mister Basset hound.

"What are we going to do about it?" rebutted Mrs. Crab.

"Appoint a committee?" rebutted Mister Basset hound, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Crab had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," sniffed Mister Basset hound roughly, 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. Crab vacantly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," voiced Mister Basset hound intensely, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the bed on his front porch, looking out over the badlands area and itching. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Crab. Do come again."

"Just a minute," sneered Mrs. Crab automatically. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Basset hound sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied caustically.