The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 480

Mogey and Smush were out riding llamas one steamy summer day when low and behold, a geyser erupted not twenty feet away from them. Never one to miss an opportunity to ride a geyser, Smush hopped from his llama, Claude, atop the rushing fountain of water.

As Smush landed at the very top of the geyser, the water level began to sink, smushed by Smush himself. Soon it had descended underground, leaving Smush sitting in the path, plugging the geyser hole with his generous hind parts.

"Did the geyser stop?" Mogey asked.

"Come have a look," Smush replied.

As Mogey bent down to look at the source of the waterspout, Smush shifted his weight, sending a huge spurt of pressurized water straight at his pal. The geyser hit Mogey square in the chest, flinging him more than a league into the air, and sending Claude the llama into a fit of laughter so hysterical he nearly suffocated on his own neck fur.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 479

For once, Mogey and Smush's team, The Gnashers, was not losing horribly in the annual Winter Wonderland Hockey Battle Royale. In fact, The Gnashers were all tied up with their arch-enemies, Team Stink, and the game headed for a shoot-out.

All three Team Stink shooters made their shots, but Smush and Gnashers defenseman Pete Buckingham matched them, leaving the fate of the game up to Mogey.

"Be careful, Mogey," Smush said, gesturing to Team Stink's goalkeeper, Enormo Puckocity, "their goalie is quite a phenom."

"Have no fear - I got this," Mogey replied, but on the inside he was quaking with both fear and hunger.

And then it was time. Mogey began skating down the ice as Enormo Puckocity seemed to grow to an even more colossal size inside the net. Just as Mogey was about to unleash a dazzling slapshot, he noticed a boy in the stands putting mustard onto the plumpest hot dog he had ever seen. The distraction was enough to throw off Mogey's shot, sailing the puck straight into Enormo Puckocity's glove, where the Team Stink goalie crushed it into a fine powder.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 478

One morning, Mogey had put the tea kettle on and was buttering some crumpets for his breakfast. As his butter knife descended on the seventh or eighth crumpet, the round little pastry leapt into the air and began rolling across the table.

"Please don't put that butter on me!" the crumpet shrieked. "Other than jam, butter is the spread that we crumpets fear most!"

"Holy mackerel!" exclaimed Smush, who had been sitting nearby. "A talking crumpet!"

"Indeed," Mogey replied, carefully snatching the crumpet off the table top.

"Just think," Smush said dreamily, rising to his feet and pacing about the room, "we'll never have to work again. We'll travel the land charging top dollar for people to see this little fellow. We'll sell popcorn, and t-shirts, and lunch boxes, and--"

CHOMP!

"Mogey," Smush said without turning toward his pal, "please tell me you did not just eat that magical talking crumpet."

"But... I already ate the other ones," Mogey said, swallowing a large mouthful. "And I was still hungry!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 477

One blustery grey day, Mogey and Smush were hauling a wagon-load of firecrackers down to the flea market. Or, more accurately, their pack mule, Stephen was hauling the wagon as Mogey and Smush walked nearby, guiding him down the old dirt path.

"Say, Mogey," Stephen said after a while. "Would you mind loosening this bridle just a smidge? It's chafing my neck something fierce."

"Hey, I didn't know you could talk!" Mogey exclaimed.

"Yep," said Stephen.

"What else don't we know about you?" Smush asked.

"Well," Stephen replied, "my birthday is September the 5th, I'm a Welsh pony, not a pack mule, and - I know this is going to sound strange - I absolutely detest oats."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 476

"For the life of me I cannot solve this puzzle!" Mogey shouted, vigorously licking his lips in frustration. "It's impossible, I tell you. Impossible!"

"That's no puzzle," Smush replied, barely looking up from his home economics textbook. "You're looking at the funny pages from the Sunday paper."

"What?" Mogey retorted. "You don't find these puzzling?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 475

On a cold winter's night, Mogey and Smush were preparing to go carolling. Smush had gotten everything ready: a thermos of hot chocolate, a book of traditional Christmas songs, and a festive bullwhip to keep the reindeer in line. Now he was just waiting for Mogey to hurry up and get dressed.

Just when Smush was about to give up and start in on the cocoa himself, Mogey came barrelling downstairs dressed in his holiday finest.

"Say, Mogey, is that a scarf?" Smush asked.

"Isn't it lovely?" Mogey replied proudly. "I never thought of myself as much of a scarf fellow, but it's actually quite comfortable."

"You know scarves are meant to be worn around the neck, right?" Smush said.

"So I've heard," Mogey answered. "But I prefer wrapping it around my arm - that way I can wear my sleeveless t-shirts all year round!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 474

"How many dang steak tips are you going to eat?" Smush demanded as Mogey returned from the all-you-can-eat buffet with yet another tray piled with meat.

"As many as it takes," Mogey replied, tucking a napkin into his collar.

"As many as it takes to what?"

"You know something, Smush?" Mogey said around a mouthful of steak tip. "You just don't get me sometimes."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 473

Of all the things Mogey held dear in the world - and there were exactly six - the dearest of all was his pocketwatch. He claimed the watch had been passed down through many generations of Mogeys before him, through wars, famines, and an especially bad outbreak of goose flu. So protective was Mogey of the pocketwatch that even Smush, his best pal in the world, had never laid eyes on it.

One day, Mogey and Smush were playing on the monkeybars in the park when Mogey took a bit of a spill. While trying to get to the third bar (a feat he'd never before achieved), Mogey slipped and landed flat on his back.

"Stay with me, Smush," Mogey groaned, wincing in pain. "I think this is the end... I see a white light."

"Jeez Louise, Mogey," Smush sighed, "you just got the wind knocked out of you!"

"One final request, my friend!" Mogey pleaded, clutching Smush's hand. "Would you hand me my pocketwatch?"

"Good lord," Smush said in exasperation as he tried to extricate the watch from Mogey's jacket. He pulled the simple gold chain from Mogey's breast pocket, revealing the timepiece for the very first time. "I don't understand, Mogey," Smush declared. "This isn't a watch at all. It's just the top of a ketchup bottle with numbers and hands drawn on it in permanent marker."

"Aye," Mogey whispered weakly. "Is that not what a watch is?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 472

"I've done it!" Mogey cried, bursting through the front door and grabbing Smush in a bear hug. "I've finally gotten a job!"

"That's fantastic," Smush replied, casually trying to extricate himself from Mogey's grasp. "What, er, what will you be doing?"

"You know Mr. Whalings, the potter who lives up the way?" Mogey asked. "I'm going to be his assistant. Mainly I just have to turn his pottery wheel and tend to the kiln and such."

"Ah," said Smush. "Well it sounds like a job you'll be quite well suited for."

"And that's not even the best part!" Mogey explained. "He's paying me fourpence an hour, plus all the clay I can eat!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 471

"What'd you have for lunch today, Mogey?" Smush asked one afternoon as he saw Mogey brushing crumbs off his cumberbund.

"A BLT," Mogey replied with a hefty sigh.

"Oh," said Smush. "But none of the tomatoes seem to be missing. Did you get it down at the sangwich shop?"

"Tomatoes?" Mogey retorted disgustedly. "What would I want with tomatoes on a BLT?"

"Well, they would seem to be a crucial ingredient in a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sangwich," Smush asserted.

"BLT stands for Bacon, Limburger, and Taco meat," Mogey replied. "You know, Smush, sometimes you're so pudding-headed I worry sugarplums are going to start falling out of your ears. Bacon, lettuce, and tomato... ha!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 470

One afternoon in the midst of a howling gale, Smush stumbled outside in his rain slicker and galoshes to tend to the chickens (who went completely ape during storms). On his way back from the chicken coop, Smush encountered Mogey, who was wearing a tri-cornered hat and flying a kite.

"What in the world are you doing, Mogey?" Smush yelled above the sound of the wind.

"Lightning experiments!" Mogey replied.

"Don't you know someone already discovered electricity this way?" Smush cried.

"What's electricity?" Mogey asked. "I just like the nice tingly feeling I get every time lightning hits the kite!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 469

Mogey and Smush climbed the dusty stairs of St. Banana's Monastery on a cool day in late spring. The monastery sat beside the village square, and every week Mogey and Smush mounted the long spiral staircase in order to pay tribute to the Blurtle.

"Blurrrrtle," Smush called when they reached the belfry. "Are you there, Blurtle?"

With astonishing quickness, a rotund little man scurried out of the shadows to stand before them.

"Here you are," Smush said, presenting the Blurtle with a box of chocolate cake, "my tribute for the week. Give him your tribute now, Mogey."

"Behhh," Mogey replied, wiping crumbs from his mouth, "I'm through with this tribute business! I don't care what you blurt about me, Blurtle. Do your worst!"

Mogey and Smush weren't even out of the St. Banana's courtyard before they heard the Blurtle's voice booming out of the bell tower, so loud the entire village could hear.

"Hear ye, hear ye!" the Blurtle cried. "Mogey steals candy from the bulk candy aisle! And he has the biggest bottom in the entire county!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 468

One morning, Smush walked outside in his bathrobe to find Mogey digging a hole in the back garden. The hole was several feet deep already, but Mogey stood at the bottom, covered head to toe in dirt and tossing out shovelful after shovelful.

"Say Mogey," Smush said, sipping his cup of tea, "whatcha doing?"

"Digging a hole to China," Mogey replied without stopping.

"Oh," said Smush. "Well bring me back some szechuan beef, will you?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 467

Mogey and Smush were at the drugstore one day in search of a cure for their mutual pepper allergy. No matter how careful they were, anytime Mogey cooked his signature pepper-encrusted peppers both of them would end up sneezing their heads off.

After half an hour of searching the various pills and powders the drugstore had to offer with little success, Mogey and Smush were startled to see a rhinoceros stumble through the door, looking ornery as all get-out.

"Whoa, Mr. Rhinoceros," Mogey said cautiously as the rhino's horn swung dangerously close to his shoulder. "We mean you no harm. Please don't hurt us!"

"Are you crazy, Mogey?" the rhinoceros replied. "I'm no rhino! Don't you recognize me? It's Mr. Snelling."

"Mr. Snelling our Sunday School teacher?" Smush asked incredulously.

"The same," the rhinocerosy Mr. Snelling replied.

"Oh," Mogey said sheepishly. "Boy, that must be some head cold you have."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 466

One chilly winter's night, Mogey and Smush were regaling a big crowd at their local pub with the classic tale of Jeremiah Snausage and the stolen pie.

"...and then Jeremiah Snausage returned to Mrs. Brottington's bakery a third time!" Mogey was elaborating. "And he was after a lemon meringue, the final pie in Mrs. Brottington's Great Pie Trilogy. This time, however, Mrs. Brottington was waiting for him. As soon as Jeremiah Snausage peeped over her windowsill she came chasing after him with a bowling pin."

"A bowling pin?" asked one of the listeners on. "Don't you mean a rolling pin?"

