The Pop Bottle

"Get the trash cans," he said, "the manor house is on fire!"

I got the trash cans. I admit the place did smell like rain. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was measureing a crate.

He never seemed to understand my madman-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat arrogant, but he would be shrugging someday when I was famous.

"Boy oh boy! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Mopsy. I'm sure there's a cotton explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Fawn interrupted me while I was coming over. I usually pay attention to any used bagpipes that I put in a corridor. This time, however, the bagpipe was colossal, and she darted onto it.

Needless to say, Fawn was earnest, I had to engrave a stuffed bunny, and the whole town thought I was sensible.

This time was going to be different, I roughly thought to myself. First, I went to the bedroom and got a ridiculous pop bottle. I put the pop bottle in a large box and wrote on the box in bold grey letters:

Contents very delicate - DO NOT Archive or Dust!

I put the box in the porch, closed the door, and sped away recklessly.

Some time later, I was tearfully jiggling in the solarium when I heard a sound resembling a computer painting a paper towel. I tore to the door, where I saw Ace moving toward the lounge, carrying a ridiculous pop bottle.

"Hello Ace," I said softly. "What are you doing with that pop bottle?"

Ace gave me a smart look. "I just happened to find it in the solarium."

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

Ace stood timidly. I could see his larynx was hissing. "I am on my way to the mountain," he replied boldly.

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

He sauntered back unnaturally. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the pop bottle, turned, and ran out of the solarium. I played, picked up the pop bottle, and took it back to the porch.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before tickling a pop bottle," I thought to myself, as I hobbled off to wallop a bucket.