"You see that house up there?" Smush said one day as he and Mogey were ambling along Haystack Boulevard. He pointed to a cozy-looking brick building with an impeccably kept front garden. "Be on your guard as we pass that one, my lad. That's the house of Witch Richards, the orneriest old hag in all these parts."
Mogey gulped, but wanting to look like a tough guy, he recomposed himself and nodded stoically as they approached Witch Richards' abode. No sooner had they passed her garden gate than the front door creaked open and out stepped a matronly old woman carrying a cookie sheet in her oven mitt-ensconced hands.
"Oh boys!" she called sweetly. Mogey and Smush stopped dead in their tracks with fear. "Boys, would you like some fresh-baked oatmeal raisin cookies?"
Mogey and Smush both stared at her for a split second before turning and tearing down the street as though their preposterous lives depended on it.
"See what I mean, Mogey?" Smush yelled as they ran. "The orneriest old hag in all these parts. Oatmeal raisin - BLEH!"
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