The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXLI

One fine spring day Messrs. Mogey and Smush were surveying cottages for their upcoming summer holiday. Seeing as the two had most unique and particular tastes, it was no easy feat finding suitable lodging. They saw cottages that were too squat, too shady, too smelly, too old, too new, too white, and too roomy, but finally they found one they liked.

"This seems to be right up our alley," Smush said.

"Oh thank heavens!" the real estate man sighed.

"Just one thing," Mogey stated, scratching his chin as the real estate man turned toward him fearfully. "How do you get from the first floor to the second?"

"Well sirs, there's a magnificent double staircase in the entryway, clad in centuries-old Persian carpeting..."

"What's that?" Mogey asked. "A rope ladder, you say?"

"Ah, no sir," the man replied. "It's a double staircase that..."

"Mmmm?" Mogey insisted. "A...rope ladder?"

"Y-yes?" the man said hesitantly. "You use a rope ladder to ascend to the second story?"

"Well if all it's got is a rope ladder we'll have to pass," Smush said as Mogey nodded vigorously. "No one wants to climb one of those things every day."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXL

After Mogey and Smush had rescued Lord and Lady Plumpbottom's favorite duckling from sure destruction at the hands of Knuckles, the village wolf, the Lord and Lady invited them to dinner the very next evening. So it was the Mogey and Smush found themselves seated at an exceptionally long table with Lord Plumpbottom on one end, Lady Plumpbottom on the other end, and the duckling, Drew, directly across from them.

"Thank you again for having us," Mogey called out to Lady Plumpbottom.

"Oh please," Lady Plumpbottom replied. "It was the least we could do after you saved our little Drew."

"Would you mind passing the salad, Lord Plumpbottom," Smush yodeled.

"Not at all, young Smush," Lord Plumpbottom said, using his spear to shove the salad bowl down Smush's way.

"Ahhh, I think there's been some mistake," Smush said, staring into the salad. "There's hardly any peperoni in this salad."

"Oh we can have the chef slice you some peperoni," Lord Plumpbottom answered. But Smush was already on his feet.

"This is the thanks we get, sir?" Smush demanded. "We only get peperoni upon request? Even after saving your favorite duckling? You people disgust me! C'mon Mogey, c'mon Drew, we're leaving!" Smush said, taking another turkey leg and storming out of the dining room.

Mogey and Drew exchanged significant looks then returned to their food.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXIX

One autumn night Mogey and Smush were making a midnight snack of tater tots, chocolate chip waffles, and ice cold milk, when Mogey angrily threw down the baking tray.

"I've had it!" he yelled.

"What's wrong, Mogey?" Smush asked.

"I'm sick of eating this kid stuff," Mogey replied. "We're too old for tater tots. We should be eating tater adults!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXVIII

One blustery afternoon Mogey and Smush were up in the crow's nest munching on some hard tack when Smush spotted something off in the distance.

"Look there, Moges!" he said, pointing. "Is that what I think it is?"

"That all depends on what you think it is," Mogey replied.

"I think it's none other than a bald mastodon," Smush answered. "The famous aquatic bald mastodon of Binglebon Creek, to be precise."

"But no one's seen one of those since...since..." Mogey stuttered.

"Since two Tuesdays ago," Smush stated significantly. "I know."

As the ship advanced toward the behemoth floating ahead, Mogey and Smush strained their eyes in hopes of being the first people in weeks to observe an aquatic bald mastodon in its natural habitat, but they were sorely disappointed.

"Aw man, it's just a big white pumpkin," Mogey sighed in disappointment.

"Have faith, Mogey," Smush said, looking off toward the horizon. "The aquatic bald mastodon is out there somewhere. I know it."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXVII

"If you wouldn't mind, Mogey, would you move my chair just a smidge to the left?" Smush asked. "The sun's in my eyes."

"Yes, Sultan," Mogey chirruped, laying down the palm frond he'd been using to fan Smush and turning Smush's chair a tad.

"Thank you," Smush said. "Now Mogey, it's almost your turn to be Six-Minute-Sultan, but remember that I was very nice to you on my turn, so you can't have too many crazy requests."

