The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCLII

One day when they were out tilling the garden, Mogey and Smush were approached by a large group of weasels. The group was larger than a gang but smaller than a pack, indeed, the assembly could only be described as a sneak of weasels.

"It seems we are at an impasse, gents," said the leader of the sneak, a beefy weasel named Tubsy Withers. Mogey and Smush knew that was his name because he wore a bejeweled necklace proclaiming his moniker for all to see.

"How so?" Smush asked, brandishing his trowel.

"You don't like it when we steal your chickens, ducks, and geese," Tubsy Withers replied. "On the other hand, we don't like it when there's no poultry for supper." The rest of the sneak nodded their heads in agreement.

"See? I told you I haven't been stealing chickens, ducks, and geese!" Mogey exclaimed.

"What I propose his this," Tubsy went on. "Give us a live pair of each type of fowl, and we'll go off and start our own farm and never bother you again."

"Fine," Smush said. "But I had better not see one more of you weasels lurking around our barn hereafter. Mogey, go grab a rooster and a hen, a goose and a gander, and a drake and a hostess.... Say," Smush said, pausing as he heard a thunderous rumbling sound, "what was that?"

"My tummy," Tubsy Withers replied. "Maybe you'd better make it two pairs of each."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCLI

One day Mogey and Smush were visiting their friend, Steve, in his hometown of Frequel. They'd just arrived after an arduous three-mile journey, and Steve was showing them around the village.

"See that man there?" Steve said quietly, pointing to a fearsome fellow in red pantaloons. "That's Billy Tundra, leader of the Potango boys, the most dangerous gang in these parts. A very important thing to remember, gents: Billy Tundra lisps something terrible, but under no circumstances should you call attention to his speech impediment. He'll have your head on a silver platter, at which point he'll give you the most painful noogies you've ever experienced."

"Mogey is intrigued," said Mogey, and he started toward the man.

"Where are you going?" Steve hissed.

"To meet Billy Tundra," Mogey replied, marching briskly across the street. "Greetings!" he said, extending a hand to Billy Tundra. "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"What'th your name, thtranger?" Billy Tundra replied, narrowing his eyes.

"Sir Solomon of Sussex," Mogey replied, turning back to his pals with a grin and a wink.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCL

One winter evening, Mogey and Smush were enjoying some festivities held at the village pub to honor the mayor's third consecutive week of sobriety.

"Another jargon of cider, barkeep!" Mogey hollered. "And make it extra spicy!"

"You know, Mogey, jargon is not a type of cup," Smush interjected.

"Tis not?" Mogey asked. "What's it mean then?"

"Jargon is language particular to a trade or profession," Smush replied wisely.

"Well my profession is drinking jargons of cider," Mogey replied, as the bartender handed him a glass. "So there."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLIX

One sweet-smelling spring afternoon, Mogey and Smush decided to learn, once and for all, which of them was plumper. Making this determination was not as easy as it may seem, however, as these were the days before scales or tape measurers. But they were not, as it so happened, the days before teeter-totters.

So Mogey and Smush ventured out to their local playground and forcibly removed a pair of schoolchildren from the seesaw. Each of them chose a side and, with great care, they lowered themselves onto the seats. For a few moments the teeter-totter hung in the balance, creaking ominously. And then...

...the seesaw snapped in two, sending both Mogey and Smush crashing to the ground, and putting the assembled schoolchildren into fits of hysterics. Mogey and Smush scuttled quickly away from the playground, their bottoms bruised and their cheeks redder than a communist shrimp.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLVIII

One day Mogey and Smush were cruising through the village marketplace, munching on figgy pudding, when they were approached by Snooter Billingsworth, a local noble and the snobbiest man in town.

"Hullo, commoners," said Snooter, staring down his ample nose at them. "I wonder if, assuming you aren't too daft, you could inform me as to the whereabouts of the constable's office. For your services I shall reward you with two silver penny pieces."

"Now listen here, Billingsworth," Smush began, wagging his finger at the noble. "We won't be talked to that way!"

