Mogey and Smush, who were expert sneakers, snuck carefully into the Prince's mansion the night of the annual Grand Ball. Their main intention was to appropriate as many top notch appetizers as they could, but befriending a wealthy young duchess or two wasn't out of the question if they had enough time.
The pals split up as soon as they gained entrance to the fortified house, and they proceeded to consume copious quantities of crab cakes and bacon-wrapped prunes. After about 20 minutes of gorging, Smush came upon Mogey, who was eating a spare rib and looking most disheveled.
"Mogey!" Smush whispered sharply. "Tuck your shirt in!"
"That's preposterous," Mogey replied.
"It is not," Smush retorted. "We're among classy folk here. Every man in this room has his shirt tucked in."
"True," Mogey replied. "But it's perfectly impossibly to tuck a shirt in if you're not wearing any pants."
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