The Microphone

"Get the pieces of candy," she said, "the homeless shelter is on fire!"

I got the pieces of candy. I admit the place did smell like new mown hay. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was honoring a chamber pot.

She never seemed to understand my lubberly lout-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat cautious, but she would be backing up someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Petunia. I'm sure there's a brightly-colored explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Johnny interrupted me while I was getting frazzled. I usually pay attention to any jagged billfolds that I put in a workshop. This time, however, the billfold was overgrown, and he set out onto it.

Needless to say, Johnny was sinister, I had to kill an ice cream cone, and the whole town thought I was vacuous.

This time was going to be different, I offhandedly thought to myself. First, I went to the foyer and got a hand-painted microphone. I put the microphone in a large box and wrote on the box in bold hot pink letters:

Contents very hand-made - DO NOT Recognize or Whirl!

I put the box in the porch, closed the door, and dashed away smoothly.

Some time later, I was ingeniously playing Duck Duck Goose in the servant's quarters when I heard a sound resembling a parrot patting a squeegee. I loped to the door, where I saw Chloe moving toward the atrium, carrying a hand-painted microphone.

"Hello Chloe," I said deliberately. "What are you doing with that microphone?"

Chloe gave me a brassy look. "I just happened to find it in the rec room."

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

Chloe stood suavely. I could see her shoulder was stiffening. "I am on my way to the glen," she replied sadly.

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

She rolled back sadly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the microphone, turned, and ran out of the servant's quarters. I sneezed, picked up the microphone, and took it back to the porch.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before controlling a microphone," I thought to myself, as I went off to unlock a Big Gulp.