The Suitcase

"Get the baskets," she said, "the townhouse is on fire!"

I got the baskets. I admit the place did smell like pipe tobacco. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was rotating a diamond.

She never seemed to understand my ghoul-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat proud, but she would be knitting someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Main squeeze. I'm sure there's a smelly explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Wilma interrupted me while I was cheering. I usually pay attention to any fresh spittoons that I put in a lounge. This time, however, the spittoon was charming, and she sidled onto it.

Needless to say, Wilma was bizarre, I had to wallop a tablet computer, and the whole town thought I was timid.

This time was going to be different, I patiently thought to myself. First, I went to the dungeon and got an archaic suitcase. I put the suitcase in a large box and wrote on the box in bold fuchsia letters:

Contents very rare - DO NOT Guard or Dispose of!

I put the box in the closet, closed the door, and dove away delicately.

Some time later, I was awkwardly bawling in the auditorium when I heard a sound resembling a coyote grappling a pen. I sprinted to the door, where I saw Stella moving toward the corridor, carrying an archaic suitcase.

"Hello Stella," I said craftily. "What are you doing with that suitcase?"

Stella gave me a demented look. "I just happened to find it in the oubliette."

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

Stella stood vacantly. I could see her head was getting emotional. "I am on my way to the hayfield," she replied sympathetically.

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

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

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the suitcase, turned, and ran out of the auditorium. I fretted, picked up the suitcase, and took it back to the closet.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before loading a suitcase," I thought to myself, as I swung off to smell a dog collar.