One evening round about twilight, Mogey and Smush were traveling along when they came upon the most ogredly ogre that ever has been or ever will be. So ogredly was this ogre that his name was Ogre. Ogre P. Willingham.
"Give me yer gold, ye scallywags!" Ogre P. Willingham demanded.
"Have you got any gold, Mogey?" Smush asked. Mogey shook his head.
"All I've got is this Susan B Anthony twenty cent piece," he said.
"Sorry," Smush told the Ogre. "We're fresh out of gold."
"You blackhearted scoundrels," Ogre P. Willingham said. "How will I ever get enough for a Cheesy Gordita Crunch if all anyone has are Susan B Anthony twenty cent pieces?"
And Ogre P. Willingham ran off into the undergrowth with his tail between his legs and no one ever heard from him again.
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