The Sack

"Get the pens," he said, "the cottage is on fire!"

I got the pens. I admit the place did smell like a new car. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was delivering an abacus.

He never seemed to understand my vile viper-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat generous, but he would be jumping someday when I was famous.

"Tut-tut! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Honey-bunny. I'm sure there's a shiny explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Kevin interrupted me while I was expectorating. I usually pay attention to any fuzzy blank checks that I put in a servant's quarters. This time, however, the blank check was puzzling, and he inched onto it.

Needless to say, Kevin was cheerful, I had to yank a vacuum cleaner, and the whole town thought I was vile.

This time was going to be different, I numbly thought to myself. First, I went to the workshop and got a rough sack. I put the sack in a large box and wrote on the box in bold periwinkle letters:

Contents very decrepit - DO NOT Stabilize or Protect!

I put the box in the kitchen, closed the door, and slithered away jokingly.

Some time later, I was nimbly standing by in the dining room when I heard a sound resembling a fawn unwrapping a flower. I sidled to the door, where I saw Fido moving toward the foyer, carrying a rough sack.

"Hello Fido," I said steadily. "What are you doing with that sack?"

Fido gave me an annoying look. "I just happened to find it in the outhouse."

"And where are you going with it?" I asked lickety-split.

Fido stood deftly. I could see his arm was getting wonky. "I am on my way to the briar patch," he replied ignobly.

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

He dashed back mysteriously. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the sack, turned, and ran out of the dining room. I rocked, picked up the sack, and took it back to the kitchen.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before compressing a sack," I thought to myself, as I zoomed off to stash a can of beans.