"No sir," Mogey replied. "It was indeed a bowling pin, for Mrs. Brottington's bakery stood just next door to Mr. Brottington's bowling alley."

"Though you do have a point," Smush interjected. "The Brottington's were all about sharing resources between their two business ventures. Mrs. Brottington did in fact use a bowling pin to roll out her dough, and bowling alley grease gave her pie crust its signature tang."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 465

Mogey and Smush climbed to the tip top of Belly Flop Cliff and surveyed their surroundings. Forty feet directly down, the restless sea crashed into the base of the cliff, and as far as the nose could smell, the scent of squid guts pervaded the air.

Nervously adjusting their bathing suits, Mogey and Smush prepared themselves to take a leap of faith from the cliff as so many youths had before them. Just as they were about to jump, a diminutive winged man appeared beside them.

"Hold it just a minute there, fellows," the man said fluttering his wings to hover nearby.

"What's your name, Mr. Fairy?" Mogey asked.

"The name's Putter Okelokamugooly," the man replied. "And I'm no fairy!"

"Then what are you?" Smush queried.

"So I'm a fairy, alright?" Putter Okelokamugooly said, scratching his rather enormous belly. "I'm here to caution you about cliff diving. Does the term 'low tide' mean anything to you?"

"Not at all," Smush replied.

"Low what?" Mogey asked.

"Well, it's not safe to dive this time of day," Putter Okelokamugooly said with a sigh. "Unless, of course, you are willing to belly flop."

"Sheesh!" Mogey interjected. "Get lost, will you? We were planning to belly flop anyway."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 464

"Alright now, Mogey, open wide," said Dr. Jeremiah Twinkle, Dentist at Law.

Mogey opened his mouth and Dr. Twinkle took a close look inside.

"Hmm..." Dr. Twinkle said, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"What's the matter, Doc?" asked Smush, who was sitting to the side of the operating room. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm not quite sure," the doctor replied, lowering his voice to a whisper as he addressed Smush. "He doesn't have any teeth."

"It's true," Mogey stated. "I've lost every last tooth in saltwater taffy-related incidents."

"But in your patient interview you told me you eat steak at least twice a week!" Dr. Twinkle replied.

"I do," Mogey said. "I just sort of gum it down."

"I see," said Dr. Twinkle. "So if you haven't any teeth, then why are you here, exactly?"

"I was hoping you could help me grow some!" Mogey answered. "That's what you do, isn't it?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 463

One afternoon, Mogey came into the kitchen to find Smush staring at a heaping plate of flapjacks with a perplexed look on his face. Normally "perplexed" was the last thing in the world Smush felt when he encountered flapjacks, and so Mogey was concerned for his pal.

"Everything hunky dory there, Smush?" Mogey asked.

"No it isn't," Smush replied, his frown deepening. "I've cooked up these flapjacks for Sweetie Malloy, but I seem to have forgotten something. You see, Miss Malloy doesn't like syrup on her flapjacks, so I've sprinkled them with cinnamon and nutmeg, but I do believe they need one more spice."

"Good thing your old pal Mogey is here to save the day," Mogey said, clapping Smush on the back. "It's perfectly obvious what spice you forget to add."

"Yes?" Smush answered gratefully. "What is it?"

"Chocolate frosting of course!" Mogey replied. "A bit of frosting on each flapjack and Sweetie Malloy will fall madly in love with you."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 462

Mogey and Smush rode their Conestoga wagon across the land, over hill and dale, en route to what was supposedly a really fun polka festival. On occasion their route forced them to pass through a tunnel, but tunnels in those days were extremely dangerous. Collapses were common, and many of the older passages were held up only by chewing gum, duct tape, and cupcake wrappers.

Being the superstitious lad he was, Smush would reign the oxen in at every tunnel, coming to a halt just before the entrance. He would hop spryly from the wagon, spit on the ground, and then climb cheerfully back up into the driver's seat.

"I must ask you, Smush," Mogey said as his pal performed this ritual for the umpteenth time, "where did you learn such an odd tradition? Do you really think spitting will bring us luck?"

"I don't spit for luck," Smush replied. "I've just had this terrible taste in my mouth since we passed through Timbuktu. I think it might've been that anchovy and mustard turnover I ate."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 461

"Oy, Smush," Mogey called, catching his pal clambering out of the aboveground pool in the back yard. "I've got a great new game for us to play."

"Sensational!" Smush exclaimed as he extracted several small rock crabs from his unruly mane of hair. "What's the game?"

"It's called mumblety-peg," Mogey replied. "And apparently it's a hoot and a three quarters. You take this jack-knife, see? And you have to throw it into the ground as hard as you can, with the goal of landing it as close to your foot as possible."

"I see," Smush said, nodding sagely. "And what do you get, supposing you win the game?"

"Well," Mogey answered. "Supposing you throw the knife closer in than I do -- without stabbing your foot of course --."

"Of course," Smush reiterated.

"If you do that, then your prize is pretty special," Mogey continued. "You win the privilege of playing another game of mumblety-peg!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 460

One afternoon, Mogey flopped down onto the sofa, only to find himself lying on the softest, most comfortable thing he'd ever felt. After falling asleep six times, Mogey finally managed to extract the object from underneath his back.

"I see you like my new pillow," Smush said, striding into the room as Mogey examined the delightful cushion.

"Smush, this is literally the softest thing I've ever felt!" Mogey exclaimed.

"Well it ought to be," Smush replied with a grin. "It's made from the fur of five hundred baby chinchillas."

"No! Smush, you didn't?" Mogey whimpered.

"Don't worry, laddie," Smush said. "I didn't hurt the chinchillas. I shaved them."

"That must've taken ages," Mogey conjectured.

"Sure did," Smush replied. "But the shaving was nothing compared to getting the little buggers to leave. You should try shooing five hundred bald chinchillas out of your cellar sometime. It is not fun."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 459

"Mogey, what are you doing?" Smush asked as he came upon his pal wearing a green bandanna and rummaging through the icebox.

"Today, I am not Mogey," Mogey replied. "I am Brock O'Lee, veggie-wielding action hero!"

"You are?" Smush said, rolling his eyes. "So what do you do, exactly?"

"I use vegetables to fight crime!" Mogey answered proudly. "For instance, I might take this tomato here, and throw it into the eyes of a bank-robbing villain."

"That's all well and good," Smush remarked, "but a tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable."

"Ah," Mogey replied, "right you are. Well then perhaps I would fashion a club out of this cucumber..."

"Sorry Mogey," Smush chimed in, "but cucumbers are fruits as well."

"Then maybe I'd use a pepper to--"

"Fruit!" Smush interrupted.

"Darn it..." Mogey muttered. "Isn't anything a vegetable? Or will Brock O'Lee have to fight crime weaponless?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 458

"Psst!" Smush hissed at Mogey over his schoolbooks. "Cut out that doodling, Mogey! You're going to get us kicked out of class!"

"Why?" Mogey whispered back. "You're doing it too!"

"I'm not doodling," Smush retorted. "I'm taking notes."

"Notes?" Mogey asked. "What in the world are notes?"

"I write down whatever the teacher says so that I can read it again later," Smush answered.

"You actually listen to the teacher?" Mogey exclaimed. "Smush, that's highly dangerous. My nana told me that if I look into the eyes of a teacher, the teacher will imprison my soul in a jack-in-the-box and I'll have to hum 'Pop Goes the Weasel' for the rest of my days!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 457

"Hey Smush, check out my new pogo stick," Mogey said, proudly handing the shiny device to his pal. "But be careful with that, it's not a toy."

"I'm fairly sure that's exactly what it is," Smush replied, giving the pogo stick a few cursory jumps.

"Nuh-uh," Mogey insisted. "My livelihood depends on that pogo stick. It's my principal mode of transportation."

"You use this thing to get to work in the morning?" Smush exclaimed. "It must take ages!"

"Not at all," Mogey said. "I can cover two miles by pogo in just under three hours. That's almost two times faster than hopping to work on foot!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 456

"I'll take a half-and-half, barkeep!" Mogey said one afternoon as he and Smush had stepped into the local pub for some refreshments.

"And I'll have a cherry soda," Smush chimed in. The bartender grunted in response and soon plunked a full mug down before each of them.

Mogey took a large gulp, made a horrible face, and sprayed a mouthful of liquid onto the mirror behind the bar.

"Ugh! " Mogey groaned. "What is this?"

"It's half-and-half, just like you ask for!" the dismayed bartender replied. "Half dark beer and half light!"

"Well it's horrible," Mogey said. "I was referring to the dairy version of a half-and-half. Duh."

The frustrated bartender poured Mogey a frosty new mug and set it in front of him. Once again Mogey took a large gulp, and once again he sprayed it out of his mouth, all over a nearby couple this time.

"This is awful too!" Mogey shrieked, wiping his tongue off with a napkin.

"But I made you a dairy half-and-half," the bartender insisted. "Half milk and half cream."

"What a dreadful sounding combination," Mogey replied. "Where I come from, a half-and-half is half cream, and the other half is cream as well."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 455

In the center of Parsonsville there stood a monument to the town's primary industry: pacifier manufacturing. The monument consisted of an enormous brass sculpture of a baby pacifier, and among townspeople it was known as "The Brassifier."

"One of these days, Mogey," Smush muttered as they walked past The Brassifier one wintry evening. "One of these days I'm going to steal that grand sculpture and put it on my mantle."

"Why not tonight?" Mogey replied. "Constable Clonker's wife cooked liver'n'sauerkraut for dinner, so you know he won't be leaving the table anytime soon."

"You're completely right!" Smush replied. "Tonight that great brass binkie can be ours at last!"

Mogey and Smush quickly liberated The Brassifier from its normal perch, and finding it stupendously heavy, were forced to drag it all the way home. The sculpture had only been in their possession a few hours when Mogey and Smush heard a loud knock at the door.

"Give back The Brassifier!" was Constable Clonker's sauerkraut-scented howl when Smush opened the door. "Who do you two knuckleheads think you are?"

"Have mercy!" Smush pleaded, falling to his knees. "How did you know it was us?"

"Well for one, you're the only troublemakers in town who would try something like this," Constable Clonker replied, peering over Smush's shoulder at The Brassifier, which lay beneath the remains of their collapsed mantle. "But there's also a three-inch deep groove in the dirt road leading from town square all the way to your front door."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 454

On a summer day when the sky was bright blue and dotted with fluffy clouds, Mogey and Smush were striding through a hayfield en route to the County-Wide Everything-Must-Go All-You-Can-Carry Beef Jerky Clearance Sale.

"I say, Smush," Mogey spoke up at the hay stalks crunched beneath their feet, "today would be a perfect day for a bit of cloud-riding."

"What in the world is cloud-riding?" Smush asked.

"Allow me to demonstrate," Mogey replied. He took a deep breath and let out a piercing whistle, at which a small cloud zoomed straight out of the sky and parked itself right in front of them. Mogey hopped aboard and the cloud held his weight as though it was a floating sofa. "That's how it's done!" Mogey said. "You give it a try now, Smush." And he sped off atop his fluffy white steed.

