The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 522

"What should we do next, Mogey?" Smush asked as the two pals strode between a large pile of goat manure and the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair.

"I desperately want to win a prize for Cynthia Brickle!" Mogey said. "But I can't think of a single carnival game I'm good at. I haven't the strength for the hammer game, the accuracy for the water pistols, nor the mental fortitude for whack-a-mole."

"There, there, Mogey," Smush consoled his friend, patting him on the back. Mogey stared listlessly out at the rows of bright lights and flashing colors.

"Hang on a second!" Mogey exclaimed, suddenly cheery. "There's a game I can do! Kiss the bearded lady and win a prize - it's a carnival classic."

"Mogey, wait! You don't understand," Smush urged, but Mogey was already jogging up the steps of a kissing booth. Before anyone knew exactly what was happening, Mogey had seized the kissing booth attendant by the back of the neck and administered a smooch that could be heard halfway across the fairground.

"I did it!" Mogey shouted, prancing around the booth with his hands held up like a prizefighter. "I kissed the bearded lady! What did I win? What prize will I bring to my sweet Cynthia?"

Smush sighed and shook his head as the burly, albeit dashing, lumberjack who had been manning the kissing booth stared at Mogey in dismay and furiously wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 521

On a day so cold that it was impossible to go outside without at least four pieces of cinnamon gum on one's person at all times, Mogey and Smush went into an empty cornfield to try out Smush's new boomerang.

"See here, Mogey," Smush said confidently. "I saw a shaman demonstrate this technique. All you do is grip the boomerang thisaways and give it a nice strong throw."

Smush whipped the boomerang across the field where it crashed gracelessly into the woods.

"Isn't it supposed to come back?" Mogey asked. Smush ignored the question and began to trudge grumpily in the direction the boomerang had gone.

Mogey was hurrying to catch up when the boomerang burst forth from the forest and flew across the field, spinning to a gentle landing at Smush's feet with two steaming cups of hot cocoa sitting atop it.

"Ha!" Smush shouted joyfully. "Told you I knew how to do this!" Grabbing one of the cups of hot cocoa (which was quickly becoming cold cocoa), Smush once again heaved the boomerang away, only to have it crash once more into the woods. The device returned again, however, this time bearing a mostly-full box of fruit-by-the-foot.

"What a miraculous thing!" Mogey shouted, already consuming his fruit at a rate not measurable in feet. This time he took his turn, chucking the boomerang with all his might to see it disappear into the forest once more.

Hidden behind several layers of trees, a rogue weasel named Mr. Goosewithers chuckled evilly to himself as he caught the boomerang and strapped two exploding cigars to it. He had designs on Mogey and Smush's chicken coup, and his meticulously thought-out plan was finally coming to fruition. At last he thought, as he threw the boomerang back out toward the unsuspecting goofballs in the cornfield, at last the chicken coup will be mine!

"Hey look, cigars!" Smush exclaimed as the boomerang landed in front of them once more. "Boomerang, you old so-and-so, I don't know how you do it, but you've done it again!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 520

After Mogey and Smush's farmhouse was burgled for the 2nd time in 3 weeks (thieves had taken their great-grandfather's golden pocketwatch AND a top secret experimental recipe for raisin buns), the two pals decided they needed to invest in some home protection. So they strapped Jasper, their strongest donkey, to the cart and made their way down to Enormo-mart.

Smush procured a map and an official Enormo-mart sherpa and began exploring the wide array of ninja stars the store had to offer. After a bit, Mogey came around the corner pushing a shopping trolley loaded to the gills with pens, pencils, and ink.

"What are you doing with all those pens, Mogey?" Smush asked, glancing up from a Gizzard Slicer 5000.

"You know how they say that the pen is mightier than the sword?" Mogey said.

"Yes, I suppose I do," Smush replied, chuckling to himself. He knew his pal well enough to follow this line of thought to its obvious conclusion.

"I'm going to load these bad boys up with angry bees and hang them over all the doorways," Mogey continued. "Then I'll spray the next unlucky burgler who enters our house with stolen honey. My wrath will descend on him like the hammer of Thor."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 519

"I don't know why everyone says it's so hard to ride a bucking bronco," Mogey said, removing his cowboy hat and using his shirt sleeve to wipe sweat from his brow. "That was the second-easiest thing I ever did in my life."

"What was first?" Smush inquired.

"Deciding whether or not to have a third slice of sweet potato pie last night."

"Of course," Smush replied, nodding sagely. "Well, it was quite a ride."

"I just can't get over it," Mogey said. "All these big tough guys with their spurs, and their moustaches, and their arrays of fine soaps and lotions, are always complaining about the fearsome bucking broncos. How they put their lives in danger; how they need clowns to save them after they get bucked off. I just rode that bucking bronco better than any of 'em on my first try! What's the deal, wisest Smush?"

