It was dust devil season and so Mogey and Smush headed out on the range. They both wore their worst waistcoats and trousers and strapped down their spectacles with double-bonded duct tape.
The range was covered with more dust devils than there were horns on a horned toadie and Mogey and Smush rode every one they could catch, hurling themselves into the little twisters only to be spun around and around and then spat out the top. A possibly wise old man had once told them "All manner of objects can be encountered while flying about the inside of a dust devil, you twits!" so Mogey and Smush were careful to see them all: from Cowpoke Tomkins's cowpoker, to the bell from the highest tower of Meiserbrook Castle, to a pleasant young man named Bootsey O'Clure, who had some interesting things to say about the Ashbyville football team.
Finally Mogey and Smush were plum tuckered out, but they were ready for one last dust devil ride. That was when the grandpapa, the big daddy, the mighty-mighty, or as it's called by some, a big dustdevil, happened to strike. Smush caught it almost instantly and was lifted from the ground and up into the swirling vortex, but Mogey, whose plum was just a bit more tuckered than Smush's, couldn't keep up. After a good 40 seconds of spinning, Smush was thrown from the very top of the dust devil and landed next to Mogey wearing nothing but his sunglasses.
"My goodness, Smush," Mogey said, "take my waistcoat and cover yourself! What happened in there?"
"Dust devil season!" Smush answered, giving Mogey a heart slap on the back as he tied the waistcoat about his middle. "Is there anything better?"
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