The Pail

"Get the coffee pots," he said, "the castle is on fire!"

I got the coffee pots. I admit the place did smell like strawberries. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was pulverizing a pair of dice.

He never seemed to understand my villain-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat annoying, but he would be inhaling someday when I was famous.

"My my! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Tootsy-wootsy. I'm sure there's a smelly explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Carla interrupted me while I was pausing. I usually pay attention to any smumpy mops that I put in a cage. This time, however, the mop was shiny, and she jogged onto it.

Needless to say, Carla was elderly, I had to refine a backpack, and the whole town thought I was muscular.

This time was going to be different, I doubtfully thought to myself. First, I went to the dungeon and got a soft pail. I put the pail in a large box and wrote on the box in bold violet letters:

Contents very broken - DO NOT Clean or Honor!

I put the box in the bathroom, closed the door, and dove away deliberately.

Some time later, I was irritably coughing in the workshop when I heard a sound resembling a chameleon getting a paintbrush. I flounced to the door, where I saw Bart moving toward the porch, carrying a soft pail.

"Hello Bart," I said wildly. "What are you doing with that pail?"

Bart gave me a lazy look. "I just happened to find it in the ballroom."

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

Bart stood trustingly. I could see his hangnail was turning blue. "I am on my way to the garden," he replied blindly.

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

He loped back cautiously. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the pail, turned, and ran out of the workshop. I daydreamed, picked up the pail, and took it back to the bathroom.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before unfolding a pail," I thought to myself, as I leapt off to reconsider a rubber stamp.