"The constable's office is beyond the sausage stand and thirty paces to the right, Lord Billingsworth" Mogey quickly interjected, snatching the silver from the noble's hand.

"My thanks, peasant," said Snooter Billingsworth, gliding regally away.

"How can you demean yourself so?" Smush demanded of his pal. "Have you no pride?"

"I've got a little," Mogey replied. "Just not as much as Sweet Petey's Bakery has in their figgy puddings. Second helpings, here I come!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLVII

"Good day, sir. My name is Smush of Mogey and Smush's window washing service," Smush said, addressing the proprietor of the town drugstore. "Would you care for a free demonstration of our services?"

"No thank you, lad," the proprietor replied.

"Come now," Smush prodded. "It will only take five minutes, it's perfectly free, and I can't help but notice all the women and children barfing as they notice your unsightly windows."

"Alright then," the druggist said with a sigh. "Go ahead and try it on our front window there."

Mogey and Smush went to work washing the front window, and true to Smush's word, they were finished in 5 minutes flat.

"There now," Smush said, dusting off his hands. "What do you think?"

"You've literally covered the window in roofing tar," the horrified druggist rejoined.

"You're quite right, sir; it's our patented spot-free formula," said Smush, handing the man a business card. "We hope you'll think of us in the future for all your window washing needs. This concludes our free demonstration."

"That'll be ten dollars," Mogey added.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLVI

One day Mogey and Smush were walking down a street paved with golden taffy when they encountered a minotaur.

"Say," said Mogey, "is that a minotaur?"

"Seems to be," Smush mused. "Although I've never seen a minotaur quite so skinny."

Indeed, this minotaur had the monstrous head of a full-grown Brahma bull, complete with sharp horns, blood-red eyes, and standard-issue nose ring. Its body, on the other hand, was less along the lines of a Greek god and more along the lines of a little chap. He was as skinny as a marathoner after a long nap, and the enormous size of his head made the minotaur more than a little top-heavy.

"Ye must pay the toll to pass this way!" the minotaur hollered, wobbling unsteadily as Mogey and Smush approached.

"What's the toll?" Smush asked.

"Some oats, please!" the minotaur replied cheerfully.

Mogey, who carried a bag of oats on his person at all times, tossed the minotaur his toll. The top-heavy creature leaned over a bit to snatch the oats out of the air, becoming unbalanced as he did so, and went toppling head-first to the ground.

"A bit of help, please!" the minotaur begged as Mogey and Smush strode past. "One of me horns is stuck in this golden taffy!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLV

One foggy morning Mogey and Smush awoke early, grabbed their rucksacks and the rest of their seafaring gear, and made the long walk down to the docks. They were about to embark on a four month voyage to the Pretty Good Banks aboard the schooner Ollie Oxen III. In exchange for food and passage, the Ollie Oxen III would get half of their catch.

It was three days' sail before they reached the Pretty Good Banks, and every last sailor was raring to go by the time they got there. No sooner had the schooner dropped anchor than the seafarers set about opening their tackle boxes and sorting their gear.

Mogey and Smush were among the first to be ready. They pulled on their snorkels and flippers, grabbed their kelp clippers and jumped over the side.

"Great balls of meat!" Mogey exclaimed as he pulled himself back on deck nanoseconds later. "That's the coldest water I've ever felt!"

"No kidding," a sopping-wet Smush replied, pulling himself up beside his friend. "Say, pal," he said, turning to an old salt nearby, "how do you harvest seaweed when the water's this cold?"

"This here's cod-fishing season," the old salt grumbled. "You'd catch your death trying to gather seaweed in there."

"Mogey, please tell me you brought some fishing lines," Smush said hopefully.

"This is going to be a long four months," Mogey replied.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLIV

"Now see here, Mogey," Smush said one day as he waxed into a lecture on the proper use of their pitchfork, namely NOT roasting comically oversized marshmallows. "Your wastefulness has brought this house to its knees, which brings us to the crux of the matter."

"Hang on a tick," Mogey interrupted. "Did you just say 'the crux of the matter?'"

"Yes," Smush replied.

