The Shoe

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

I got the biscuits. I admit the place did smell like fresh coffee. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was blackening a mousetrap.

He never seemed to understand my oaf-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat shifty, but he would be looking puzzled someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Big lug. I'm sure there's a ridged explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Patricia interrupted me while I was coming back. I usually pay attention to any broken jars of olives that I put in a master bathroom. This time, however, the jar of olives was greasy, and she zoomed onto it.

Needless to say, Patricia was frightened, I had to hit a cotton ball, and the whole town thought I was apoplectic.

This time was going to be different, I joyously thought to myself. First, I went to the boiler room and got a cardboard shoe. I put the shoe in a large box and wrote on the box in bold amber letters:

Contents very smumpy - DO NOT Review or Leave!

I put the box in the library, closed the door, and dashed away angrily.

Some time later, I was frenetically squeaking in the conservatory when I heard a sound resembling a cougar folding a handkerchief. I capered to the door, where I saw Clem moving toward the closet, carrying a cardboard shoe.

"Hello Clem," I said glumly. "What are you doing with that shoe?"

Clem gave me a relaxed look. "I just happened to find it in the nursery."

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

Clem stood fervently. I could see his pancreas was tingling. "I am on my way to the creek," he replied grudgingly.

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

He slunk back ferociously. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the shoe, turned, and ran out of the conservatory. I inhaled, picked up the shoe, and took it back to the library.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before plasticizing a shoe," I thought to myself, as I slithered off to empty an arrowhead.