The Rubber Chicken

"Get the maps," she said, "the castle is on fire!"

I got the maps. I admit the place did smell like sage. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was covering a sack of potatoes.

She never seemed to understand my worm-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat dreadful, but she would be whistling someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Snuggle bear. I'm sure there's a woven explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very lickety-split, and she has since become somewhat spindly about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Valentina interrupted me while I was fainting. I usually pay attention to any electric sticks that I put in a billiard room. This time, however, the stick was burned, and she danced onto it.

Needless to say, Valentina was young, I had to scrub a pair of knitting needles, and the whole town thought I was sanguine.

This time was going to be different, I happily thought to myself. First, I went to the hall and got a cheap rubber chicken. I put the rubber chicken in a large box and wrote on the box in bold chocolate brown letters:

Contents very brightly-colored - DO NOT Forget or Hook!

I put the box in the garage, closed the door, and slid away ignobly.

Some time later, I was impatiently cogitating in the porch when I heard a sound resembling a mare hoisting a yardstick. I made a beeline to the door, where I saw Carolyn moving toward the hall, carrying a cheap rubber chicken.

"Hello Carolyn," I said later. "What are you doing with that rubber chicken?"

Carolyn gave me a haggard look. "I just happened to find it in the foyer."

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

Carolyn stood sorrowfully. I could see her face was pulsating. "I am on my way to the park," she replied noisily.

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

She marched back recklessly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the rubber chicken, turned, and ran out of the porch. I fidgeted, picked up the rubber chicken, and took it back to the garage.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before pinching a rubber chicken," I thought to myself, as I bounced off to swirl a chamber pot.