One winter, Mogey went through a handlebar moustache phase. He thought nothing could be grander than his finely waxed whiskers, and his pal Smush would have let him carry on with that foolishness indefinitely if it weren't for Mogey's propensity to slurp his pea soup straight from the bowl.
During the height of his moustache period, Mogey returned home one day to find a box on the kitchen table labeled Do Not Open. Mogey twisted his moustache and thought for a moment before deciding that such a label surely couldn't apply to finely moustachioed fellows like himself.
Upon lifting the cover, Mogey found himself face to face with a Portuguese Ripping Lizard, which promptly jumped out of the box, grabbed hold of the leftmost extremity of Mogey's whiskers, and did just what its name would imply.
"Ho ho!" Smush chortled, walking in to find his pal sporting only one half of a finely waxed moustache. "Looks like the age of the moustache has finally come to an end," he added, tossing Mogey a safety razor. "Finish the job, won't you, Mogey? I'll put the pea soup on."
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