"I'm not sure," Smush answered. "Although it could be that the big tough guys you speak of ride actual bucking broncos, whereas you just hopped on a horse-shaped spring rider at the playground."

"Nah," Mogey said assuredly. "That can't be it."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 518

Mogey was in the market for a new pipe, and so he and Smush packed a burlap sack full of peanut butter, fluff, and bacon sangwiches and headed into town. Spotting a respectable looking establishment called Corncob Robert's House o' Pipes, the two pals stepped inside to see what they could see.

"Good afternoon!" bellowed the bearded, bespectacled, bulbous proprieter when they entered.

"Hello there, old bean," Smush replied. "Be you Corncob Robert?"

"That I am," he answered. "But please, call me Cob Bob - everyone does. What can I do for you fine sirs?"

"Sheesh, Cob Bob," Mogey said, breaking into a fit of giggles. "My old pipe has worn out and I'm in dire need of a new one." At least, that's what Mogey had been telling everyone. In actual fact, Mogey had never smoked a pipe in his life and didn't, technically speaking, know which end of a pipe went in one's mouth. But he thought being a pipe smoker sounded awfully sophisticated to the ladies.

"Well as you can see, we've got a fine selection here," Cob Bob explained. "What sort of pipe are you looking for?"

"How much are these Southington numbers on the top shelf?" Smush asked.

"Five pieces of silver," Cob Bob replied. "Or, if you prefer, one medium-to-large laying hen and a book of brainteasers."

"Sheesh, Cob Bob," Mogey said, laughing even harder this time. "That's a pretty steep price. What else have you got?"

"The clay pipes are quite nice," said Cob Bob, looking a bit put off. "They'll only run you two pieces of silver or an exceptionally creepy jack-in-the-box."

"Sheesh--," Mogey began, but Cob Bob had grabbed him by the shirt collar and hauled him up onto the counter.

"If you say Sheesh Cob Bob one more time," Cob Bob growled, "I swear on the life of my pet penguin's unborn child that I will not sell you a pipe today, nor until the end of time."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 517

"Top of the morning to you, Mogey," Smush said as he slid down the spiral tube slide that led from his bedchamber to his and Mogey's secret food pantry in the cellar of the Dexter School for Troublemaking Lads. "What are your plans for this fine St. Patrick's Day?"

"Well," replied Mogey, delicately spearing a fried mackerel with his fork and biting its head off, "as you may or may not know, I have two St. Patrick's Day traditions."

"I did not know that," Smush said. This wasn't entirely true: he did, in fact, know that Mogey had two St. Patrick's Day "traditions," but he also knew that said "traditions" changed each and every year.

"Firstly, I save a snake's life," Mogey expounded. "St. Patrick, as you are probably aware, was quite fond of snakes. After I'm in possession of the rescued snake, I sneak into Miss March's Academy for Shrill Girls and set it loose in the coatroom. You've never seen such havoc in your life!"

"Did St. Patrick have it out for shrill girls," Smush asked, "or what?"

"No, no," Mogey said, still chuckling to himself, "the first tradition is for St. Patrick, the second one is solely for me."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 516

"Silence is paramount," Mogey whispered to Smush as they crept along. "Even the slightest noise could alert the enemy to our presence."

He was right, of course, for Mogey and Smush were en route to steal one of Missus Abernathy's crumble top mincemeat pies. The mission was more difficult than it might seem - Missus Abernathy was in her eighties and blinder than a mole baby, but she was known to fire her crossbow out the window without warning if she suspected pie thieves were about.

Smush nodded seriously and the pals scampered through Missus Abernathy's back garden, only stopping once they were crouched below the windowsill where several pies sat cooling.

Smush gave Mogey the previously agreed-upon hand signal (rock horns) and Mogey got to his feet and quickly removed the crumble top mincemeat pie from the windowsill. He and Smush had begun to creep stealthily away, when Mogey stepped on a stray ostrich egg that had rolled into the yard. The egg issued a loud crack, followed by an even louder splat, and almost instantly, Missus Abernathy was at the window with the crossbow at her shoulder.

"Who goes there?" Missus Abernathy demanded, cocking her head in the direction of the now-frozen Mogey and Smush. They could see hundreds of tiny pies with X's through them carved into the handle of the crossbow - one for every pie thief she had iced. "I'll tan your hides and put you in my next pie, I say!" she shouted.

Missus Abernathy felt around the windowsill with her spare hand, apparently assuming that the pie thieves had gone.

"Ah well, they've only gotten the crumble top mincemeat," she muttered. "Thank goodness they didn't take my strawberry-gooseberry. That's the true winner of the bunch."