Smush was as befuddled by Mogey's antics as ever, but he figured there was nothing else for it. Breathing in as deeply as he could, Smush stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. Sure enough, another little cloud came to an abrupt halt just beside him.

Emboldened by his whistling success, Smush took a running start and leaped atop the cloud, only to fall right through it and land painfully on the ground below.

"What are you doing, Smush?" Mogey called, reappearing as quickly as he had left. "You've got to give the cloud a pat in the hind parts and snap your fingers twice before you hop on! Sheesh, do I have to tell you everything?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 453

"Goodbye!" Smush called to the butcher as he and Mogey exited the shop with three pounds of finest beef brisket for their afternoon snack.

"You know, Smush, I've been thinking," Mogey said. "It's high time we stopped using that tired old word 'goodbye,' and switched to something sleeker and more sophisticated."

"What about 'farewell?'" Smush asked. "Or 'cheerio?'"

"Nah," Mogey said dismissively, "I've got a new word of my own devising. Are you excited to hear it?"

"Meh," Smush replied.

"I knew you would be," Mogey continued. "The new Mogey special is... 'toodeloo!'"

"What?" Smush rejoined. "You didn't make that up - it's already a word! In fact, Great Uncle Magooly sent us on our way with a toodeloo when we visited him last Tuesday!"

"Smush," Mogey responded slowly, "I've learned some bizarre facts of science and philosophy in my day, but you literally just blew my mind."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 452

One afternoon, Mogey and Smush were working on their tree house when a red-billed dorkbird alighted on a nearby branch. The dorkbird was a good foot taller than Mogey and Smush, and like all dorkbirds, he was on a never-ending search for raisins.

"Get outta here, dorkbird!" Mogey shouted, attempting to shoo it away with a broom.

"Dork, dork, dork?" said the dorkbird, by which it meant "you guys got any raisins?"

"Get lost, I say!" Mogey yelled again.

"Dork, dork, dork?" said the dorkbird.

"Ain't no raisins here," Smush stated quietly as he cocked his Winchester 12-gauge pump-action shotgun. "You'd best be moving along."

At that the red-billed dorkbird took off and flapped away faster than a Swede who just chugged a quart of hot sauce.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 451

"Are you ready?" Smush asked, holding Mogey's tire in place at the top of Phil Hill.

"It's time for me to be a man," Mogey replied, strapping on his driving goggles. He gripped the sides of the tire tightly as he stared down from Phil Hill's dusty summit. "Let's do this!"

Smush gave Mogey's tire a small push; it tipped over the edge of the hill and began to roll. The huge rubber donut went slowly at first, but it picked up speed at a remarkable rate. By the time it was halfway down, even the smallest bumps were propelling Mogey's tire dozens of feet into the air.

Finally, Mogey came to a crashing halt against one of Farmer Moogin's enormous hay bales. For a moment, Smush was worried that something dreadful had happened to his pal, but after a few seconds Mogey got to his feet and began lugging the tire back up Phil Hill.

"How was it?" Smush asked when Mogey neared the top.

"Horribly painful," Mogey said.

"You know, I was thinking," Smush interjected. "Most of the other kids seem to ride on the inside of the tire. Maybe you should try that next time."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 450

One misty morning, Mogey and Smush were walking through the Enchanted Forest of Blurch as tottens flitted overhead mounted upon their bird steeds. The tottens were a mysterious race of people who stood but three inches high and lived only in the Enchanted Forest of Blurch. Supposedly they tasted pretty darn good on bagel, but magic spells protected them within the confines of the forest.

"Say Smush," Mogey said as they ambled along, "these tottens ride around on some pretty boss creatures. What would you ride if you were a totten?"

"Probably an ivory billed woodpecker," Smush replied. "And you?"

"A snail," Mogey answered happily.

"A snail?" Smush exclaimed. "But it would take so long to get anywhere."

"True," Mogey said, "but think of all the ladies I would get if I was riding atop a trusty steed named Snails McGrint. I'd be in no hurry at all."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 449

When they were but five years of age, a wizard had come to Mogey and Smush and bestowed upon them an epic quest. It was a quest that had confounded the world for centuries; a quest many had tried - and failed - to complete. Their mission was (of course) to find "the perfect hot dog."

Which was how Mogey and Smush found themselves at an old forgotten ballpark in Centerburg many years later, eating the umpteenth hot dog of their lives.

"What do you think of this one, Mogey?" Smush asked as he munched a bite of dog. "Could it be the PHD?"

"The dog is cooked to the exact right temperature," Mogey replied. "The bun is soft and plump."

"Aye," Smush agreed.

"The relish is both sweet and sour," Mogey went on. "And they call the mustard spicy brown because it's spicy and brown."

"True," said Smush.

"But it's not perfect," Mogey added sadly.

"No," Smush said, "it's not. Curse you, Wizard Wacklehooz!"

"Say," interrupted the crinkly old cook manning the concession stand, "I couldn't help but overhear. Have you gents ever tried our deep fried hot dogs? We take a dog dog just like the one in your hand, dip her in batter and fry her to a golden brown."

Having nothing to lose, Mogey and Smush ordered a couple fried dogs out of desperation more than hope. When they were ready, the cook winked and handed the dogs to Mogey and Smush in sheets of wax paper. Apprehensively, the pals each took a bite. Seconds later they were both in tears.

"We've done it!" Mogey screamed raggedly, falling to his knees. "After all this time, we've finally found the perfect hot dog!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 448

It was Christmastime, and Mogey and Smush had volunteered to host a gathering of friends and family for dinner. On Christmas morning there was much to be done: the tables had to be set, the finest plastic silverware had to be polished, and the gravy boats had to be filled with both topping gravy and drinking gravy.

"How is the turducken coming, Mogey?" Smush asked as he bustled through with a platter of mashed butters.

"Oh I decided to bring it up a few notches from a mere turducken this year," Mogey replied. "I'm making a whacowlampigturgoosduckenpheasarrow!"

"My goodness!" Smush exclaimed. "Doesn't that seem like a bit much?"

"Certainly not," Mogey said. "We're having like five people over."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 447

Mogey and Smush, who were expert sneakers, snuck carefully into the Prince's mansion the night of the annual Grand Ball. Their main intention was to appropriate as many top notch appetizers as they could, but befriending a wealthy young duchess or two wasn't out of the question if they had enough time.

The pals split up as soon as they gained entrance to the fortified house, and they proceeded to consume copious quantities of crab cakes and bacon-wrapped prunes. After about 20 minutes of gorging, Smush came upon Mogey, who was eating a spare rib and looking most disheveled.

"Mogey!" Smush whispered sharply. "Tuck your shirt in!"

"That's preposterous," Mogey replied.

"It is not," Smush retorted. "We're among classy folk here. Every man in this room has his shirt tucked in."

"True," Mogey replied. "But it's perfectly impossibly to tuck a shirt in if you're not wearing any pants."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 446

One afternoon, Mogey and Smush were pushing wheelbarrows full of croutons through town, looking for any and all villagers who looked like their salads needed an extra kick. Unfortunately, their village was a meat n' potatoes sort of town, in the sense that none of the residents had ever actually heard of salad, so Mogey and Smush always ended up eating most of the croutons themselves.

"Avast!" Mogey and Smush heard a voice say as they trundled across a footbridge. "Ahoy!" the same voice croaked. It was coming from somewhere very near the ground.

Mogey and Smush peered over the bridge to see a Bolivian Horned Salmon poking its head out of the water as it lazily waved its tail to keep pace the the current.

"Be those croutons, me hearties?" the salmon asked.

"Yes," Smush replied. "The most savory croutons this side of Flavourburg."

"Yarr, I be quite partial to a good crouton," the salmon said. "How much do ye charge?"

"I'm sorry," Mogey answered, sniffing disdainfully, "but we don't sell to your kind." Without another word he hefted his wheelbarrow and stormed off.

"You'll have to forgive him," Smush whispered, tossing the salmon a crouton. "A walleye stole his pocketwatch once and he's been distrustful of fish ever since."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 445

As the Caravan of Wonders rolled joltingly along beneath him, Smush gripped the reins and glanced sideways at Mogey's sleeping figure. It had been a long day of selling wonders at the gypsy camp, and so Smush let his pal sleep.

"Whoaaaa," Smush said in a deep voice, bringing Phelps, their Clydesdale, to a halt. A tortoise had crawled into the middle of the dirt track and seemed content to sit there, paying no heed to the oncoming traffic.

"Oy!" Smush yelled. "Tortoise! Get out of the way, will ya?"

"I'm sorry sir," the tortoise replied, "but I'm afraid this bump in the road is just too high for me to cross. Might I request your assistance? The name's Porgin Meeks."

Grumbling about helpless tortoises, Smush clambered down from the caravan and walked to Porgin's resting place. Suddenly, the tortoise began to grow. Inexplicably, magically, Porgin Meeks doubled, then tripled in size, continuing to expand until he was a good eight feet from head to tail.

"Hohoho!" Porgin Meeks chuckled, baring his suddenly enormous claws. "Who's the helpless turtle now? I was planning on eating only your horse, but I may have room for you as well!"

As Smush cowered in fright, Porgin's beak-like jaws descended and Smush braced himself for the tortoise's mighty chomp. But it never came. Smush reopened his eyes to see that Mogey had woken up and somehow flipped Porgin Meeks onto his back, where the tortoise's arms and legs waved about in a panic as he tried unsuccessfully to right himself.

"Stupid magical tortoises," Mogey muttered as he climbed into the caravan and fell promptly back to sleep.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 444

Mogey and Smush were down at the cobbler's shop one winter's afternoon to survey the goods. Well, Smush was there to survey the goods. Mogey had tagged along for no reason at all and he was growing more and more impatient with Smush's elaborate shopping style.

"So you're telling me you can make these boots in brown AND black?" Smush asked.

"Aye," the cobbler replied without looking up from the shoe he was shaping.

"Is the black more of a midnight black or a coal black?" Smush pressed.

"What's the difference?" the cobbler said, taking a large puff from the ragged cigar in his mouth. "It's a miner's boot."

"Oh there's a big difference," Smush answered defensively. "You see, midnight black has a bit of a blue tinge, while--"

"Smush, can we get out of here already?" Mogey interrupted. "I've got things to do!"

"You have things to do?" Smush demanded, rounding on his pal. "What things do you have to do?"

"Um," Mogey replied, darting his eyes about as if searching for ideas. "I have to go see a man about a sheep?" he suggested. Smush and the carpenter weren't buying it. "Alright fine, I don't have anything to do," Mogey admitted. "But I'd rather send my girlfriend on a date with Jimmy 'Iron-abs' Hansom than listen to this shoe-talk any longer."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 443

One morning after a tremendous rainstorm, Mogey and Smush were walking along the dirt track that wound from their house down to the muffin shop. The path, incidentally, had not been there when Mogey and Smush first moved in, but years of daily pilgrimages for banana nut muffins had etched a muddy crease in the woods and pastures.