"Just checking," said Mogey. "Please proceed."

"As I was saying," Smush went on. "Your wastefulness has--"

"So are we going to have some crux or what?" Mogey interrupted again.

"What in the world are you talking about?" Smush asked.

"You know, crux. Isn't that the plural of crumb?" Mogey said. "I was led to believe there would be some cookie crux or maybe even a few cake crux for the latter part of this lecture."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLIII

One afternoon, Mogey and Smush were hunting out on the prairie with their prize falcon, Lubbins. They had little success until Lubbins captured something most unusual. Mogey and Smush hurried to the spot where they'd seen Lubbins fall upon his prey, only to discover their falcon perched atop the back of a bedraggled looking man.

"Please...help..." the man groaned, stretching a dirty hand toward Mogey and Smush.

"Caw!" said Lubbins, pecking the man's head.

"Atta boy, Lubbins," Mogey said.

"Please," the man repeated. "I broke me ankle out here three weeks ago and I've been crawling across the prairie ever since."

"Three weeks?" Smush exclaimed. "Mogey, we've got to get this man to Doctor Del!"

Mogey agreed and so they helped the poor man into their falcon-drawn wagon, hitched Lubbins to the front, and hauled for town. Once they reached the village, Mogey reined Lubbins in and the wagon came to a screeching halt before a small building with a sign out front that read "Dr. Del Ish's Chicken and Biscuits."

"Doctor Del! Doctor Del!" Smush yelled as he and Mogey hauled the man inside. "This man needs your help! He hasn't had chicken OR biscuits in at least three weeks!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLII

One day, Mogey was carrying four teapots from the kitchen into the drawing room for afternoon tea. In his left hand was balanced a pot each of chamomile and English breakfast, and in his right he held a pot of earl grey. The final teapot was perched atop his head, full to the brim with Mauna La'i.

Smush had warned Mogey many times to take two trips, but Mogey was a busy man. He had biscuits to eat and many different beverages to sip, and so he couldn't be bothered with walking back and forth to the drawing room all day long. Just as he was thinking how skilled he was at balancing teapots, Mogey tripped over a rogue hamster and went sprawling, shattering all four teapots against the floor.

"Mogey!" Smush shouted from the drawing room doorway. "How many times have I told you? Get out of the house and think about what you've done, and don't come back til you've heard a rooster crow three times!"

Mogey shuffled outside, his head hanging, as Smush began picking up pieces of shattered pottery.

"Cock a doodle do!" cried their new rooster, Clucks Montgomery, even though it was mid-afternoon. He'd beeb having a spot of trouble getting his times right. "Cock a doodle do! Cock a doodle do!"

"That was a nice long think," Mogey said, patting Smush on the shoulder as he walked back inside. "I'm going to go take a nap."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXLI

"There's something very important I'd like to show you, Mogey," Smush said one rainy Saturday. "I've never performed before, but I know all fourteen of the immortal Lord McElroy's sonnets by heart. Would you like to hear me recite them?"

"Well I'll be doggoned!" Mogey exclaimed. "The immortal Lord McElroy? All fourteen of 'em? I can't think of a thing nicer than Lord McElroy as told by Smush. I'll plop down right here and you go ahead whenever you're ready."

As Mogey settled into an easy chair, Smush took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to recite. He read the poems with all the passion in his soul and all the indigestion in his tummy, letting loose feelings and burps that had been cooped up inside him for ages.

When at last he reached the penultimate line of the 16th sonnet, Smush opened his eyes to see Mogey preoccupied with a stick of hard candy, a pair of earmuffs over his head.

"Mogey!" Smush said angrily, to no avail. "Mogey!"

"What?" Mogey asked, removing the earmuffs.

"I don't believe it," Smush muttered. "You've missed my entire recitation."

"For goodness sakes, Smush," Mogey replied. "You were reciting poetry. What did you expect me to do? Not put on earmuffs and enjoy a distracting hard candy?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXL

"You're going to be splendid, Mogey," Smush told his nervous pal as he straightened the ruffles around Mogey's neck. "This is the day you show everyone what you've got."

