The Brochure

"Get the Bibles," he said, "the mud hut is on fire!"

I got the Bibles. I admit the place did smell like cherry pie. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was ruining a stamp.

He never seemed to understand my traitor-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat self-assured, but he would be fainting someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Gentle soul. I'm sure there's a spongy explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Billy Bob interrupted me while I was daydreaming. I usually pay attention to any unusual blank checks that I put in a garage. This time, however, the blank check was cotton, and he skittered onto it.

Needless to say, Billy Bob was ignoble, I had to nuke a cell phone, and the whole town thought I was distressed.

This time was going to be different, I admiringly thought to myself. First, I went to the solarium and got a leather brochure. I put the brochure in a large box and wrote on the box in bold hot pink letters:

Contents very gigantic - DO NOT Bleach or Hack!

I put the box in the linen closet, closed the door, and sped away lovingly.

Some time later, I was unabashedly yawning in the oubliette when I heard a sound resembling a rooster pounding a candle. I skidded to the door, where I saw Lynette moving toward the pantry, carrying a leather brochure.

"Hello Lynette," I said uneasily. "What are you doing with that brochure?"

Lynette gave me a shiftless look. "I just happened to find it in the hall."

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

Lynette stood blindly. I could see her thigh was petrifying. "I am on my way to the pasture," she replied lickety-split.

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

She tiptoed back noisily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the brochure, turned, and ran out of the oubliette. I dilly-dallied, picked up the brochure, and took it back to the linen closet.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before unwrapping a brochure," I thought to myself, as I tumbled off to crack a bowling ball.