Other townspeople had taken to using Drury Lane, as the muffin trail became known, and on damp days the path became slick and trampled. As Mogey and Smush strolled, visions of lemon poppy seed muffins dancing in their heads, the came upon an immense hole in the middle of the path.

"Good heavens!" Smush exclaimed. "Mogey, I do believe that is a crater caused by some sort of meteoric impact!"

"It sure looks that way," Mogey replied. "But wouldn't we have heard a shooting star hit so close last night?"

Here Mogey and Smush were interrupted by the arrival of Lars Bigbottom, a half giant-half cyclops who lived down the road a ways.

"Say," Lars Bigbottom hollered, turning his one and a half eyes toward Mogey and Smush, "what are you two looking at? You'd better not go mucking up my lunch spot just as I've gotten the seat the way I like it!"

With that, Lars Bigbottom settled his massive bulk in the center of the path, fitting his backside perfectly into the strange crater.

"Well," Mogey said, "I suppose this saves us the trouble of digging around for a meteor."

"Come on, Mogey," Smush replied with a sigh, "let's go see if there are any peach muffins left."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 442

When they were very small, Mogey and Smush had teamed up to win a county-wide battle royale, which resulted in the two pals receiving scholarships to attend any secondary school they could gain entrance to. Throughout their grammar school days, Mogey and Smush studied hard, preparing themselves for the very best academies in all the land. Finally, at the age of sixteen, the time had come for them to choose which schools they would apply to.

"What's your number one choice, Mogey?" Smush asked as the two of them pored over directories in the village library.

"I'm going to apply to the most elite school in town," Mogey replied quietly. "A school so selective that only about ten students per year are eligible to be admitted: St. Lucy's."

"St. Lucy's?" Smush said. "But that's a school for the blind!"

"The blindingly smart, perhaps," Mogey responded curtly.

"Good gracious," Smush muttered, shaking his head. "Will you do me a favor, Mogey? Put in an application at Auntie T-Bone's School for the Simple, just in case."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 441

Mogey and Smush had been staying with their Uncle Chester for some months, and since they didn't do much besides tend their organic garden, Uncle Chester would give them certain duties while he was off working in the mines. Mogey and Smush hadn't the slightest idea what he mined, but he always came back covered in dirt and smelling spicy.

"Now listen here, Murgy and Splash," Uncle Chester said one morning as he was packing his lunch pail. "We need some things fixed about the house, so today I want you two to hire out a few repairmen in town and have them waiting here when I get home tonight."

"It's MOGEY and Splash, Uncle Chester," Mogey reminded him.

"Smush, not Splash!" Smush cried in disbelief. "It's Mogey and Smush!"

"Zip those flapping food-gulpers of yours," Uncle Chester responded, "and listen up! Here are the people we need: an electrician to fix that faulty hall light, a door repairman to work on the hinges in the entryway, and a plumber to unclog the jacuzzi drain."

With that Uncle Chester headed out, and Mogey and Smush spent the entire day combing the village for the very best of each profession it had to offer. When Uncle Chester returned that evening, his nephews were waiting proudly outside the house with three other gentlemen.

"Uncle Chester," Mogey began, "may I present the three workers you require?" He gestured theatrically to the first man, a slender fellow in a long, flowing cape. "This is Giovanni Fantastico, the magician you requested for the hall light."

"And this," Smush interjected, pointing to the beefy fellow in the middle, "is Tony Chopsticks, the doorman. I didn't know there was much hopping involved in door repair, but word on the street is that Tony is the best 'bouncer' in town."

"Finally," Mogey said, introducing Uncle Chester to a small, rat-faced man, "we have Captain Chuck, the rum-runner you asked about for the jacuzzi."

"Say, where are you going?" Smush asked Uncle Chester, who had turned and begun walking around the house without a word.

"To burn that organic garden to the ground, once and for all," Uncle Chester called back.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 440

Mogey and Smush trekked through the soggy Mallowmarsh Wood in the driving rain one night, searching for shelter. After a long while they came upon a hillside cave that looked dreary, but dry. Mogey tried to enter, and though the rain showed no signs of abating, Smush held him back.

"No Mogey," Smush shouted above the noise of stormy forest, "we mustn't enter that cave. Inside dwells Doctor Villainman, who smites down all who approach him with his fearsome Doomclaw."

"What goes on with this Doomclaw?" Mogey asked, shivering. "Does he actually have freakish talon-hands, or is it some sort of inexorably strong robotic contraption?"

"I believe it's one of those arm-extender claws that you buy at an aquarium gift shop," Smush answered. "But he is mighty good with it."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 439

One morning, Mogey and Smush found that a mysterious barrel had been delivered to their doorstep. It was a large and sturdy hogshead made of white oak, and they quickly rolled it inside lest the neighbors think they were putting on airs.

"Are you sure you didn't order another barrel of mead?" Smush asked.

"Yes," Mogey insisted. "Maybe you sent for a barrel of cider and forgot. You're always going on about how you could drink ten gallons of the stuff."

"Hogwash!" Smush replied. The two pals looked at one another, then down at the mystery barrel. "Well," Smush began, "shall we tap this beast and see what's inside?"

"Most definitely," Mogey said, pulling his favoritest crowbar from the umbrella stand and prying the top off the barrel.

No sooner had Mogey cracked the lid than the vessel burst open and out flowed a veritable river of furry, shrieking creatures. Within seconds Mogey and Smush had monkeys swinging from the hall lamps, robbing the larder of its entire supply of fruitsnacks, and shredding their Persian carpets to a fine confetti.

"Oh yeahhhh," Mogey and Smush said in unison, as recollection suddenly dawned on them.

"I told you we would forget that a barrel of monkeys was arriving," Mogey said as he opened the door to the cellar.

"You did, indeed," Smush admitted. "Say, where are you going?"

"I've got to retrieve my monkey wrench," Mogey called from the basement stairs. "Experts agree that it's the only way to get rid of these little buggers."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 438

"If you could have one superpower, what would it be?" Mogey asked Smush one fall afternoon as they were picking nectarines.

"A bottomless tummy," Smush replied. "And you?"

"I would live in the ocean," Mogey said, his voice taking on a dreamy quality, "and be able to command all sea creatures, from the mighty humpback whale to the humble starfish. Every day I would dine on kelp and seahorse salad and every evening at seven thirty, an army of cuttlefish would arrive to give me a sponge bath."

"Why would you need a sponge bath if you lived in the ocean?" Smush queried.

"How dare you?" Mogey declared angrily, chucking a rotten nectarine at Smush's shoes. "How dare you stomp all over my dreams with your pterodactyl-leather-booted feet? If I want an underwater sponge bath, then an underwater sponge bath I shall have!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 437

"Bleh!" Mogey exclaimed, spraying a mouthful of hot coffee all over his rhetoric textbook. "This coffee is disgusting!"

"I'm not surprised," Smush said without raising an eyebrow, "you asked for it with a heaping tablespoon of salt stirred in."

"Ugh, I didn't mean this kind of salt," Mogey replied. "I meant the good kind."

"Do you mean... sugar?" Smush asked incredulously.

"Yes, that's the one," Mogey said. "A heaping tablespoon of sugar salt!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 436

One evening, Mogey and Smush were getting themselves ready for the big sock hop. The sock hop was just about the only social event all year in Turtsborough (apart from the annual cow patty stacking contest) so anyone worth his salt would be there (along with some folks who were only worth their paprika).

"Hurry up, Mogey!" Smush shouted up the stairs. "I told Miss Shoefly I'd meet her at the gymnasium doors at seven!"

"I'm coming!" Mogey replied, bounding down the stairs two at a time, and presenting himself with a grin. "What do you think?"

Smush took in Mogey's chosen outfit of a frayed tank top and camouflage shorts for a moment before heaving a great sigh.

"I thought we agreed not to dress up!" Smush exclaimed, plucking at Mogey's tank top. "Now I'll have to go change," he grumbled, stomping upstairs angrily.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 435

One foggy morning, local milkman Bernie Boggins arrived at the offices of M&S Marine Towing with his daily delivery of milk, cream, and butter. He knocked on the door and was beckoned inside by the proprietors, Messrs. Mogey and Smush.

"Here's your daily dairy," Bernie Boggins announced, setting the milk crate down.

"Thank you, Bernie," Smush said without looking up from his newspaper.

"Ahem," Bernie coughed awkwardly. "I hate to bring this up, but I'm afraid you gentlemen haven't paid your bill in two months."

"We know Bernie, and we're sorry," Mogey answered. "But we can't pay you until business picks up. There simply isn't any money."

"And what is your business, exactly?" the milkman queried.

"We've got a tugboat in Bunchie Lake," Mogey said. "The HMS Hamhock. She's a strong one too: the old girl can pull boats and barges more than twenty times her size."

"I don't understand," Bernie Boggins replied.

"Well, you see, Boggins," Smush said, "a tugboat's engines have quite a bit more torque--"

"No, I understand what a tugboat is," Bernie Boggins interrupted. "But I don't understand how you two expect to make any money. Bunchie Lake is no bigger than my above-ground swimming pool, and the HMS Hamhock is quite literally the only boat in it."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 434

One evening, Mogey returned home later than normal, having stopped at the pie shop on his way home from work. He was still brushing blackberry pie crumbs out of his whiskers when he opened the door to find that his best pal Smush was being held hostage.

"Tell us where the safe is!" shouted a moustachioed man holding a musket to Smush's head. "Tell us where the safe is, or your pal goes to sleep with the pigeons."

"That's 'sleep with the fishes,' Egbert," moustache's partner in crime corrected. The partner was a rather diminutive fellow with an eye patch and an overabundance of freckles. "But he's quite right," eye patch went on, turning to Mogey. "We'll do away with Master Smush right quick if you don't give up the safe."

"It's down in the cellar!" Mogey shouted immediately. "Hidden in a hogshead of cider."

Egbert and the man with the eye patch retrieved the safe, bid Mogey and Smush toodles, and ran for the hills, leaving Smush shaking his head.

"You couldn't have at least tried to trick them while I formulated a plan?" Smush demanded. "They wouldn't have killed me right off."

"No Smush, you don't understand," Mogey pleaded. "One of those burglars was propping his muddy boots up on our nicest sofa. I had to get them out of here as soon as possible!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 433

On a gloomy and moonless night, Mogey and Smush stumbled through the Swamp of Crushing Horrors, utterly lost.

"I TOLD you the Swamp of Crushing Horrors sounded like a terrible place for a picnic!" Smush grumbled as his frustration began to get the better of him.

"I was trying to find a private spot!" Mogey replied. "You said our last picnic was too crowded."

"You set up the blanket in the middle of a jousting track!" Smush retorted. "With a tournament going on. Pieces of my potato salad bowl are probably still lodged in that horse's hoof."

