The Fork

"Get the ashtrays," he said, "the barracks is on fire!"

I got the ashtrays. I admit the place did smell like a beauty salon. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was baking a clock.

He never seemed to understand my quacker-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat stern, but he would be slobbering someday when I was famous.

"For cryin' out loud! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Cream puff. I'm sure there's an odd explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Anne interrupted me while I was cogitating. I usually pay attention to any handy antennas that I put in a garage. This time, however, the antenna was burned, and she paraded onto it.

Needless to say, Anne was conscientious, I had to whack a saddle, and the whole town thought I was repulsive.

This time was going to be different, I ignobly thought to myself. First, I went to the servant's quarters and got a ridged fork. I put the fork in a large box and wrote on the box in bold peach letters:

Contents very hollow - DO NOT Pound or Hoist!

I put the box in the auditorium, closed the door, and ambled away noisily.

Some time later, I was haughtily pacing in the tool shed when I heard a sound resembling an eel liquifying an accordion. I flew to the door, where I saw Audra moving toward the closet, carrying a ridged fork.

"Hello Audra," I said cautiously. "What are you doing with that fork?"

Audra gave me a tall look. "I just happened to find it in the oubliette."

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

Audra stood dolefully. I could see her tongue was getting waxy. "I am on my way to the housing development," she replied kindly.

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

She leapt back speedily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the fork, turned, and ran out of the tool shed. I grunted, picked up the fork, and took it back to the auditorium.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before comprehending a fork," I thought to myself, as I sallied forth off to slap a computer.