Friday, January 29, 2010

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXXVI

One rainy day Mogey began acting very strangely. He couldn't seem to sit still and walked broodily about the house all morning.

"Whatever's the matter, Mogey?" Smush asked. "Got a bee in your bonnet?"

"No," Mogey replied. "There's no bee. I feel like I've forgotten a wondrous idea I once had and it's driving me batty!"

"That's what I meant," Smush said. "Bee in your bonnet is just an expression."

No sooner had the words left Smush's mouth than an enormously fat bumblebee crawled out from under Mogey's bonnet and proceeded to floodle (the flying equivalent of waddling) across the room and out the window.

"Nope, you were right, Smush," Mogey said. "There was no idea, it was just a bee in my bonnet."

Thursday, January 28, 2010

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXXV

Every so often, Rooster P. Shuttlecock, the chicken who'd taught Mogey and Smush everything they know, would stop in for a little visit. One such occasion occurred on a snowy Tuesday in late February, when Rooster P. Shuttlecock came bobbing up the path. Mogey and Smush burst through the door and came to meet him in the front garden.

"Rooster!" Mogey shouted gleefully. "You're finally back!"

"Buh-caw!" said Rooster P. Shuttlecock.

"You must be freezing," Smush added, brushing the snow from their mentor's feathers. "Why don't you come inside for a nice hot bowl of chicken noodle s--" he began, but stopped when Mogey caught his eye and glared at him. "Or we could fix you a plate of chicken pot p--" Smush tried to say, but halted once again as Mogey shook his vigorously."

"Buck-buck-buck," Rooster P. Shuttlecock replied.

"I know just the thing," Mogey assured him. "It's scarcely past breakfast time and I make the best Eggs Benedict you've ever tasted!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXXIV

One day Smush sauntered into the kitchen to find Mogey hard at work attempting to eat what appeared to be an extremely crunchy sandwich.

"What've you got there?" Smush asked his pal.

"Well," Mogey replied, wiping his eyes, "I thought to myself this morning, I thought, cookie crunch is so tasty in ice cream cake - why shouldn't it be good in other foods? So what I have here is a maple-glazed turkey and cookie crunch sandwich on crusty Italian."

"You know something, Mogey?" Smush said with a sigh. "Sometimes you make me so mad I want to slap a lion right in the face."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXXIII

Over the years, Mogey and Smush's Fanning Palace saw less and less business. At first they'd been wildly successful: folks from all over town had come during the hot summer months to be fanned by all manner of palm fronds, folding fans, and other such devices.

Mogey and Smush had hired a veritable army of apprentice fanners and they'd expanded the business into an enormous warehouse to have enough for their clientele. Now, however, they'd been forced to lay off all their employees except for an overeager young chap named Magoo, and they'd moved back into a little shop on High Street.

Mogey and Smush just couldn't understand where all their customers had gone. It was hot, after all, and hot days had always been their busiest times.

"Sheesh," Mogey said, wiping his brow and glancing around their empty Fanning Palace. "It is hotter than a hot plum pudding in here."

"One hundred and ten degrees, they're saying," Smush replied.

"I can't stand it anymore!" Mogey shouted finally, leaping to his feet. "Can you and Magoo watch the shop for a bit, Smush? I'm going across the street to the bank. They have air conditioning in there that'll knock your socks off."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXXII

One warm spring day Mogey and Smush were walking off an exceptionally hearty and well balanced meal that represented each of the food groups. Crispy fried onion rings represented the vegetable and whole grains categories and chili cheese fries balanced the meal out with dairy and protein.

So Mogey and Smush felt healthy and chipper as they walked beside the River Bulch. After some time, they happened upon a panhandler holding out a battered top hat.

"How'd you gents like to get in on the ground floor of the biggest business in Murtlby this decade?" the panhandler asked. Mogey and Smush stopped dead in their tracks.

"We're listening..." Smush said.

"The name's Pine," the panhandler replied, extending a mitten-ensconced hand (though it was quite warm out). "Q. Pine."

"Well Mr. Pine," Mogey rejoined, "what's your business idea?"

"Straight down to business, eh? I likes it. So everyone likes pigs, see?" Q. Pine began. "But what's the biggest danger of owning 'em? Wolves a' course. A piggie's just a soft little wolf treat oinking in his pen. What they need is a little something to protect 'em. So once I gets me a little money I'm gonna breed pigs with hedgehogs. What wolf would carry off a pig covered in spikes?"

"Poor Q. Pine," Mogey said gently, knowing he was about to dash the panhandler's dreams. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but that's already been invented."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXXI

"Smush! Smush!" Mogey screamed, bursting into Smush's room at the exceptionally early hour of quarter past eleven. "I've been stricken with some horrible affliction!"