Mogey nodded shakily. Sixteen times he'd tried out to be the King's personal trumpeter and sixteen times he'd failed, but today was going to be different.

"Royal trumpeter hopefuls, assemble!" cried the King's music director. After giving Mogey a fist-pound for good luck, Smush went outside to the castle courtyard so that he'd have a good view of the tryouts.

Moments later, the music director marched a dozen hopefuls onto the stage to a smattering of applause and a single rotten cabbage lobbed by an overeager youth.

"Please!" the music director hollered. "Hold your applause AND your rotten cabbages until all the hopefuls have tried out!"

Of the twelve trumpeters trying out, Mogey looked by far the most regal. He was dapper in brand new pantaloons, clogs, and a starched leather vest. When the King arrived, all the hopefuls bowed, but Mogey bowed lowest of all.

The King inspected the ankles and hairdos of the prospective trumpeters and, finding most of them to his liking, proceeded to the trumpeting portion of the competition. As the hopefuls auditioned, Smush saw Mogey getting more unsettled with each new trumpeter that went, until finally it was his turn.

"You, my good man," the King addressed Mogey. "Play me 'Hot Cross Buns.'"

Mogey nodded, but rather than pulling out his trumpet he proceeded to extract an eclair from his pocket. Seeming not to notice his mistake, he blew several times into the pastry, showering the shocked-looking King's robes with custard.

"Not again!" groaned Smush.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXXXIX

One afternoon, Mogey and Smush were out in the Billion Hectare Wood for a picnic. They'd finished up several roast beef sandwiches, a jar of sour pickles, two tins of sardines, six peach muffins, and a cold roast turkey, and it was finally time for dessert: a large pot of honey. Mogey was about to remove the honey jar's cloth cover when Smush stopped him.

"Tsk, tsk," Smush chided. "Don't you remember the first rule of picnicking? Mrs. Tootle would be so disappointed in you."

"I know, I know," Mogey said, rolling his eyes impatiently. "Before opening a jar of honey you're supposed to look both ways for bears. Personally I think that's all a bunch of hooey, but if it'll put your mind at ease...."

Mogey took a long exaggerated look to the right, then craned his neck around to the left. Seeing no bears, he opened the honey jar and dipped in a wooden spoon.

"NUM NUM NUM NUM!" called a voice above. Mogey and Smush looked up to see a Kodiak bear plummeting toward their picnic blanket and licking his chops. The bear landed with an immense crash, snatched the honey pot away from Mogey, and buried his snout in it.

"Could I just..." Mogey tried to interrupt.

"No!" the bear shouted, hiding the honey behind his furry elbow. "Mine! Num num num num num."

Smush gave Mogey a disappointed look and marched away in search of some elderberry jam.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXXXVIII

One cloudy day, Mogey and Smush were ambling through the village en route to a tupperware party when they noticed a large section of the sidewalk was cordoned off. Behind a set of orange cones was a newly laid patch of cement.

"C'mon, Mogey!" Smush said quietly, veering toward the wet cement. "I've always wanted to do this!"

The two pals glanced furtively about the street, though they had little to fear since it was 10:30 on a Tuesday morning and most of the townspeople were at work. Once they had determined no one was watching, they knelt before the wet patch of sidewalk and Smush pressed his left hand into the soft material.

"Excellent!" Smush murmured, pulling his hand out and seeing the imprint it left behind. He brushed off his hands to remove some of the bits of cement that had stuck. Seeing this, Mogey scooped up a handful of wet cement and began to scrub his face vigorously with it.

"What are you doing, Mogey?" Smush demanded, grabbing his pal's arm.

"What?" Mogey said, spitting out a mouthful of cement and opening his eyes just a crack. "I thought we were washing up."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXXXVII

One winter morning Smush noticed that the smell coming from Mogey's general vicinity, which had always been a bit pungent, was becoming more objectionable by the day. When he realized the usual method of stuffing tater tots up his nostrils was no longer working, Smush had hit his breaking point.