They went on like this, lost and bickering, for many an hour, until the two pals were exhausted, muddy, and no closer to finding their way out of the swamp. Just when Mogey and Smush were ready to give up and hunker down til dawn, a soft light appeared in the murky night air. The light drifted toward them, no bigger than a candle flame, until finally they could see that its source was a tiny, flying man glowing golden in the darkness.

"Are you a fairy?" Mogey asked when the creature stopped flying and hovered a few feet from their faces.

"Yep," the fairy replied.

"What's your name?" Mogey asked in wonder.

"Larry," the fairy answered.

"Your name is Larry?" Smush demanded. "Larry the fairy?"

"Yes!" Larry said, sounding a bit annoyed. "I mean, technically my name is Lawrence, but only my mother calls me that."

"Well Larry, can you help us escape the Swamp of Crushing Horrors?" Mogey asked hopefully.

"Nope!" Larry replied. "I'm just here to annoy you." And with that, Larry set about buzzing in Mogey and Smush's ears like an oversized gnat for the rest of the night, making life in the Swamp of Crushing Horrors even more miserable, if possible, than it already was.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 432

One day of yore, King Mogey and Emperor Smush formed an alliance that joined their countries into one powerful nation called West Eastly. What neither Mogey nor Smush knew, however, was that both of them shared the same devious plan. At their first meeting as joint heads of state, Mogey planned to do away with Smush, while Smush plotted to usurp Mogey, as both of them wanted to become the sole ruler of West Eastly.

Finally the fateful day arrived. The proper paperwork had been filed. The i's had been dotted and the t's had been crossed, which was a fairly easy task since West Eastly had no i's and only two t's. King Mogey and Emperor Smush agreed to meet in the throne room of their new palace in West Eastly City.

"Good day, King Mogey," Smush announced, catching sight of his new ally across the magnificent chamber.

"The same to you, Emperor Smush," Mogey replied serenely. "Shall we sit at our throne?"

"Indeed," Smush replied, and they crossed to the head of the room where a resplendent gold throne had been installed. When they reached it, both monarchs paused warily.

"Looks like this throne ain't big enough for the two of us!" Mogey announced, brandishing a dagger at the same time as Smush pulled cruel looking club from beneath his robes.

"Wait a second," Smush interrupted before the blows could be exchanged. "It looks like the throne might be wide enough to fit both of us after all."

"Right you are, Smush," Mogey replied, lowering his dagger as he took a second look at the golden chair. "Good thing we spent a little extra to get that 'bench throne' from Linens n' Things."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 431

Mogey and Smush had both eaten many a pizza in their day, but one rainy evening they dined on that delicacy together for the very first time. As they ate and tried to keep the leaking roof water from hitting their pie, Smush noticed a curious thing about Mogey's pizza-eating habits.

"You don't eat your pizza crusts, Mogey?" Smush asked in astonishment.

"Oh, I eat them," Mogey replied. "But I save them for 'smiles bonanza.' Just you wait."

They finished the pizza and Mogey was left with a mound of curved, uneaten crusts. He dashed into the other room, returning moments later with a tub of vanilla frosting.

"Smiles bonanza time!" Mogey shouted, dipping his first crust into the icing with gusto. "You see, Smush," Mogey went on, munching happily, "it would be unseemly to dip an entire slice of pizza in frosting. But no one can fault you for adding a little decoration to these cheery, smile-shaped crusts. It's a smiles bonanza!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 430

Mogey and Smush were walking through the woods one day (in the not-so-merry-month of November) when Mogey announced that he was taking a nap.

"I'm taking a nap," he announced. "This patch of moss looks extremely comfortable."

"Are you sure you want to lie down on that moss?" Smush replied. "I'm all for naps but you're going to get awfully dirty. You could always just--"

"Oh, look at me, I'm fancypants Smush," Mogey mocked. "I'm fraidy-scared of sitting on the ground."

"That's not it, Mogey," Smush protested.

"I need to go back to my emperor-sized bed to do any napping," Mogey continued. "It's too dirty out in the woods."

"Mogey, you're still wearing a tuxedo from your gala this afternoon," Smush retorted. "And I just so happen to have two hammocks in my backback, but I don't suppose you'd be interested in one of those, would you?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 429

Mogey, Smush, and most everyone in town were out berrying on the sunny side of Mount Malarkey one summer afternoon. Mogey emptied a full pail of boysenberries into the wagon and proceeded back to the berry patch with his pail atop his head.

"Check me out, Smush!" Mogey proclaimed, stumbling around blindly. "I'm Sir Loxington, the Im-pail-er!"

"You're quite the merry knight, Sir Loxington," Smush replied mockingly as he thumped Mogey's pail-helmet with the two-by-four he always brought berrying. "Get back to picking, will you? It's getting late and the berry bears will be out at sunset."

"Ouch," Mogey said, staggering about for a moment before toppling to the ground, his helmet still covering his face and head. "Impailer down," he groaned.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 428

The village of Porpaduke had grown restless of late due to the increasingly bold tactics of Signor Chinchilla, the evil dictator who ran the town with an iron fist. In fear of being overthrown, Signor Chinchilla called a town-wide meeting in Porpaduke Square and addressed the villagers.

"I've heard rumblings that maybe I shouldn't be the evil dictator of Porpaduke any longer," Signor Chinchilla announced from the podium. "That maybe I've grown soft. Well I'm here to put those rumors to rest. Today I shall take on any man, woman, or child who wishes to dethrone me in the ultimate battle of wits: a sumo wrestling match. Do I have any takers?"

The crowd noise rose as the townspeople muttered to one another, but no one seemed to be stepping forward.

"Mogey," Smush whispered. "You've got to volunteer! You're the only one who stands a chance against him."

"Are you crazy?" Mogey replied. "Signor Chinchilla must weigh thirty stones!"

"Have you seen yourself lately?" Smush retorted. "You're chubbier than a dumpling factory worker after a bad break up."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 427

One day, Mogey was out back watering the beanstalks when Smush showed up sporting two glorious shiners.

"Great Fluffernutter, Smush!" Mogey exclaimed. "What in the world happened to your eyes?"

"I got in a fight with Rupert," Smush replied, retrieving a steak from the icebox and slapping it onto his face.

"The wallaby who lives down the street?" Mogey asked. "How did it start?"

"I don't especially want to talk about it," Smush answered. "Let's just say that I learned a valuable lesson today: you should never refuse a wallaby half of your cheese sandwich."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 426

One morning, Smush was having his Weet-Bix when Mogey entered the kitchen looking severely bummed out.

"What's got your feathers so ruffled?" Smush asked around a mouthful of Bix.

"You wouldn't understand," Mogey said with a great sigh.

"On the contrary," Smush replied. "The village gossip, Missus Weisenheim, has taught me everything there is to know about the human mind. Have a seat and tell Uncle Smush what's bothering you."

"Well, you see, Smush," Mogey began, "I can't help but be frightened of card tricks. It ain't magicians that bother me, nor the illusions themselves, but somehow when I see one of those rigged decks of cards, I feel like the walls are closing in on me."

"Mmm," Smush said thoughtfully. "I've heard Missus Weisenheim discussing this malady. It's called Trick-a-deck-a-phobia."

"Trick-a-deck-a-phobia?" Mogey repeated. "Say, where are you going?"

"To go tell Missus Weisenheim about your fear," Smush, who was already halfway out the door, replied. "The entire town gossip circuit will want to hear this one!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 425

On a cool summer Sunday, Mogey and Smush headed into town to pick up a custom-made hat that Smush had ordered from the local haberdasher. They entered the store and the haberdasher, PJ Kickbottom, presented Smush with a brand new cowboy hat made of the finest crushed velvet.

"Hang on a tick," Smush said as he tried the hat on. "This hat is too small!"

"Listen here, Squash," PJ Kickbottom retorted.

"It's Smush!" Smush interrupted.

"Whatever," PJ Kickbottom said menacingly, leaning across the counter. "I made that hat to your exact specifications. It ain't my fault if your head got fatter since you last measured it."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 424

One afternoon Smush went outside with his bat and ball to find Mogey lying face-up in the front garden. Mogey had belted a large woodworking file to each of his legs and was rubbing them together in what appeared to be some bizarre exercise routine.

"What in the world are you on about, Mogey?" Smush inquired. "We were supposed to have cricket practice right now."

"I know," Mogey replied, continuing to rub his legs together furiously. "What did you think I was doing? I've already memorized a few songs, and if I could just figure out how those darned crickets move their legs so quickly we'll be chirping with the best of them before you know it."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 423

On a summer day so hot that even camels were drinking gatorade, Mogey and Smush wandered down to the old swimming hole. When they arrived, Smush immediately stripped down to his bathing costume, but Mogey took off his shirt to reveal a pair of thick flannel overalls.

"How in the world are you wearing all that flannel?" Smush demanded. "It's sweltering out here!"

"Stop looking at my underalls, Smush!" Mogey exclaimed, turning away. "I'm getting embarrassed."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 422

"Alright, Mogey," Smush said as he unfurled Captain Brownbeard's ancient treasure map. "This says the chest of wonders is buried twenty paces from that rock-shaped stone over there. Count it out for me, will you?"

"With pleasure," Mogey replied excitedly, and he ran to the stone Smush had pointed out. "One, two," he counted as he began pacing out the distance, "three, four, jive...."

"Excuse me?" Smush demanded. "'Jive?' Mogey, do you not know how to count to twenty?"

"Behhh!" Mogey grunted inexplicably. "Of course I know how to count to twenty. I counted to four thousand and ninety two the other day just for fun. What did I say wrong?"

"After four you said 'jive,'" Smush answered. "It's five, not jive."

"Oh," Mogey said. "Five? Is that what people have been saying all these years? But what about the most fun dancing number in all the world? You know, the one that comes after fifty four? Shifty jive."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 421

"What are those shoes made of, Smush?" Mogey asked one day when Smush showed up wearing an elegant pair of boots he'd never seen before.

"Take a guess," Smush replied.

"Suede weasel fur?" Mogey suggested.

"Nope," Smush said.

"Reconstituted snakeskin?" Mogey asked. Smush shook his head. "Thick knit hemp?" Mogey went on. "Indian rubber? Pig leather?"

"No sir," Smush answered. "The material is much finer than any of those. These shoes are made from genuine, one hundred percent unadulterated Ziploc freezer bags."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 420

One day Smush went to see the village moneylender in hopes of getting a loan that would enable him to buy the monkeyskin coat of his dreams. Mogey, who had nothing better to do that day or any other day, accompanied his pal for moral support.

"How can you expect me to loan you anything?" asked Bowber Winkle, the moneylender, after Smush had made his case. "You have no job, no plans to find work, and no assets to speak of."

"I wouldn't go that far," Mogey interjected. "Smush's impression of our chicken, Sergeant Cluckles, is actually quite an asset. Show him Smush."

"Buck, buck, buck, buh-caw!" Smush clucked.

"I've seen enough," Bowber Winkle replied. "Loan granted."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 419

One morning Smush stumbled downstairs, bleary-eyed, to discover a large package wrapped in brown paper waiting for him in the front hallway.