"Sheesh," Mogey replied. "You don't think I know how to play Six-Minute-Sultan? I invented Six-Minute-Sultan! I know the rules: everyone gets a turn so when it's your turn you must be reasonable."

"Well good," Smush said. Just then, the six minutes set on the egg timer expired with a loud DING. Mogey immediately shoved Smush off the lounge chair.

"Get out of my chair, slave!" Mogey yelled. "Now get me a footstool! On second thought, you be the footstool! Get down on all fours! Now I am hungry, fetch me a smoked beef sandwich and a sarsaparilla! Yah! Yah! Yah!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXVI

One rainy afternoon Mogey and Smush took a walk out to the pig pens. The swine were happy as hogs in the rain: they had an extra hop to their step and their oinks seemed just a little more contented than normal. Mogey and Smush made a lap around the pigsties to make sure everything was hunky dory and then Mogey began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Whatever are you doing, Mogey?" Smush asked.

"Getting ready to do some hog rasslin," Mogey replied. "What'd you think we came out here for?" Sure enough, beneath his overalls, Mogey was wearing his bathing costume.

"To feed the pigs!" Smush said. "What do you want to 'rassle' them for?"

"Cause it's raining," Mogey said, snugging his swimming cap and climbing onto one of the pigpen's corner fenceposts. "And Dunley Burnkroger told me that's the best weather for hog rasslin. Alright piggies, prepare for the Widowmaker!" And Mogey leapt from the top fence post and into the rassling match of his life.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXV

It was the height of summer, and the summer sausage trees were heavy with fruit, so Mogey and Smush had snuck into Killywick's orchard to grab the best of the harvest. It was a dangerous thing sneaking into Killywick's sausage orchard, but Mogey could be awfully persnickety when it came to summer sausage, so they had to get into the high branches before old man Killywick took all the good ones.

"Hurry up, Mogey," Smush urged. Their rucksacks were full to the bursting of prime summer sausage, but Mogey just had to climb one last tree. "Killywick is going to catch us!"

"Hang on!" Mogey whispered. "I've found the best pick of the day up here!" He was straining his arm outwards in an attempt to pluck the most delicious looking piece of meat in the entire orchard when the branch beneath him snapped, sending Mogey tumbling out of the sausage tree and hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Mogey had scarcely landed when they heard the sound of the dogs. It was Killywick himself walking down the row, holding back two snarling pooches who were pulling so hard that they looked about ready to break their collars.

"Get up Mogey!" Smush yelled. "We've got to run!" Mogey scrambled to his feet and grabbed his rucksack as he and Smush took off for the forest beyond the orchard. When Killywick saw them take off he released his hounds who lunged forward and promptly began to feast on the dropsausages that lay everywhere beneath the trees.

Mogey and Smush were serenaded by the sweet sound of old man Killywick cussing a blue streak at his dogs as they leaped the fence and headed for home with another year's supply of summer sausage.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXIV

One evening Mogey and Smush were readying themselves to go to Lord Puddlemun's Gala Supper and Applebob (a yearly tradition held by the baron of their township).

Smush was just making the final adjustments to his coveralls when Mogey came in wearing a bowler hat.

"Well?" Mogey asked. "What do you think?"

Smush cast one sidelong look at his friend's new cap and said, "Mogey, for every minute you keep that on, I'm going to break another one of your 1/100th scale Latvian pony figurines."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXIII

One day Mogey and Smush were out playing stickball when Smush made a tremendous sliding catch. He slid so long and so fast on the seat of his pants that Mogey was sure the trousers would be threadbare by the time Smush finally caught the ball.

When Smush hopped to his feet the pants were still magically intact, but Smush's back left pocket had turned a brilliant shade of red.

"Smush!" Mogey called, running over to him. "What's happened to your backside? Be you alright?" Smush felt his back pocket and sighed.

"Oh I'm fine, Mogey," he said. "But my strawberry's crushed." He pulled out the flattened carcass of the offending berry that had stained his pants.

"Why in the world did you have a strawberry in your pocket?" Mogey demanded.