"I've had it, Mogey!" he shouted at his friend. "What in tarnation is that smell?" Mogey was so startled by the outburst that his mouth dropped open and fifteen blueberries fell out.

"I'm sorry, Smush," Mogey replied. "I must be smellier than I thought. But I can't take a bath til springtime... I just can't! I'm too afraid of that bathtub upstairs."

"Afraid of the bathtub?" Smush asked. "But why?"

"Because it has an enormous maelstrom in one end!" Mogey said.

"Is that all?" Smush responded, shaking his head. "Well sheesh, Mogey, just sit in the other end for goodness sakes! That maelstrom's only swallowed like half a dozen people, how dangerous could it be?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXXXVI

One afternoon Mogey and Smush were hanging around the village butcher shop, flirting with the young ladies of the community. The butcher's was their favorite place to meet girls because, as everyone knows, nothing puts romance in the air like meat cleavers and a well-cut porterhouse.

"How about that one?" Mogey whispered to Smush, nodding his head towards the beauty in the yellow dress who was ordering up a several racks of baby back ribs.

"That's Matilda Blonken!" Smush said in hushed tones. "She's way out of your league."

But Mogey's skills with the ladies were smoother than Babyface McNamera's cheek after shaving with a Schick Quattro Titanium, and he brazenly approached Matilda Blonken.

"Say," Mogey grunted in his most manly voice, "I think those ribs came from a pig I knew well. Can I make a recommendation?" he asked, looking Matilda straight in the eye. "Try to grab that second rib from top. Ol' Stanley loved to be tickled right there, so I'd bet anything that it'll be tender as all get-out."

"Hmph!" was Matilda Blonken's reply as she hefted one rack of ribs and smacked Mogey across the face with them. Mogey looked at Smush in dismay as she stormed out of the butcher shop.

"So close," Smush said with a shrug.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXXXV

Mogey and Smush's next door neighbor, a plump little partridge named Chaz Spinks, was quite the peculiar fellow. He was the quintessential scientist, always experimenting with this or that, and though a few of his experiments turned out well, the overwhelming majority of them turned out very well.

One day, Chaz Spinks hopped on over to Mogey and Smush's abode, attempting to drag a toy wagon with his tiny beak.

"What've you got there, Spinks?" Smush asked from the front patio.

"It's my latest experiment," said Chaz Spinks, tilting his head and ruffling his chest feathers. He pointed his wing at a glass jar resting in the wagon that contained a clear liquid. Floating in the liquid was what appeared to be a large pat of butter. "You know how there's butterscotch and butter rum?" the neighborly partridge went on. "Well I thought to myself, 'Chaz,' I thought, 'why isn't there any butter gin?' And that, my friends, is exactly what I've created here."

Chaz Spinks offered the glass jar to Smush, who took a sip, savored for a moment, and proceeded to spray the entire mouthful on Mogey.

"Ugh!" Smush shouted, wiping his mouth. "Chaz Spinks, that's quite literally the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted. And Mogey made meatsicles for dinner last night!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXXXIV

One day Mogey and Smush were tandem paragliding across the Mumple River Valley when they were accosted by a flock of seagulls.

"I say, chaps," said one of the seagulls as he flew especially close to Mogey and Smush,"I've never seen a winged creature quite so sluggish."

"Har har har!" the rest of the seagulls laughed. Their chuckles were oddly deep and burly for such squeaky little birds.

"Get out of here, seagull," Mogey said, pointing a fully loaded supersoaker at the offending fowl. "Before I send you back to the stone age."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCCXXXIII

One evening Mogey and Smush were sitting before a roaring fire, drinking mulled cider and reading literary masterpieces.

"Where should we go on holiday this summer?" Smush asked, setting down an enthralling Choose Your Own Adventure novel.

"The Isle of Woost," Mogey answered. "You know, they say nature's bounty is so plentiful there that if you give one of their plump native geese a piece of corn, it'll lay a soft-boiled egg right into your hand."

"That sounds disgusting, Mogey," Smush replied.

"Not when you need ammunition for egg fights, it isn't," said Mogey.