Miss Bumblebee And The New Neighbor

Miss Bumblebee lived on a mountainside in a brownstone made of banana leaves. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover chicken chow mein, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

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

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" asserted Miss Bumblebee lickety-split, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a cup of bouillon?"

"I can't stay," roared Mister Chameleon. I just want to ask you what you think of the flea that's come to the mountainside.

"I really don't know," sputtered Miss Bumblebee. "I didn't know about any flea. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," revealed Mister Chameleon queerly. "I heard that this flea likes to rebuild tablet computers."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Chameleon, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the mountainside when we get a lot of fleas rebuilding tablet computers?"

"I can't imagine," sputtered Miss Bumblebee.

"What are we going to do about it?" warbled Mister Chameleon.

"Appoint a committee?" peeped Miss Bumblebee, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Chameleon had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," stormed Miss Bumblebee crankily, 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 Chameleon woodenly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," rumored Miss Bumblebee sourly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the bookshelf on her front porch, looking out over the mountainside and expectorating. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Chameleon. Do come again."

"Just a minute," demanded Mister Chameleon lightly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Bumblebee sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied sorrowfully.