"For luck," Smush replied. "My great uncle Bertram McBeans used to tell me 'you'll always have a better stickball game if you've got a strawberry in your back left pocket.'"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXII

Early one morning in the dead of winter, Smush was down cellar trying to fix the furnace. Mogey and Smush's house had an old-fashioned whale oil furnace that they'd managed to adapt to run on moose oil, but for some reason it'd gone out in the middle of the night. Smush, who liked his bedchamber nice and cosy, had awoken in the wee hours with frost on his eyelashes, and the previously hot potato he'd taken into bed to warm his feet was frozen rock solid.

Try as he might, Smush could not get the furnace to relight, and in his frustration he stood up too fast, clanging his temple against one of the pipes.

"What are you doing down here, Smush?" Mogey called, holding a candle aloft as he descended the stairs in his nightshirt.

"The furnace went out!" Smush yelled, nursing his head. "I can't tell why it won't go back on."

"Oh I know why that is," Mogey replied nonchalantly. "I stopped up the moose oil tank. You see, I noticed a family of rare Mongolian chickens had moved in there and I didn't want them to get all oily."

"Mongolian chickens?" Smush exclaimed. "What do they look like?"

"Plump, delicious breakfast," Mogey answered.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXXI

One evening Mogey and Smush were walking through Stinkwater Marsh when they came upon a sight most peculiar. Nestled in among the cattails and skunk cabbages was a gathering of tiny, bumpy creatures. Smush quietly raised the lantern higher to get a better look. It seemed that the assembly was comprised mainly of toads - although there were a few salamanders and swampweasels in attendance - and all of them were staring up at stage, upon which the fattest, bumpiest toad of them all was seated. Suddenly, to Mogey and Smush's great surprise, the toad on stage spoke.

"Welcome back to Toad Talk," it said. "I'm your host, Toadman Burnsington. Our next guest is the bestselling author of The Beautiful Toad Inside and Bumps Aren't Warts, Mr. Toadley von Bloofenspiel!"

Here Toadman Burnsington stopped momentarily for applause, but it didn't appear that any of the toad's arms were long enough for clapping, so the only sounds were a ribbit from a nearby treefrog and a snarl from one of the swampweasels.

"Come on Mogey," Smush whispered. "Let's get out of here, it looks like this is going to be a boring episode."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXX

One day Mogey and Smush were flying paper airplanes from the roof of Ms. Murdock's finishing school. The girl that Smush fancied, Dolores Maye Lunderson, was a student at the school, and the woman Mogey fancied, Ms. Murdock, was the proprietor.

Mogey and Smush been gotten into trouble a few times for trying to send notes to their ladyloves: once when Smush had thrown a rather large rock with a love letter written on it through the window of Dolores Maye's class, and again when Mogey had hidden balled up poems inside each and every meatball of the meatball sub Ms. Murdock ordered for lunch. So they were reduced to sneaking on top of the building and attempting to sail notes through the windows on paper airplanes.

"Watch this one, Mogey," Smush said. "This one's going right through Dolores Maye's window to be sure." He launched the airship covered in heartfelt writing off the side of the roof and it sailed down, curling back toward the building, towards the classroom window, and landing right inside the incinerator where it burst into flames with a loud pop. It's a little known fact that every good finishing school has an extremely powerful incinerator out back (mainly for used doilies).

"Too bad, Smush," Mogey said. "But I think this one's got the distance." Mogey loosed another airplane, but they never got to see whether or not it had the distance, because at that moment, the roof door banged open and out stomped Ms. Murdock in a rare fury.

"Mogey and Smush!" she shouted. "Get off of my school!" Her glasses fogged over with anger and her belly shook with wrath as she wagged a rolling pin at them.

"But my dearest Ms. Murdock!" Mogey shouted. "Why must you torment me so? If you won't be with me, how can I go on?"

But Ms. Murdock didn't seem to care. She picked up Mogey by the scruff of his neck and tossed him two stories down into the leaf pile. Smush didn't need to be told twice: he leapt from the roof and fell into the leaves next to his pal.

"Don't worry, Mogey," Smush said as they lay in the leaves. "You'll win her one day. At least she didn't throw you into the nettle thicket this time."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXIX

"I just don't know how anyone could be so foolish," Smush muttered angrily as they walked up the steps to the front door.

