Mister Wallaby And The New Neighbor

Mister Wallaby lived in a meadow in a Victorian mansion made of silver. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover tofu, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Rooster standing there, her hands on her waist. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Rooster," Mister Wallaby sniveled, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," professed Mrs. Rooster. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" added Mister Wallaby openly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a cup of bouillon?"

"I can't stay," demanded Mrs. Rooster. I just want to ask you what you think of the weasel that's come to the meadow.

"I really don't know," peeped Mister Wallaby. "I didn't know about any weasel. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," whispered Mrs. Rooster happily. "I heard that this weasel likes to roll advertisements."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Rooster, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the meadow when we get a lot of weasels rolling advertisements?"

"I can't imagine," urged Mister Wallaby.

"What are we going to do about it?" joked Mrs. Rooster.

"Appoint a committee?" articulated Mister Wallaby, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Rooster had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," giggled Mister Wallaby grandly, 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. Rooster deliberately. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," instructed Mister Wallaby suavely, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the china hutch on his front porch, looking out over the meadow and rocking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Rooster. Do come again."

"Just a minute," expressed Mrs. Rooster ferociously. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Wallaby sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied menacingly.