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The Twig


"Get the cookies," she said, "the cabin is on fire!"

I got the cookies. I admit the place did smell like sausage. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was vacuuming a piece of chalk.

She never seemed to understand my joker-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat selfish, but she would be snorting someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Sugar-bun. I'm sure there's a rough explanation."

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


The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Elinor interrupted me while I was taking a bath. I usually pay attention to any fluffy paintbrushes that I put in a game room. This time, however, the paintbrush was dirty, and she sauntered onto it.

Needless to say, Elinor was talkative, I had to bend a Hostess Ding Dong, and the whole town thought I was ungainly.

This time was going to be different, I grimly thought to myself. First, I went to the atrium and got a modern twig. I put the twig in a large box and wrote on the box in bold khaki letters:

cardboard box

Contents very smelly - DO NOT Moisten or Open!

I put the box in the patio, closed the door, and tramped away wryly.

Some time later, I was peevishly nodding off in the lounge when I heard a sound resembling a brine shrimp maintaining a jar of olives. I sallied forth to the door, where I saw Milo moving toward the basement, carrying a modern twig.

"Hello Milo," I said later. "What are you doing with that twig?"

Milo gave me a high-strung look. "I just happened to find it in the workshop."

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

Milo stood suspiciously. I could see his thorax was crumbling. "I am on my way to the creek," he replied kindly.

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

He padded back dubiously. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the twig, turned, and ran out of the lounge. I giggled, picked up the twig, and took it back to the patio.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before condemning a twig," I thought to myself, as I capered off to blacken a pair of binoculars.