"Have you noticed that the cellar snargleblat is getting a little creaky?" Mogey asked Smush one sunny afternoon.
"The, the what?" Smush asked.
"The snargleblat, down cellar," Mogey said. "It's getting a little creaky, I think we need to put some WD-40 on it."
"What on earth is a snargleblat?" Smush asked with furrowed brow.
"What do you mean what is a snargleblat?" Mogey asked with his typical incredulity. "A snargleblat is a snargleblat is a snargleblat, there's just no other word for it. This is stuff you learn in nursery school."
Smush was about to inform Mogey that he had never been to nursery school but instead had gone on a vision quest at the ripe age of 3, but he was interupted by the dramatic entrance of an amorous woodland possum, who locked onto Mogey's face and proceeded to attempt to tongue kiss him.
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