One morning, Mogey and Smush were at the market, bartering with the fig saleswoman.
"Twenty cents per pound is outrageous, I tell you," Mogey exclaimed. "I won't pay more than fifteen."
"I cannot deal with this person!" the exasperated fig farmer retorted, turning to Smush. "Already today, ten people pay twenty cent."
"You must have bats in your belfry," said Mogey.
"Say," Smush interrupted. "Speaking of bats in the belfry, weren't you supposed to bat-sit Friar Jeremy's bat colony in the bell tower all week while he's in Acapulco?"
"Gadzooks! You're right, Smush!" Mogey cried, and he took off in the direction of the bell tower.
Smush purchased a half pound of figs and returned home at a leisurely pace. He was sitting down to enjoy a freshly baked figgy pudding and I cup of tea, when Mogey burst through the door, covered in dust and sweat.
"Smush! Smush?" he yelled, eventually stumbling upon his pal. "Thank goodness you're here. I need your help. Do you know anywhere around here where I could buy a dozen bats? Also, do you think that new vacuum cleaner of yours is strong enough to suck up a bat skeleton?"
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