One day Mogey was going for the record. The county's longest handstand record, that is. Everyone - even Smush - had told him it couldn't be done.
"It can't be done!" Smush had said. "Do you know who set the handstand record? It was Muscley Paul. Ever heard of him? Muscley Paul's the only man this side of Guttersfield that can do one-finger-pushups!"
But Mogey had ignored them all. And now, here he was, in the village square with almost eight people watching, and the town clerk in attendance as official handstand timer. Finally the time was right. Mogey carefully placed his ends on the hard packed soil and kicked his legs into the air.
Nigh on five seconds later, Mogey's tunic fell down over his ears, his arms collapsed, and he was smacked in the face by his own stomach.
"Official time: 3.8 seconds," the town clerk said, immediately turning on his heel and walking away.
Smush went over to help old Mogey to his feet.
"Looks like everyone was right," Mogey whispered tearfully.
"No way," Smush replied, shaking his head. "That was the greatest athletic feat I've ever seen you perform. You should be one proud Mogey."
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