"Wha?" Smush mumbled, opening his eyes groggily.

"Say it isn't so, Smush!" Mogey shrieked. "Tell me I haven't got the moose pox!"

"Calm down, Mogey," Smush replied sitting up in bed. "You're fine."

"But my looks are all I've got!"

"It's just ink, I tell you!" Smush shouted, wiping a damp cloth over his pal's face. It came up streaked with blue. "Don't you remember what we were playing last night after supper? This is why I always tell you to wash your face after a game of Freckleface!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXX

Thursday night was always Thumb Rasslin' Night at Mogey and Smush's house. Everyone who lived within ten miles of Tater Manor (as their humble abode was called) would venture out into the night air for an evening of war declarations and sneak attacks.

Unfortunately, Mogey and Smush lived in the deep dark woods of Fooglebern and so the only people who lived within ten miles of Tater Manor were themselves and a homely woodchuck named Leopold. Leopold didn't have the necessary equipment for thumb rasslin (namely, a thumb) but he was an enormous fan of the sport.

One such Thumb Rasslin' Night, Mogey and Smush were locked in a heated battle. Mogey's thumb seemed to have the upper hand, and it stalked Smush's thumb around the ring with all the cunning of a thumb hunting its prey.

"Just a second, Mogey," Smush said finally. "I don't believe we've clarified the full extent of the rules in this match."

"No, Smush!" Mogey shouted, already sure where this was heading.

"I think someone else may have a little something to say about this thumb war," Smush went on.

"Don't...."

"That's right, it's time for ol' Lefty to tag in!" Smush announced. With that he lifted his left thumb high into the air and dropped it with full force, pinning Mogey's battlethumb to the mat. "One, two, three!" Smush yelled.

"BOOM SHAKALAKA!" shrieked Leopold, jumping to his feet.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXIX

One evening Smush walked into the parlor to find Mogey hard at work writing something by the light of a few sputtering candles.

"What're you doing, Mogers?" Smush asked.

"Writing my pen pal," Mogey replied.

"Your pen pal?" Smush demanded. "Where did you meet a pen pal? You've never been more than a hop, skip, and jump outside of Smorgasburg."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Mogey said, putting the finishing touches on his letter. "Look, I'll show you. Every week I write a letter..." he sealed his letter inside an envelope... "and bring it over..." he walked to the the seldom used wardrobe in the corner of the parlor... "to my pen pal."

With that, he threw open the door of the wardrobe to reveal a sort of scarecrow he'd fashioned out of pens. The pen-man had on a pair of spectacles and was holding a sheet of paper in front of his head.

"Mogey--" Smush chided.

"Shh," Mogey whispered sharply. "My pen pal is still reading my last letter."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXVIII

"Smush, I've been thinking," Mogey began one morning as they strode down the many steps that led up to their palatial cabin. "Wouldn't it be easier if we tore out these stairs and put in a nice long slide? That way we could just coast down to get the mail instead of clomp-clomping down this accursed staircase."

"Well-"

"I know what you're going to say, Smush," Mogey interrupted. "How would we get back up? How about this: we put a second slide above the cabin and hike up that hill 'round back. That way we could slide down to get back to the house as well!"

"But-"

"You're right, Smush," Mogey agreed. "That don't make much sense. We might slide right through the house and on down to the mailbox again by accident. What we need is a way to make the inside of the house less slippery. I'm thinking if we get a whole army of hedgehogs...."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXVII

One day that may have been a Saturday, but may also have been some other sort of day you've never heard of, Mogey happened upon Smush, who was hanging a picture in the front hall.

"How're you hanging that?" Mogey asked.

"Just using a couple of tacks and some picture wire," Smush answered. Mogey grunted in reply. "Why?" Smush went on. "How would you hang a picture like this?"

"Smush, you know my policy on wall hangings," Mogey said. "If it ain't the stuffed head of a wild boar, Mogey ain't hanging it."

"I know," Smush said with a sigh. "But I wish you'd let me redecorate for you. Lil' Oinksey gets scared half to death every time he wanders into your room on accident."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXVI

One day Mogey decided he'd had enough of his current hairstyle and set about finding a new one. He tried all manners of wearing his hair over the next few months, from long cornrows to bald and shiny, but he just couldn't seem to find the one that suited him.

Finally, Smush blustered through the door one blustery afternoon, patently out of breath and holding a crumpled advertisement.

"I've got it Mogey!" Smush cried, handing Mogey the paper in his hand. "I've found your new hair!"

"A mool-it?" Mogey asked.

"It's pronounced mullet," Smush replied. "And it's perfect for you. You know I'm not the best reader, but I picked up the words 'business' and 'party' in that ad, so I know it'll be right up your alley."

"I not sure," Mogey said. "It's pretty fancy. If I get that hairdo AND keep my rat tail, people are going to think I've gotten delusions of grandeur or something."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXV

Mogey and Smush had a room above their chicken coup that they rented out from time to time when weary travelers happened by in search of lodging. One such traveler stumbled off the muddy track and up Mogey and Smush's front walk on a misty, drizzly day in mid-Autumn.

Mogey and Smush gave him a cup of hot ovaltine and took him out back to show him the spare room. The man was instantly impressed.

"This room pleases me greatly," he said, pulling off his worn straw hat. "I'll take it. Tucker's the name, Bertram Tucker."

"Well sir, are you plum TUCKERED out?" Mogey asked, collapsing into peals of hysterical laughter at his joke.

"Yes I am," Bertram Tucker replied mirthlessly. "And it ain't no laughing matter. My Great Uncle Ike once got so plum tuckered out that he turned purple and a pit grew right in middle of his chest. And that wasn't the end of it - he wouldn't stop working, even for a drink of water. He got all dry and wrinkly and started smelling funny...wouldn't you know it, he was prune tuckered out."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXIV

Mogey and Smush were merry old souls
and merry old souls they were.
Mogey was the sort to make a kitten bark
but Smush could make a mad dog purr.

One day as they worked in the cucumber fields
where their bales of hay were stacked,
a gang of jaguars heard Mogey's voice
and instantly attacked.

Mogey and Smush ran straight for home
and the pals fell inside in a heap.
Smush called for Jack and he called for Ol' Blue
but the dogs fell fast asleep.

Monday, January 11, 2010

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXIII

One day Smush walked into the study to find Mogey rubbing a very curious substance on his lips. He was dipping the rather pungent stuff out of a big clay urn and applying it liberally.

"Is that a new lip balm, Mogey?" Smush asked. "It stinks to high heaven!"

"Not quite," Mogey replied. "In fact, it's lip embalm."

"Lip embalm?" Smush demanded, recoiling in horror. "But you'll render them useless!"

"Of course I will - I'm mummifying these bad boys," Mogey answered, puckering noisily. "The lips of Mogey will not be bound by the laws of mortality!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXII

One day Mogey and Smush decided to paper the walls of the humble house they shared. They'd finally had enough of the their current wall covering, which consisted of hair stolen from the local barbershop's floor. Smush went out for a bit and came back with three long roles of beautiful paper that was patterned with pictures of cattails swaying in a breeze.

For several long hours they worked, first with barber's shears, then with paste and paper, until their entire house was covered with the lovely cattail print. When they had finished, Mogey and Smush stood in the foyer, admiring their work.

"Those cattails really are fantastic, Smush," Mogey said. "They remind me of an absolutely super summer day spent swimming and chasing tadpoles in Bigman Pond. What do they make you think of?"

"Hot dogs on a stick," Smush muttered wistfully.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLXI

One evening Smush descended from his room looking particularly dapper. He was off to begin courting Miss Bertha Bixby (the most beautiful woman in the county over the age of 60), and so he was, as the old timers say, dressed real smoove.

"That's quite a getup you've gotten up there, Smush," Mogey said, wiping a bit of deviled ham from his cheek. "What's it all made of?"

"Well," Smush replied proudly, "my cravat is of the finest Persian silk. My waistcoat was hand-tailored by Italian craftsman, and my shoes are made of the softest calfskin in all the land."

"And the vest?" Mogey asked in awe. "What about the vest?"

"And the vest is the best piece of all," Smush continued. "I sewed it from the fur of the possum that was rooting around our trash cans last Monday."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLX

One afternoon Mogey and Smush sat down to their typical post-luncheon snack: a steaming pan of strudel accompanied by several heaping scoops of rocky road double fudge brickle ice cream.

"Smush, I've been thinking," Mogey said as he dug a spoon into the rocky road double fudge brickle. "Maybe it's time we start eating a bit healthier. You know what they say: an apple a day keeps the doctor away."

"Aye," Smush replied. "But I also know what we say: an apple strudel a day keeps the baker away. And seeing as our baker is a bloodthirsty Hessian mercenary, I think it's probably better for our health to stay on the old strudel diet, wouldn't you think?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLIX

One morning Mogey and Smush were working down on the docks, hauling sacks of lobsterfeed from big wooden palates into the lobster boats. The lobsterfeed was stinky stuff, and as such attracted a large number of seabirds.

