"Smush! Smush! Come quickly!" Mogey shouted, his voice echoing down the hallways of Big Butte Manor.
Thinking his pal was in the direst of circumstances, Smush hustled all the way from his laboratory in the East Wing to Mogey's private chambers at the tip-top of the tallest tower. He arrived, panting, only to find Mogey, still in his nightshirt, examining the back of his own head in a mirror.
"What is it, Mogey?" Smush asked with a sigh.
"Look at this monstrous bump on my head!" Mogey wailed. "The aliens have finally gotten to me, Smush. They've implanted a tracking device beneath my scalp."
"Putty and butterscotch!" Smush snorted. "Putty and butterscotch I say! There's no alien tracking device. That bump is from when the clock radio fell off the shelf in the den yesterday and landed right on your noggin."
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