"For the last time, I thought the man said to turn to the person on your left and give him a smack," Mogey replied.

"Who confuses the word 'smack' with the word 'juicebox'?" Smush demanded.

"Well how was I to know the give out juiceboxes at town hall meetings?" Mogey said, swinging the door open and heading into the warmth of the kitchen.

"But the person next to you was Constable Hambreth!" Smush shouted as he pulled his snow-encrusted boots off in the foyer. "You embarrassed us in front of the whole town!" Mogey rolled his eyes. "This means no more free pancake breakfasts at the police station on Saturday mornings! We might have to move all over again!"

"Calm down, Smush," Mogey said. "And eat this beef medallion, it'll make you feel much better."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXVIII

One dark evening Mogey and Smush returned home from a hard day's work at the cider mill to see their house being burgled. They would have been angry, except that it wasn't being burgled very well. It appeared that the burglar was trying to smuggle various items out of the house through the chimney, a task that proved difficult since the chimney was old and sooty, and the burglar was a man of rather large proportions. So far the only loot he'd managed to accumulate was an old croquet mallet and a garlic press that smelled of garlic. Presently, the burglar was submerged up to his waste in the chimney, his feet kicking in the air as he attempted to worm his way back down.

"Hey! Burglar!" Smush yelled, dislodging the axe from the chopping block. "Cut that out!"

The burglar popped out of the chimney like a cork pops out of a flat bottle of champagne, that is to say, with great difficulty.

"AAAYYYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" the burglar screamed when he finally emerged. He half-leapt, half-fell from the roof (the way someone who can't see how far his feet are from the edge does), landing face first in the rubbish pile with a loud SPLAT, and waddled off into the forest as fast as his award-winning-pumpkin-sized legs could carry him.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXVII

One sweltering summer's eve, Mogey was scooping a bowl of bananansanity ice cream for Smush and a bowl of butter brickle for himself.

"Hey Smush!" Mogey called. "How many scoops of ice cream do you think I could balance on my nose?"

"Four!" Smush yelled back from the other room.

An hour later, Mogey was staggering beneath the weight of all the ice cream. His face was covered with butter brickle and bananansanity and massive drips rolled down his neck from the monstrous stack of ice cream balanced on his nose. They'd gone outside so Smush could continue to add scoops from the roof.

"One hundred and sixty-seven!" Smush cried as he added another scoop to the enormous pile. "How are you doing this, Mogey?" he asked in disbelief.

"Mogey has the nose strength of an anteater!" Mogey yelled to the heavens. "And everyone should know this!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXVI

One fine May Day, Mogey and Smush were attending the festival down in Bulbousville village. Some came to the May Day festival to dance around the May Pole, others came for Bulbousville's claim to culinary fame: ham hock on a stick. Mogey and Smush, however, came for one reason: the bull pull.

"Are you ready, Mogey?" Smush asked as he and Mogey got their game faces on. "Are you ready?"

"What's that?" Mogey replied in their ritualized manner. "I didn't quite hear you!"

"I said...ARE YOU READY?" Smush repeated.

"Ready? Ready for what?"

"Are you ready...to PULL...THAT...BULL???" Smush yelled. And he and Mogey began jumping up and down, beating their chests like madmen.

Meanwhile, across a pit of mud, a bull stood placidly munching hay. He was ready. A long rope tied around the bull's haunches stretched across the mudpit. Mogey and Smush grabbed the other end and got into their bull pull stances.

"Set?" the judge asked. Mogey and Smush nodded. The bull snorted. "Pull!"

Mogey and Smush heaved with all their might. They strained until their belt loops and shirt buttons popped, and ever so slowly, the bull began to move toward the mud. Mogey and Smush's eyes widened...they pulled harder...could it finally be their year?

No.

Alas, the bull saw a boy walk by with a bag of candied cashews, and being rather partial to this particular snack, lurched forward, throwing Mogey and Smush face first into the mudpit.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXV

One day Mogey and Smush were exploring the old growth forest of Noopelonia when they came across a hat. Mogey, who'd always thought he would look rather dashing in a hat, immediately tried it on. The brim was creased all funny and the top looked like it had once been checkered black and white but was now checkered brown and dark brown.