"Happy birthday, Smush!" Mogey yelled, tackling his pal from the side. "Are you ready to open your present?"

"Mm," Smush mumbled, picking himself up and tearing off the wrapping paper.

"I know how sensitive you've been about your diminutive size lately..." Mogey said excitedly, as Smush uncovered two sturdy looking wood beams with footholds attached.

"So you got me stilts?" Smush demanded, looking not quite as appreciative as Mogey had expected.

"Sure!" Mogey replied. "Now when you see Tilly Rialto at the pub next Thursday, you'll be able to talk to her at eye-level!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 418

One winter, Mogey went through a handlebar moustache phase. He thought nothing could be grander than his finely waxed whiskers, and his pal Smush would have let him carry on with that foolishness indefinitely if it weren't for Mogey's propensity to slurp his pea soup straight from the bowl.

During the height of his moustache period, Mogey returned home one day to find a box on the kitchen table labeled Do Not Open. Mogey twisted his moustache and thought for a moment before deciding that such a label surely couldn't apply to finely moustachioed fellows like himself.

Upon lifting the cover, Mogey found himself face to face with a Portuguese Ripping Lizard, which promptly jumped out of the box, grabbed hold of the leftmost extremity of Mogey's whiskers, and did just what its name would imply.

"Ho ho!" Smush chortled, walking in to find his pal sporting only one half of a finely waxed moustache. "Looks like the age of the moustache has finally come to an end," he added, tossing Mogey a safety razor. "Finish the job, won't you, Mogey? I'll put the pea soup on."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 417

"Smush?" Mogey began. "Have you noticed that our South Strummian creeping mangrove plant has begun to creep a bit too fast?"

"You know something Mogey? I do believe you're right," Smush replied, glancing at the leafy vines rapidly advancing out of a ceramic pot and across the breakfast table. "Take care of it, won't you?"

Mogey rummaged around in the everything drawer until he unearthed a pair of rose clippers, then made his way back to the creeping mangrove to do some serious pruning. As he attempted to clip one of the main vines, the plant reared up, snatched the rose clippers from Mogey's hand, and punched him in the face with a leafy fist.

"Ow!" Mogey cried as he stumbled backwards, feeling more than a little dazed.

"You're such a wimp sometimes, Mogey," Smush said as he strapped on a pair of goggles, hefted a flamethrower, and fired it up with a WHOOSH.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 416

One day, Mogey and Smush realized the ancient cork tree overhanging their house had become a bit too large and a bit too old. A limb more than six feet in diameter hung directly over their greenhouse, which housed the most highly sought-after cucumber plants in the district.

"Looks like we're going to have to cut her down," Smush said as they gazed nostalgically at the tree that had provided them with so many corks over the years.

"Don't worry, Smush," Mogey replied. "I'll take care of this. You go about your business."

Smush was doubtful, but he let Mogey be and went inside to pickle some rutabagas. Several hours later he came back out to see how his pal was getting on, only to find Mogey asleep in the hammock, a two-man crosscut saw by his side.

"What in tarnation are you doing, Mogey?" Smush demanded.

"Eh?" Mogey grunted, waking up with a start. "Oh, Smush, there you are. Well I tried to chop down the old tree, but it's a two-man saw and I'm only one person, you see."

"I was right inside the whole time!" Smush retorted. "You could have asked for help."

"I didn't want to take you away from your pickling jars," Mogey said. "I know how much you like pickling."

"Well, I'm here now," Smush sighed. "So let's do some work on the tree."

"Actually, would you mind handling the cutting yourself for a while?" Mogey replied. "I think I'm going to take a bit of a nap."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 415

"Please, Mogey, you really must let down the ladder!" Smush called from the forest floor.

"No!" Mogey replied, hidden by the walls of their tree house. "I will not stand to be insulted. No one who calls Mogey a rascal is welcome in this tree fort!"

"I beg you, Mogey!" Smush pleaded. "I'm surrounded by a pack of ghost bears! Their teeth are sharper than steel chisels and their claws are as strong as a child bodybuilder!"

"I'm still not letting you up!" Mogey answered. "How can you tell how strong their claws are, anyhow?"

"Alright! I have a basket of boysenberry turnovers with me!" Smush cried desperately. "They're all yours if you throw down the ladder."

Milliseconds later, the rope ladder unfurled to the forest floor, and Smush climbed it faster than a monkey on fire.

"Well?" Mogey demanded when Smush had clambered into the tree fort.

"Sorry, Mogey, there aren't any turnovers," Smush replied. "I had to say something!" he added, seeing Mogey's crestfallen face. "There were ghost bears down there!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 414

"May I ask you a personal question?" Mogey asked Smush one afternoon as they were sailing down the mighty Tronkle River in their skiff, the Double Cheese III.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that, Mogey," Smush replied. "You're making me very uncomfortable."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 413

One sunny afternoon, Mogey and Smush swam out into the Bay of Squelch to ride some dolphins. Dolphin wrangling was the pals' favorite activity when they became stressed out, and they'd run out of doughnut batter that morning, so both Mogey and Smush were on edge.

"It feels good to out here," Smush declared, coming up for air. "The salt air in your lungs, a slimy dolphin flipper in your hands, what could be better?"

"I don't know..." Mogey replied. "But I'd really like to try riding one of those big dolphins with all the teeth."

"You mean a shark?" Smush asked.

"What? No!" Mogey answered, aghast. "Are you crazy? Who'd want to ride a lark?"

"I said 'shark,'" Smush corrected.

"Oh," said Mogey. The two of them stared at each other for several moments as they bobbed up and down in the Bay of Squelch. "So are we going to ride some sharks?" Mogey asked. "Or what?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 412

On a frigid January morning, Smush waited for Mogey atop the Kanute ice flow. His breath fumed smoke-like from his mouth on every exhale, but inside he was warm with the thrill of competition and also egg nog, for today was the day of the annual sled dog race.

"Good morning, my future vanquishee," Mogey said smugly, pulling up next to Smush in his dog sled. Only, it appeared that he'd replaced the dogs with monitor lizards. "You're done for, mon frere," he went on. "I've got a little trick up my sleeve this year."

"Is it the monitor lizards you've got pulling your sled?" Smush asked.

"Wha-- no..." Mogey replied uncertainly.

"You realize those are cold-blooded animals and they'll run out of energy almost immediately in this weather, right?" Smush said.

"But with no fur they're so aerodynamic!" Mogey answered as several of the monitor lizards keeled over. "Surely they can make it through a couple hundred miles in freezing temperatures, can't they?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 411

In the days of the Great Ruckus Wars, the small mountain village of Mupe fortified its borders, and all the townspeople took turns guarding the walls. One foggy evening, Mogey and Smush were fulfilling their guard duties when an odd-looking creature approached the gate.

It looked a bit like short, squat penguin, but its beak was so large that the creature had no choice but to drag its head along the ground.

"Who goes there?" Smush shouted, brandishing a spear at the strange thing.

"It is I, Lunk!" the creature said, keeping his head on the ground but raising comically small wings in the air. "I'm naught but a humble gulbous in search of work."

"A gulbous?" Mogey repeated, glancing at Smush. "And what sort of work do you do, Lunk?"

"Well..." Lunk replied, rolling his head side-to-side as if he hadn't considered this before. "Do you need anyone to draw hopscotch courts?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 410

"You know what has always puzzled me?" Mogey queried one morning at the breakfast table. "Why do peaches have pits, while pears have seeds?"

"Would you stop that?" Smush exclaimed. "You're ruining my perfectly good bowl of cocoa krispies with all this disgusting talk. I'd rather walk through woodpecker grove in a birdseed hat than discuss fruit during breakfast."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 409

One afternoon, Mogey and Smush meandered on down to the river to fetch a couple pails of water from the village pump house. Smush pumped the handle as Mogey stared absentmindedly at the stream of water pouring into his wooden bucket, wondering if petting toads did indeed give you warts (and if so why his hands and neck weren't covered in them).

Suddenly, a very strange thing happened. The water erupting from the spigot turned bright purple. Curious lad that he was, Mogey bent down and took a sip of the purple liquid.

"Good gracious!" Mogey exclaimed. "This isn't water at all - it's pirate's punch!"

He bent back over the stream and began guzzling pirate's punch as fast as it would come out. Then he pumped for a while to give Smush his turn.

"Delicious!" Smush cried after his first sip. "An otherworldly delight! How is this possible?"

They went on like that, switching pumpers every so often, for over half an hour, until finally they were interrupted by the arrival of Cheddar Bogstaff, the chubbiest, sloppiest, smelliest man in the district.

"Ahoy fellahs," Cheddar Bogstaff said, waddling over. He was toweling himself off and Mogey and Smush both noticed a lack of his usual fragrance. "I just had me my first bath in 2 months! Had to scrub pretty hard too. See these shorts?" he asked, pointing to the white pair of cutoffs he was wearing. "They was purple when I got in the river just now."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 408

"Do you fellows know how fast you were going?" Constable Ironrear asked, looking over at Mogey and Smush from atop his magnificent thoroughbred.

"No sir," Smush answered, since he was sitting in front, "but ol' Duffy here is getting on in years. I wouldn't say he could manage more than a trot at this point."

"Perhaps a slow canter," Mogey agreed, scratching Duffy between his antlers, "but no faster than that."

What Constable Ironrear didn't know was that Duffy was the fastest racemoose in all the kingdom. He was descended from the very greatest racemooses of history: Proudsnout, The Nubster, and even Macaronilips were in his bloodline. Given enough room to maneuver, Duffy could reach speeds up to forty knots, a highly dangerous thing to do on the windy country roads, but Mogey and Smush had been attempting just that when Constable Ironrear spotted them.

"A slow canter, eh?" the Constable replied skeptically. "I saw more speed than that on this old boy. Quite a bit more," he said, patting Duffy's haunch. "I think you gents had better come down to the sheriff--"

Here Constable Ironrear stopped mid-sentence, interrupted by a streak of green barrelling across the road. All three of them (plus Duffy and the thoroughbred) instantly recognized Rambunctious Freddy, a swamp monster and the most infamous youth in town.

"You two stay right where you are!" Constable Ironrear shouted at Mogey and Smush as he took off after the green troublemaker. "This time you're mine, Rambunctious Freddy!"

"Run like a moosey wind!" Smush whispered to Duffy, and they galloped toward freedom at full speed.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 407

One evening, Mogey left the farmstead to run several errands. Smush found this curious indeed, since the only errand is pal usually ran was refilling the donkey feed, and the donkey feed shop was long-closed.

When at long last, Mogey returned home with a parcel wrapped in brown paper, Smush's befuddlement had reached epic proportions.

"What in the world were you after at this time o' night?" Smush demanded.

"I bought myself this music box," Mogey replied, unwrapping an ornate inlaid box. "Give her a look-see," he said, handing it to Smush. "It's tops."

