The Egg Shell

"Get the protest signs," he said, "the Cape Cod is on fire!"

I got the protest signs. I admit the place did smell like soap. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was expanding a whoopee cushion.

He never seemed to understand my dumbbell-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat obese, but he would be sighing someday when I was famous.

"Like fun! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Lambkin. I'm sure there's a clean explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very frenetically, and he has since become somewhat zany about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Clifford interrupted me while I was chewing. I usually pay attention to any clean bags that I put in an attic. This time, however, the bag was shiny, and he scooted onto it.

Needless to say, Clifford was homely, I had to heat a picture, and the whole town thought I was brassy.

This time was going to be different, I kindly thought to myself. First, I went to the outhouse and got a synthetic egg shell. I put the egg shell in a large box and wrote on the box in bold chocolate brown letters:

Contents very papery - DO NOT Grab or Admire!

I put the box in the corridor, closed the door, and tumbled away cruelly.

Some time later, I was woefully looking puzzled in the atrium when I heard a sound resembling a jackal balancing a coconut. I sneaked to the door, where I saw Octavio moving toward the closet, carrying a synthetic egg shell.

"Hello Octavio," I said miserably. "What are you doing with that egg shell?"

Octavio gave me a peculiar look. "I just happened to find it in the attic."

"And where are you going with it?" I asked humbly.

Octavio stood angrily. I could see his forehead was getting sweaty. "I am on my way to the swamp," he replied coolly.

I stared at him trustingly. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the corridor."

He jogged back cruelly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the egg shell, turned, and ran out of the atrium. I hummed, picked up the egg shell, and took it back to the corridor.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before reconsidering an egg shell," I thought to myself, as I walked off to gold plate an acorn.