"How do I look, Smush?" Mogey asked.

"Like you just stood on your head in a stinky swamp," Smush replied. Mogey was about to come back at Smush with an equally hurtful barb when another voice interrupted him.

"Ye'll want to be careful with that hat, youngster," the voice said. It had emanated from a crinkly old man who hobbled towards them clutching an equally crinkly looking walking stick.

"And why is that?" Mogey said.

"Ye've heard the tales of the Staff of Ra?" the crinkly oldy asked. Mogey and Smush both shook their heads but the man ignored them. "Well that there is the Hat of Ba...."

"The Hat of Ba?" Smush demanded. "What sort of tomfoolery is this?"

"Smush!" Mogey shouted, tapping his pal on the shoulder. "Look!"

They turned around to see a flock of sheep larger than any they'd ever seen had gathered in the forest behind them, and every last one was looking up at Mogey expectantly.

"Mogey," Smush said quietly. "Put down the Hat of Ba...and run for the high country!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXIV

One evening Mogey and Smush were sitting around the parlor. Smush was reading a thick book entitled Cultural Advances made by Dwarves and Especially Tall Ladies and Mogey was coloring a picture of a woodchuck playing a banjo and staying mostly inside the lines, too.

"You know what I think I might do?" Smush said. "I think I might make some popcorn."

"Oh..." Mogey replied, his eyes darting hither and thither "...great."

Smush skipped gleefully into the kitchen and returned about half an hour later, handing Mogey a bowl containing a rich stew of corn kernels and Dr. Pepper.

"There you are, Mogey," Smush said. "Fresh-made popcorn! You can't get this stuff just anywhere!"

Mogey screwed his eyes shut and shoveled a small spoonful of "pop-corn" into his mouth. It tasted like licking a carriage wheel that had just rolled through a cemetary.

"One of your best batches yet," Mogey said, trying not grimace. Smush took great pride in his "pop-corn" ever since he'd guessed what it was.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXIII

"Smush?" Mogey asked one damp morning when the two of them were out picking peaches. "What is the funniest thing there is?"

"Ahhh..." Smush sighed. "Long have I waited for you to ask me this, but alas, I have no good answer."

"What would Professor Dangerbuns say if he was here?" Mogey queried.

"He would probably say that it doesn't get much better than a fat lady running across a muddy field," Smush answered.

"Truly he was the greatest teachers in these parts," Mogey said. "And nuttier than a walnut."

"Aye," Smush replied. "Professor Dangerbuns was most definitely the smartest, maddest man ever to get stuck in our well for two weeks."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXII

One frigid day Mogey and Smush were trudging across the unforgiving tundra of the far North. The wind cut like a razorbacked poisontoothed sharpsnouted cobra holding a rustproof titanium alloy carving knife. And it was cold, too.

"Hey Smush!" Mogey yelled. "I've just thought of something!"

"What's that?" Smush asked.

"While we're up here we should try to see the Admirable Snowman!"

"Don't you mean the Abominable Snowman?" Smush cried over the wind's howl.

"Why in the world would we TRY to see someone called the Abominable Snowman?" Mogey replied, shaking his head at Smush's foolishness.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXXI

One fine spring morning around four of the clock, Mogey and Smush were both awakened by whippoorwill. It should be stated that there wasn't much that could rouse Mogey or Smush at four of the clock. In fact, an ambitious young chap by the name of Chonkle Frye once tried to compile a list of loud things that could NOT awaken Mogey and Smush. He had to stop at the E's (Earthquakes, Europeans, and Eagle Attacks, to name a few) because his wrist was so tired.

Anyhow, a whippoorwill was on the miniscule list of things that COULD wake Mogey and Smush up from a sound slumber. Luckily the pals knew exactly how to deal with such a menace.

"Whip! Poor! Will!" the lonely bird cried. "Whip! Poor! Will!"

"Hey Will!" Smush called from his room. "You're due for the whippin' of your life!"

"Oh noooooo!" Mogey called back from his room.

"Whip? Poor? Will?" the whippoorwill called interestedly.

For the next five minutes Smush proceeded to crack the bullwhip he always kept in his night table while Mogey feigned the loud groaning noises of a Will being whipped.

