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."
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