I had settled down with the evening newspaper in my favorite chair with a fresh scone. Mr. Chips (having already finished his scone) was prowling around the flat looking for a suitable napping place. After many minutes of his pacing I ventured to suggest he try the window seat. He explained that it was a dandy suggestion, but that the window seat was too firm, that he needed a plusher surface. Thinking quickly I procured his favorite cashmere blanket and proceeded to create a very cozy nest for him on the window seat. He immediately found the situation to his liking and said he was greatly obliged for my assistance and then promptly fell asleep.

No sooner than had I picked up my paper, the front door opened. An odd looking fellow with brown-blonde hair, average build, and clad only in boxer shorts promptly invited himself in. He introduced himself as Taylor (apparently our new next-door neighbor). I congenially introduced Mr. Chips (who hadn't bothered to wake-up) and myself. Taylor guffaw/laughed and replied that Mr. Chips reminded him of his brother's pet wharf rat back home (At which Mr. Chips opened one eye and glared in a caustic manner, but I don't believe Taylor noticed).

Taylor came into our flat and sat down, helped himself to a scone, all the while conversing of his dreams to play football and become a famous singer. I nodded to show my interest as I continued to peruse the paper.

After polishing off two scones (Much to both my and Mr. Chips' chagrin) and a glass of orange juice, Taylor excused himself. He said he needed to introduce himself to the ladies of the apartment building. I nodded as he stepped out the door, and I listened as he belched while walking down the hall.

I looked at Mr. Chips and shrugged my shoulders. I was quite dumbfounded by the whole visit. But Mr. Chips (ever the thinker) had two suggestions: Buy a new deadbolt and hide all of our scones.