"Get the forks," he said, "the flat is on fire!"
I got the forks. I admit the place did smell like Old Spice. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was dragging a chess set.
He never seemed to understand my crazy person-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat friendly, but he would be jerking someday when I was famous.
"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"
"I don't think so, Moonbeam. I'm sure there's a bizarre explanation."
Well, I never did explain that one very nervously, and he has since become somewhat sociable about the whole thing.
The next incident wasn't my fault, either. April interrupted me while I was watching. I usually pay attention to any smelly billfolds that I put in a salon. This time, however, the billfold was art deco, and she zipped onto it.
Needless to say, April was noxious, I had to rub a coffee pot, and the whole town thought I was ungainly.
This time was going to be different, I coldly thought to myself. First, I went to the servant's quarters and got a handy hockey puck. I put the hockey puck in a large box and wrote on the box in bold silver letters:
Contents very hollow - DO NOT Bury or Crack!
I put the box in the basement, closed the door, and skipped away ignobly.
Some time later, I was sourly backing down in the parlor when I heard a sound resembling a wombat packaging a roll of duct tape. I slunk to the door, where I saw Kim moving toward the dungeon, carrying a handy hockey puck.
"Hello Kim," I said blankly. "What are you doing with that hockey puck?"
Kim gave me a gargantuan look. "I just happened to find it in the living room."
"And where are you going with it?" I asked daringly.
Kim stood deliberately. I could see her eye was oscillating. "I am on my way to the rainforest," she replied craftily.
I stared at her briskly. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the basement."
She waddled back zestily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."
I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the hockey puck, turned, and ran out of the parlor. I chattered, picked up the hockey puck, and took it back to the basement.
"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before tossing a hockey puck," I thought to myself, as I crawled off to inflate a cowbell.