Rewrite this story

The Dead Tsetse Fly

"Get the cowbells," she said, "the trough is on fire!"

I got the cowbells. I admit the place did smell like greasepaint. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was replacing an air compressor.

She never seemed to understand my bumpkin-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat sarcastic, but she would be glowering someday when I was famous.

"Bingo! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Lambkin. I'm sure there's an overgrown explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very glumly, and she has since become somewhat mournful about the whole thing.

battery

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Quint interrupted me while I was wandering. I usually pay attention to any handy batteries that I put in a pantry. This time, however, the battery was electronic, and he scampered onto it.

Needless to say, Quint was corpulent, I had to lynch an ironing board, and the whole town thought I was unruffled.

This time was going to be different, I woefully thought to myself. First, I went to the corridor and got a striking dead tsetse fly. I put the dead tsetse fly in a large box and wrote on the box in bold striped letters:

cardboard box

Contents very smelly - DO NOT Refurbish or Split!

I put the box in the rec room, closed the door, and danced away dreamily.

Some time later, I was furiously yawning in the lounge when I heard a sound resembling a grasshopper extinguishing a remote control. I blundered to the door, where I saw Roxanne moving toward the parlor, carrying a striking dead tsetse fly.

"Hello Roxanne," I said busily. "What are you doing with that dead tsetse fly?"

Roxanne gave me a freakish look. "I just happened to find it in the dungeon."

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

Roxanne stood lamely. I could see her thyroid gland was unraveling. "I am on my way to the creek," she replied grandly.

I stared at her deliberately. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the rec room."

She tore back breathlessly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the dead tsetse fly, turned, and ran out of the lounge. I twitched, picked up the dead tsetse fly, and took it back to the rec room.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before bathing a dead tsetse fly," I thought to myself, as I lumbered off to scrub a playing card.