Smush opened the case, expecting to hear a jaunty tune, but instead he found the inside filled only with fragrant apple cider donuts.

"This is no music box," Smush declared. "It's just got donuts in it!"

"Well they're music to my nose," Mogey said, snatching the box back and taking a bite of donut.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 406

One morning, Smush awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and oxen chomping. He rolled his legs off the bed, coughed once or twice, and ran his fingers through his hair. But wait...what hair? Where Smush's thick, lustrous locks should be, his skin was smooth as bodybuilding baby.

"Mogey!" Smush cried in anguish. "Come quickly! I'm ruined!"

Mogey strolled calmly into Smush's room, holding a cup of tea. He seemed unsurprised at the lack of mane on his pal's head.

"How could this have happened?" Smush wondered desperately.

"I came in and shaved your head while you were asleep," Mogey replied taking a sip of tea. "I so wanted to settle our debate over what you would look like bald."

"And?" Smush asked, for lack of a better response.

"You were right," Mogey answered. "You look much more like a turtle than an elbow with eyes."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 405

"Smush, where would you say your accent is from?" Mogey asked one night as Smush was reading The Evening Chipmunker Post-Gazette.

"Wassat?" Smush murmured without looking up from his paper.

"Your accent," Mogey repeated. "It's difficult to tell the difference between certain words you say."

"Mmm," Smush said absentmindedly.

"Sometimes I can't tell if you're talking about a pear cobbler or a pair of cobblers, for instance."

"Mogey!" Smush whispered sharply, finally looking up. "Don't talk about the nanny like that - she's just in the other room."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 404

"Pull!" Smush shouted, at which Mogey heaved a clay disc high into the air.

BANG!

The disc sailed safely away, landing in Neighbor Bill's petunia patch.

"Durn it!" Smush grumbled. "I missed again."

"Maybe your trajectory is off," Mogey replied, venturing over to help Smush adjust the rock-throwing teeter-totter they'd invented. One end of the catapult-esque device had a basket capable of holding a good-sized rock, and the other was comprised of a steel plate that would be hit with a sledge hammer in order to launch the stone.

"This wretched thing is just too cumbersome," Smush replied, kicking the teeter-totter. "Skeet-walloping would be much more fun if someone invented a light, maneuverable device that could accurately shoot those clay discs out of the air."

"You mean, like a gun?" Mogey suggested.

"A gun would be perfect!" Smush exclaimed. "Go fetch our rifles from the barn, will you?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 403

Mogey and Smush were always at the forefront of daredevilry, and so they spent many a weekend climbing, rolling down, and jumping off various dangersome objects. On a sunny afternoon in late Novembruary, the pals hiked to the top of Woodchuck's Fang, the steepest, most dangerous cliff named after a Woodchuck in all that country. Once they reached the summit, Mogey and Smush took a look around, split a bologna sandwich, and leaped off the precipice.

"Get ready to pull your rip chord!" Smush shouted after a half minute of free falling.

"Why?" Mogey asked over the howl of rushing wind.

"To deploy the parachutes, you melonhead!" Smush replied.

"You know me pretty well, right Smush?" Mogey yelled. Smush nodded. "Then what, in the extensive amount of time we've spent together," Mogey went on, "would make you think that I packed parachutes?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 402

"Are you gentlemen ready for some hunting?" Mogey shouted, bounding out the front door with a bow slung over his shoulder.

Smush and their sherpa, Crouching Frog, both doubled over with laughter at the sight of him. Mogey was wearing a purple hat, a bright orange scarf, and a yellow vest.

"What?" Mogey demanded.

"What in the world have you got on?" Smush asked, trying to catch his breath. Crouching Frog had gone down on one knee and was openly weeping with laughter.

"Camouflage, just like you said," Mogey replied defensively. "I don't want the deer to see me coming." This caused another wave of hilarity among his friends.

"Tell me, Mogey," Smush said, "what are you supposed to be camouflaged as?"

"The weather report today was sunny with a chance of showers," Mogey answered. "We'll see who's laughing when a rainbow comes out and I blend in perfectly."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 401

"Why are we here?" Mogey asked Smush.

"That's really the question, isn't it?" Smush replied. "On the one hand, it seems life is too short to mean much in the grand scheme of things, yet on the other, even the tiniest moments can be so monumentally important. I believe the philosopher James "Big Jimbo" Thistlethwaite once hypothesized that a monk dropping a morsel of chicken nugget from his mouth in Timbuktu could cause a typhoon in Lubbersberg."

"No, I meant why are we right here?" Mogey asked exasperatedly. "You woke me up at four in the morning and asked me to meet you in the alley behind the waffle factory.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 400

Limerick #1
"Help me Smush! By the power of Zeus!"
Mogey cried, running round like a goose.
He panicked the farm
as he yelled in alarm,
"Our man-eating crocs have got loose!"

Limerick #2
Last night the butler's smile was a winner.
Now he looks like he just smelled paint thinner.
He learned his lesson:
you shouldn't be messin'
With Mogey and Smush during dinner.

Limerick #3
At a mountain resort, Smush cussed "Cheese graters!
I want snow, I don't want elevators!
From the chef I will take
the most mash he can make,
then I'll ski down a mountain of taters."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 399

One day, Mogey and Smush were out and about when they came upon the Peddling Peddler, a gentleman famous for selling his wares from the back of a rusty old tricycle.

"Baubles, doo-dads, or trinkets, guv'ners?" the Peddling Peddler said.

"You've got trinkets?" Mogey asked. "What flavor?"

"I'm not sure I understand you, guv'ner," the Peddling Peddler replied.

"Just plain, eh?" Mogey responded. "Well have you at least got jelly or cheese or something to put on them? I love those little shredded wheat bundles of savory goodness."

"Ah, I believe you're referring to triscuits, sir," the Peddling Peddler said. "The trinkets I've got are necklaces and bracelets and the like."

"Jewelry made out of crackers, you say?" Mogey said thoughtfully. "I've never heard of such a thing, but it sounds delicious."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 398

One afternoon, Mogey and Smush were taking their lunch at the village cafeteria when a strange little man sat down at the table opposite them. He was clad all in green and had hair as bright orange as a clownfish covered in marmalade. The diminutive chap couldn't have been more than three feet tall, yet there he sat, enjoying a bowl of chowder and fiddling with a handful of gold coins.

"Smush," Mogey whispered, "be that a leprechaun?"

"Close, but no," Smush replied. "That there is a LEPER-chaun."

"How can you tell?" Mogey asked.

"Well for one thing, his nose just fell off into his soup," Smush answered.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 397

"Have you ever noticed," Smush said one morning as he and Mogey were eating a hearty breakfast of bacon, bacon, sausage, and bacon, "that several hours after eating a big supper, you're hungry again?"

"I don't understand the question," Mogey replied, pouring molasses on his breakfast meats.

"What I mean is, if you eat an especially big meal, you're hungrier than ever a few hours later," Smush explained.

"Yes, of course," Mogey acknowledged. "But I'm still confused. What happens in those hours between the meal and being hungry?"

"Well, you're full," Smush said.

"Full?"

"Yes, full. You're not hungry because your stomach is full."

"You're a wise man, Smush," Mogey replied, shaking his head. "But some mornings you think up ideas more daft than a bankrupt porta-john salesman. A full stomach - ha! Who's ever heard of such a thing?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 396

"I'm so delighted that the weekend is almost here," Mogey told Smush one Friday morning.

"Humbug!" Smush replied grumpily. "Hang weekends! Why do you enjoy them so greatly?"

"Weekends are the best," Mogey said. "I get to sleep into the late morning, eat an enormous breakfast of crullers and sausages, then play croquet all afternoon. What could be grander?"

"But Mogey," Smush insisted, "that's the same thing you do every day, weekend or not."

"Right you are," Mogey answered. "But on the weekends, everyone can join me! I'm not sure you realize how much less fun croquet is when your only opponent is Fudgy Bolber, the pig from next door."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 395

"Did you know you can find your way in the forest by looking at which side of the tree is mossier?" Mogey asked Smush as they wandered through The Billion Acre Wood one foggy morning.

"In fact I did," Smush replied confidently. "Moss grows better on the north side of trees. But that's not the only natural compass that exists, you know. Clouds usually move either east or west, spider webs tend to grow on the south sides of trees, and tadpoles almost always congregate on the west side of ponds."

"Fascinating," Mogey said. "Truly you are a great woodsman. What other hints from nature can you use if you're lost?"

"Take your neck fat, for instance," Smush answered. "I can tell you slept facing south last night, because you've got six chins on your right side, but only four on the left."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 394

After apprenticing as a ship's boy for several years under the tutelage of Sam Wiseacre, the best sailor in town, Mogey wanted to show off his skills. So he and Smush borrowed a small skiff and set out into the harbor.

"What's this thing called?" Smush asked, pointing up at a spar atop the sail.

"That's the gaff," Mogey replied expertly.

"Bahahaha!" Smush burst out laughing. "The gaff? Avast, matey, raise the gaff!" Smush exclaimed, collpasing back into a fit of laughter. "That's absurd. And what's this called?"

"That'd be the rudder," Mogey said.

"Hohohohoho!" Smush howled once more. "Rudder? Stop it, Mogey, you're killing me." He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "Now I want a straight answer on this one: what do you call this crossbar here?"

"That's the boom," Mogey answered with a sigh.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 393

"Say, Smush, where are you going?" Mogey asked, looking up from a bowl of cold cereal as Smush tip-toed out the front door late one evening.

"Tonight, dear Mogey, I am not Smush," Smush said in a deep and mysterious voice. "I am a righter of wrongs, a protector of those who cannot protect themselves. By night I prowl the rooftops and back alleys of our village, battling against the villainy that lurks in the darkness. Finally this town will have the hero it deserves!"

"So you're just like The Red Falcon?" Mogey asked.

"Who?" Smush demanded.

"The Red Falcon," Mogey replied. "He's been doing that sort of thing for months. The guy is pretty much my hero. Haven't you noticed that I'm actually wearing a costume modeled after his?" he asked, gesturing to his mask made of crimson feathers.

"Oh," Smush said. "So you are...."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 392

One evening, Mogey and Smush were down at Frank Manky's Pub for the annual darts tournament, undoubtedly the biggest event of the year in their little town. Almost every man in the village entered the competition, but every year Mogey and Smush had high hopes of bringing home the bacon.

"Next up," the Master of Ceremonies announced, "Smush versus your defending champion: The Pulverizer."

The crowd gasped. The Pulverizer cut a fearsome figure; his father was a goblin and his mother was a tyrannosaurus rex. The fellow could do two things well: eat steak sandwiches and throw darts, and he had won the tournament three years running.

"Do you want to go through with this or just forfeit now?" The Pulverizer asked Smush.

"Listen here, 'The.' If that's your real name," Smush retorted forcefully. "I grew up playing darts. I'm not afraid of the likes of you."

"You do know that the sharp end goes in front, right?" The Pulverizer said, gesturing to the way Smush was holding his dart.

