"Constable! Constable!" Mogey shouted. "Please help! Someone's stolen the hot dog I was about to eat!"
"A stolen hot dog, eh?" replied Constable Carter Mcgraw, a moustachioed man who could spit farther than he could walk and juggle eleven babies at once. "What about that one there?" he asked, pointing to the hot dog in Mogey's hand.
"We got that afterward," Smush answered as Mogey took a bite of the dog in question. "Mogey had to get some sustenance before we brought this problem to the authorities."
"Tell me what happened," Contstable Carter McGraw said.
"I was watching a moustachioed man juggling nearly half a dozen babies," Mogey expounded, "when suddenly the hot dog in my hand was gone, replaced by a mysterious infant I'd never met before. Before I knew it, the moustachioed baby-juggler had scooted away, and I was one hot dog poorer, and one baby richer."
"Say," Smush said, "what ever happened to that baby?"
"He's around here somewhere," Mogey replied. "But on to more important matters: what say you, Constable?"
"Very fishy," Constable Carter McGraw said, wiping some mustard from his upper lip. "It sounds like the work of my evil brother, Porter McShaw."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment