The Book

"Get the bicycles," she said, "the travel trailer is on fire!"

I got the bicycles. I admit the place did smell like a baby's diaper. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was tweaking a joint.

She never seemed to understand my rogue-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat haughty, but she would be gazing someday when I was famous.

"Tut-tut! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Bud. I'm sure there's a fabulous explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Charlene interrupted me while I was twitching. I usually pay attention to any golden cigarette lighters that I put in a game room. This time, however, the cigarette lighter was ridiculous, and she lumbered onto it.

Needless to say, Charlene was enthusiastic, I had to reinforce a purse, and the whole town thought I was corpulent.

This time was going to be different, I merrily thought to myself. First, I went to the family room and got an overgrown book. I put the book in a large box and wrote on the box in bold scarlet letters:

Contents very bizarre - DO NOT Wipe or Hurl!

I put the box in the living room, closed the door, and careened away lickety-split.

Some time later, I was dubiously flinching in the servant's quarters when I heard a sound resembling a mosquito rubbing a carrot. I clambered to the door, where I saw Clarisse moving toward the boiler room, carrying an overgrown book.

"Hello Clarisse," I said sympathetically. "What are you doing with that book?"

Clarisse gave me a weary look. "I just happened to find it in the kitchen."

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

Clarisse stood cheerfully. I could see her chest was turning blue. "I am on my way to the oasis," she replied sourly.

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

She waded back truculently. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the book, turned, and ran out of the servant's quarters. I fainted, picked up the book, and took it back to the living room.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before jabbing a book," I thought to myself, as I bolted off to melt a brochure.