"Squawk!" said one seabird, strutting in front of Mogey and Smush and cocking his head at them.

"That's it! It's go time!" Mogey yelled, dropping the sack of lobsterfeed and rushing toward the offending poultry with intentions of throttling it.

"Now, now, Mogey," Smush said soothingly as he restrained his pal. "It's just a puffin."

"I know!" Mogey shouted. "And he's puffin' his chest out at ME. He's a dead man I tell yeh, a dead man!"

Suddenly the puffin let out another squawk and flew over their heads, landing in the midst of dozens of his buddies, who'd torn open Mogey's abandoned sack and were now beak deep in lobsterfeed.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLVIII

One day Mogey and Smush were ambling down the carriage track through town when the loveliest woman they'd ever laid eyes on emerged from Gelbo McIntyre's silk shop. She must have weighed eighteen stone and was wearing a red checkered dress that still bore streaks of barbecue sauce from the afternoon meal. As Mogey and Smush watched, the lovely creature paused, put a hand to her mouth, and emitted a sneeze so dainty that the pigeons in the village bell tower erupted into the air with fright.

"Please, miss, take my handkerchief!" Smush said, rushing to the enchantress's side.

"No, m'lady, take mine," Mogey yelled, leaping in front of Smush and knocking his hand away. "His handkerchief is naught but a patch torn from his pants!" The woman looked at the tear in Smush's pants knee and saw that this was so.

"That may be," the noble lady replied. "But what is your handkerchief if not a cheeseburger wrapper still containing unfinished food?"

"There's still a bite left?" Mogey demanded, leaping forward and snatching the corner of cheeseburger from the wrapper. "Don't worry, madame, I'll take care of that for you!" He crammed the burger into his mouth and let the sounds of his chomping wash over the woman of his dreams.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLVII

One rainy day Mogey and Smush were indoors enjoying a late luncheon of boiled potatoes, boiled ham, and boiled wild grouse shank with habanero chutney.

"You know what spice should be on every table, in addition to the salt and pepper?" Smush asked.

"Tarragon, of course," Mogey replied, dabbing grouse juice from his lip.

"No."

"Coriander then," Mogey said with certainty.

"No," Smush replied, "I was thinking of--"

"Paprika? Nutmeg? Caraway?"

"Butterscotch pudding," Smush answered. "Tell me...what's butterscotch pudding NOT good on?"

"You've got something there, Smush," Mogey said respectfully. "You really have got something! Just think, one day far in the future, when there's a tub of butterscotch pudding is at every fashionable dinner table, your great grandchildren will be able to look back and say that their great-grandfather Smush was the first. The butterscotch pudding pioneer!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLVI

One evening Mogey saw that his great Aunt Mildred had passed on, leaving him (he thought) with a sizable chunk of money.

"Smush," he said at the dinner table, "my great Aunt Mildred has passed on. What shall I do with my newly acquired monies?"

"Well, for starters I'll take the 10 quid you owe me," Smush replied.

"I do not either owe you 10 quid!" Mogey retorted.

"Yes you do, you lost our bet as to whether or not pigs bounce, and never paid up!" Smush insisted.

"I only bet that a pig would bounce a bit, not that it would bounce all the way back to the second story window!" Mogey yelled back heatedly.

"Boys! Boys!" cried great Aunt Mildred, who was sitting right next to Smush. "The only thing I passed on was that plate of brussel sprouts. You shan't be getting of my monies for a long while yet."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLV

One afternoon Mogey and Smush were headed home from the market heavily laden with radishes and meat pies when they happen to pass by the oldest pub in town.

"Say, goodly Smush, what's that mean?" Mogey asked, pointing to the pub's cornerstone which was engraved Est. 1582.

"It stands for estimated 1,582," Smush replied. "That means they guess they've served about 1,582."

"1,582 what? Mogey queried.

"Hot dogs of course," Smush answered. "Sheesh, don't you know anything?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume CCLIV

There was nothing in the world that transfixed Mogey and Smush so much as gems. Once, when they were working down in the mines, Smush dug up an entire sack of gems someone had hidden there long ago.

"Don't let the foreman see!" Mogey whispered sharply. "He'll take them away!"

So Smush tucked the bag under his shirt and he and Mogey snuck out of the mine, giddy as two marmosets in a fig tree. They crept into Farmer Barmer's (a convenient name/profession pairing if ever there was one) barn and stole a fresh jug of milk, and they split the sack right down the middle. Each of the pals got half the gems and poured themselves a bowl. Then they covered the gems in Farmer Barmer's fresh milk and dug in with vigor, because they were honey coated gems with nut clusters, the most delicious gems there are.