"Poppycock," Smush replied. "The sharpness is to help you get a better grip. If these feathers aren't meant to work like a four-pronged grappling hook, what do they put them on the dart for?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 391

One afternoon, Mogey and Smush had volunteered to take care of Mogey's baby nephew, Lil Chester.

"Whatever you do, don't forget to feed him," Mogey's sister had insisted before leaving her son in Mogey and Smush's less-than-capable hands.

Taking their assignment very seriously, Mogey and Smush set about nourishing Lil Chester as their first order of business. This turned out to be a much more difficult task than expected. They offered him macaroni and cheese, a roast beef sandwich, a caramel latte, some limburger cheese, even a bowl of three-alarm chili, but Lil Chester refused them all.

"Crazy baby!" Smush exclaimed in exasperation. "Why won't you eat something?"

Lil Chester just lay there on his blankie, looking mutely up at his hapless caretakers.

"I've never seen a baby who wasn't hungry!" Mogey grumbled. "My sister's going to be awful cantankerous if she finds out we couldn't get Lil Chester to eat...."

Searching for inspiration, Mogey poured himself a glass of milk in one of the strange, rubber-topped bottles his sister had left, and took a long swig. After catching sight of him drinking, the normally reserved Lil Chester lunged from the confines of his cradle, snatched the bottle from Mogey's hands, and proceeded to down it in seconds.

"That's the darnedest thing I ever saw," Smush said. "That baby's an absolute fiend for milk."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 390

"Do you ever wish you could breathe underwater?" Mogey asked Smush abruptly as the two of them were rowing across Lake Lockalookie one morning.

"Not really," Smush replied. "It's awfully wet down there...."

"Of course you do," Mogey interrupted assuredly. "Who doesn't? Well I'm happy to say I've solved this problem that has plagued mankind since at least the Tuesday before last." Mogey paused to look around as if expecting applause. "How did I crack this riddle, you ask?" he went on. "By figuring out the key to the underwater breathing abilities of fish!"

"Gills?" Smush asked.

"No," Mogey said. "It turns out, the thing all fish have in common is that they smile upside down."

"You're sure it's not gills?" Smush said.

"Allow me to demonstrate," Mogey replied. He then arranged his face into an expression so fish-like, that for a moment, Smush entertained the notion that it just might work. Several minutes later when he was hauling a half-drowned and still very fishy-looking Mogey out of Lake Lockalookie, Smush wondered if he had a more foolish notion in all his life.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 389

One day Mogey and Smush were playing jacks when they were approached by a quadcorn. As the name suggests, a quadcorn is a four-horned horse, but unlike its aesthetically pleasing cousin, the unicorn, a quadcorn's horns do not always grow from its head. In fact, a quadcorn's horns can grow pretty much anyplace that they (the horns) please, and the specimen who approached Mogey and Smush was particularly unfortunate looking. He had one horn growing from his ear, two protruding from his left cheek, and one planted squarely on his rump.

"'Ello, chaps!" the quadcorn announced cheerily. "My name's Skippy."

"Great Scot!" Smush exclaimed at the sight of the ugly beast.

"Whoa!" added Mogey.

"What are you playing?" Skippy asked, looking somewhat taken aback.

"Jacks," Smush replied warily. "But it would be difficult to play with hoofs."

"Or a horn on your bottom," Mogey said under his breath.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 388

Though the Kingdom of Blooko had become a much safer place, most residents who could remember the Great Goblin Pestilence were still in the habit of bearing arms everywhere they went. Unlike the old days, however, weaponry was now used more for bragging rights than anything else.

One day at the honey factory, Smush was involved in just such a bragging contest during the lunch break.

"The sword is infinitely inferior to the battle axe," insisted Bold Frankie, a man twice as wide as he was tall (and he was quite tall). "Not only is the battle axe more practical, it's way more powerful."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," Smush replied. "The sword is far more powerful than the battle axe in the right hands."

"You're going to tell me that your wimpy sword is more powerful than this?" Bold Frankie exclaimed, brandishing his enormous axe.

"Please, Bold Frankie," Smush said quietly. "Don't make me draw Excelsior."

"Ooooooooooooooh," murmured the crowd, which was comprised principally of Mogey.

"Go ahead," Bold Frankie said menacingly. "I dare you."

Smush grasped the hilt of mighty Excelsior and drew the sword from its sheath, confidently displaying his prized weapon. When Bold Frankie caught sight of the sword, which was the size of a medium butter knife, he began to laugh so hard that he dropped his battle axe and doubled over.

"Excelsior vanquishes yet another foe!" Smush proclaimed proudly.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 387

Late one evening, Mogey and Smush were sneaking around the woodlands behind Lord Culpepper's estate in search of wild choco-choco-chip muffins. These curiosities of nature seemed to grow only on Lord Culpepper's land during the full moon, but they were so moist and chocolately that Mogey and Smush couldn't resist. They had gathered almost a full basket of the delicious muffins when a voice in the darkness caused them to stop dead.

"Doing some poaching tonight, gents?" The voice belonged to the game warden, Boysenberry O'keefe, a half man - half cave man whose disposition was as ornery as his face. "Because you know everything that lives on the Lord's land belongs to Lord Culpepper."

"No sir, Mister Boysenberry, sir," Mogey mumbled. "We wasn't doing any poaching. We were just gathering some of these wild choco-choco-chip muffins."

"Wild muffins?" Boysenberry O'keefe demanded. "Let me see what you've got there." He snatched the basket from Smush's hands and looked inside. "Where do you find these?" he asked.

"They grow all over," Smush replied. "Usually on the ground but sometimes there's an odd one up in a tree or bush."

At this, Boysenberry O'keefe burst out laughing and was unable to stop for several minutes afterward, eventually collapsing onto one knee in hilarity. Finally he regained control of himself and stood up, wiping his eyes.

"Well, chaps, I'm sorry to say that I must let you go on your merry way," Boysenberry said. "Although I should tell you, those aren't 'wild' muffins. Lord Culpepper is a man of habit, and every month at the full moon he breakfasts on choco-choco-chip muffins. But as with most aristocrats, his eyes are bigger than his stomach, so the multitude of muffins he doesn't eat are dumped back here with the rest of the kitchen rubbish. You've been collecting garbage muffins."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 386

One morning in the midst of the summer holidays Mogey and Smush went barrelling through the front door, excited for a day of tomfoolery, mischief, and philosophical contemplation.

"Now, now, boys," Aunt Jennifer called, causing Mogey and Smush to screech to a halt. "Have you finished your chores?"

"Yes, Aunt Jennifer," Mogey and Smush chorused.

"You milked the goats?" she insisted.

"Yes, Aunt Jennifer."

"You mucked the horse stalls?"

"Yes, Aunt Jennifer."

"You polished the good silver?"

"Yes, Aunt Jennifer."

"You coaxed the corn to grow?"

"Well..." Mogey and Smush hesitated, looking down at their feet.

"Mogey and Smush, you get out there and you coax that corn!" Aunt Jennifer admonished. "What will we eat all winter if that corn doesn't have the encouragement to grow into delicious ears that we can make into pone? I'd sooner die than experience a pone-less winter!"

"But Aunt Jennifer, we were going to play in Joe Pugle's Slip n' Slide!" Mogey insisted.

"That contraption will still be there after you've done some corn coaxing," Aunt Jennifer replied. "I don't care if you have to sing to it, that corn had best be knee high by tomorrow morning!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 385

Mogey and Smush had always been contemptuous of hobbies. They routinely sent letters using stamps from their neighbor's priceless stamp collection. On occasion they would plant a small-to-medium sized artillery shell on a grassy hillside in Mogey's Grandpa's model train layout. Once they even wasted a coconut cream pie giving a young lad's face its comeuppance after he flew a kite too near their house.

But there was one hobby Mogey and Smush hated above all others: birdwatching. As luck would have it, their postman was the most renowned birdwatcher in all of Gattleburn County. His name was Orn. Orn O'Thologist.

"Good day, chaps," Orn said cheerily as he deposited their mail one morning.

"Move along there, O'Thologist," Smush said bluntly from inside the screen door. "Chop chop."

"Righto," Orn replied. He hopped merrily off their front stoop and began to skip up the lane, but something caused him to pause, mid-skip. "Say, fellows!" Orn hissed in a barely audible whisper. "Come out here a moment!"

So compelling was Orn O'Thologist's voice that Mogey and Smush reluctantly went outside and followed him up the lane.

"See that bird there?" Orn whispered excitedly, pointing to a bright orange creature perched in a tree not ten feet away. "I'm not sure you gents know how special this is. That, my friends, is an Burnt Mukka, the rarest bird in this entire county! Can you see it?"

Mogey raised his shotgun to his shoulder, aimed carefully, and blew the Burnt Mukka away.

"No, I can't say that I can," Mogey replied, brushing a singed Mukka feather off his nose. "Like Smush said: get a move on, O'Thologist."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 384

One cool, calm, and collected winter's morning, Mogey and Smush paid a visit to their great uncle and benefactor, Lord Kensingtonburroughs. It was Lord Kensingtonburroughs who supported their voracious eating habits, continually failing farms, and legendary pool parties, and so Mogey and Smush thought it only right to stop in and see him from time to time.

"...and then Smush bellyflopped right onto a school of swordfish!" Mogey was saying. "You should've been there, Lord Kensingtonburroughs."

"Please, dear nephew," Lord Kensingtonburroughs replied. "Call me by my first name: Juan. Now, who'd like some coffee?"

"Thanks, Uncle Juan," Smush said. "I wouldn't say no to a cup of black coffee."

"Me too, Uncle Juan, me too!" Mogey exclaimed. "But I take my coffee polychromatic."

"Polychromatic?" Lord Kensingtonburroughs asked."I'm not sure I'm familiar with that style."

"Oh, it's very easy to prepare," Mogey said. "You just take a cup of black coffee and add two generous scoops of gummy bears."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 383

One sunny afternoon, Mogey and Smush were pulling weeds in the back garden when Smush unearthed what appeared to be a human foot in the petunia bed.

"What in the world?" Smush exclaimed.

"Well?" Mogey said. "Give it a sniff already."

Smush obliged and pulled back almost instantly with a look of disgust on his ample face.

"Ugh!" he groaned. "It smells awful!" At which point the toes of the foot began to wriggle indignantly, as if they had heard him.

Suddenly, a mound of earth behind the foot began to shift, spilling petunia bulbs into the geraniums, and up sat Mudfingers Waterbottom, the most soulful saxophonist in all the land. Old Mudfingers looked awfully cross as he brushed dirt from his lapels and picked himself up off the ground.

"Used to be, a man could have a nap in his neighbor's petunia patch without some miscreant smelling his feet," Mudfingers Waterbottom muttered, shaking his head. "But I guess those days are gone."

And Old Mudfingers Waterbottom picked up his saxophone and wandered off into the sunset, playing a tune so mournful that dwarves as far as ten miles away began to cry tears made of lemon-lime gatorade.