"Whip...poor...will..." the whippoorwill said with a satisfied air once Smush had stopped. "Whip...poor...will." And the birdy flapped off into the forest in search of more Wills in need of whippings while Mogey and Smush retired for another nine hours of well-deserved rest.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXX

One day Mogey and Smush were having a yard sale. All sorts of bits and bobs were laid out on the pasture out back and throughout the day a steady stream of neighbors came through to peruse the goods. Around midafternoon Smush noticed one customer appraising an item that was particularly close to his heart.

"Good morrow, sir," Smush said. "I see you're admiring that authentic Mongol war helmet."

"War helmet?" the man replied. "You mean this bucket?"

"How dare you say such a thing!" Smush exclaimed. "That, sir, is an authentic Mongol war helmet worn in the Battle of Hoogetyboots by my great great great grandfather, who was himself a Mongol!"

"I dunno..." the man said. "Still looks like a bucket to me."

"What is your name, sir?" Smush demanded. "I'll have you banned from this place! Banned I say!"

"Bunson Blurp," the man said. "And you've just made yourself a sale."

Bunsen Blurp forked over some monies and walked away, happily clutching his new authentic Mongol war helmet.

"Smush," Mogey said when Bunsen Blurp was gone, "why did you have to sell our best berrying pail?"

"With the gold he just paid me we can buy a dozen berrying pails," Smush replied. "Plus a full rack of honey glazed baby back ribs."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXIX

One brisk fall day Mogey and Smush were in the forest for some white tail deer riding. The way white tail deer riding worked was this: Mogey and Smush would perch like slimey old crones in the low branches of a tree and wait for a deer to run beneath. Time the jump up correctly and you'd get a 5-15 second ride of insanity. Unfortunately, Mogey and Smush could only do this on especially brisk fall days because otherwise the deer's backs would get all sweaty. It didn't make it any harder to ride, but who wants deer sweat all over his pants?

On this particular fall day, Mogey made one of the more deadly white tail deer riding errors a person could make. He was in his slimey old crone crouch when he heard the thundering of hooves in the undergrowth. Smush shot Mogey a meaningful look, the meaning of which was essentially "Game Time".

Then the biggest deer Mogey had ever seen came barrelling past. This was because it wasn't a deer so much as it was a moose. And as any good white tail deer rider knows, you never, ever, attempt to ride a moose. Mogey knew this old adage well, but before he'd realized the full mooseyness of the creature beneath him, it was too late and he'd already jumped. He landed in perfect deer riding position atop the moose's wirey-haired back.

The behemoth immediately skidded to a halt. As Smush watched in horror from up a tree and Mogey sat in horror on the creature's monstrous back, the moose slowly craned his head around to face Mogey snout to nose.

And it's no mystery what happened then.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXVIII

One spring morning that couldn't be beat, Mogey and Smush were walking into town to buy some rhubarb seeds for their garden when they encountered the most unlikely creature.

"Psst," Mogey pssted. "Smush, is that a platypus?"

Sure enough, walking toward them on the old country road was a platypus wearing corduroys and a ball cap.

"Hi there, little fella," Smush said, petting the platypus's back. Platypi are known to enjoy being a nice back petting.

"Getoffa me!" the platypus screamed, fishhooking Smush in both nostrils and kicking Mogey in the shin for good measure.

Turns out...it wasn't a platypus at all. It was "Beaks" MacNamera, the short, hairy lead singer of the village choir, whose nose and chin were so flat and broad that in the right light, he appeared to have duck bill.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CXVII

"Hey Smush!" Mogey called as Smush came down the stairs one morning for breakfast. "I've got a new breakfast invention, want to try it?"

"Mehhhh..." said Smush, who'd tried Mogey's breakfast creations before.

"This one will be good!" Mogey insisted. "I guarantee it'll be the best breakfast you've had outside of your Grandmama Bertie's House O' Muffins."

"Alright," Smush replied. "Serve it up."

Mogey proceeded to pour a large bowl of ice cold milk and spoon into it no less than fourteen teaspoons of sugar and a large dollop of honey.

"Dig in," Mogey said, setting the bowl down in front of his pal. "I call this dish 'milk soup'."