As Missus Abernathy wandered away from the window, Mogey and Smush exchanged a significant look. They knew that either the strawberry-gooseberry pie would be theirs, or they'd get a crossbow quarrel to the hip flexer trying. And no pie ever tasted so good as that strawberry-gooseberry one did when Mogey and Smush finally devoured it in the waiting room outside Saint Ignacious Memorial Crossbow Wound Treatment Center.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 515

After a long afternoon of hunting wooly mammoths, giant bison, and winged woodchucks, Smush returned home to his tipi, excited to check in on his brand new, tricked out aquarium. The aquarium was a glistening, 50 gallon job that Smush had spent months stocking with exotic fish and crustaceans from around the globe.

No sooner had Smush opened his tipi flap than he saw Mogey inside with his feet propped up on the table, dangling a fishing pole into the aquarium.

"What are you doing in my tipi, Mogey?" Smush demanded angrily.

"Fishin'," Mogey replied lazily. "Check it out, I've already caught three of the little orange ones, six of the silvery funny looking ones, and even this miniature crab. A couple more and we should have enough for a fish kabob. Ho ho ho."

"Why in the world would you go fishing in an aquarium when there's a perfectly good river outside teaming with rainbow trout?" Smush asked.

"Because these ones are so little and delicious-looking," Mogey said. "I don't think you quite understand, Smush. I'm making a fish kabob. You know, like 'shish kabob.'"

"How could you do such a thing?" Smush asked. "I put my heart and soul into that aquarium."

"Sheesh, don't be so selfish, Smush," Mogey muttered, turning back to his fishing pole. "I just caught you dinner for goodness sakes."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 514

One hazy spring afternoon, Mogey and Smush got into one of the most heated arguments of their long friendship. The pals simply could not agree on what sort of apple trees they should plant in their orchard.

"What about Granny Smith apples?" Smush ventured.

"No way, Jose," Mogey replied. "My Grandpa Smith told me that Granny Smiths were pure evil! I'm partial to a red delicious - what say you to that?"

"Ugh, more like 'red disgusting,'" Smush said. "I know: we could plant some mcintoshes."

"I would rather consume a sandwich made out of cabbage, mayonnaise, and your neck hairs than eat a mcintosh apple," Mogey asserted.

"Well what does it matter?" Smush said finally. "These trees won't have apples on them for a dozen years or more."

"A dozen years?" Mogey demanded. "But that's an eternity! Next thing you're going to tell me that they won't be covered in caramel when we pick them!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 513

On a journey to Far Off Figgington, Mogey and Smush came upon an old, rickety rope bridge that spanned a gorge deep enough to hold 800,000 killer whales who had just eaten 800,000 other killer whales. The bridge's slats were missing in places, rotten in others, and at some points, blatantly made of such substandard building materials as cloth diapers and hot pocket boxes.

"What say you, Mogey?" Smush said, staring out at the bridge.

"Be not afraid," Mogey replied serenely. "She'll hold us."

"I'm not so sure," said Smush. "It looks awfully rickety out there."

"Be not afraid, Smush," Mogey repeated. "Trust in the map - it told us to come this way."

Without replying, Smush hefted a rock no bigger than a midget's fist and lobbed it toward the middle of the bridge. Issuing no more than a mild creek, all four bridge supports snapped, and the entire contraption plummeted to the depths - slats, ropes, and all.

"It just goes to show that there's truth to that old saying, "Smush said. "Never put too much creedence in a map purchased from a troll wearing overalls."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 512

"Alrighty, the next item on the agenda is ball game snacks," Smush announced, peering down through his spectacles. He was leading a bi-weekly meeting of the "Club of Best," an organization dedicated to deciding the best thing in every imaginable category.

"Do I hear nominations?" Smush continued. "Best ball game snacks?"

"Hot dogs," Mogey suggested.

"Peanuts!" squeaked Vole Richard, one of the more diminutive members of the club.

"Soft pretzels," volunteered Lil' Esquire, their resident rapper/attorney.

"You are all wrong!" shouted Thundercuss the Magnificent, a mighty viking lord who served as club treasurer and bake sale manager. "Nachos are the greatest ball game snack!"

"I think Thundercuss makes some good points," Smush said nervously. "Are we in agreement that nachos are the best food at a ball game?"

"Aye," said the entire assemblage in a shaky unison, causing Thundercuss the Magnificent to look very pleased indeed.

"I thought he was off his rocker when he made us vote Marmaduke the best comic strip of all time," Mogey whispered to Lil' Esquire. "But nachos at a ball game? That Thundercuss is killing us!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 511

As young lads, Mogey and Smush often yearned to do something illegal. Some of their pals were known to steal zebras from the zoo and race them down busy thoroughfares; others would snag a nip of moonshine from Old Man Crankus when he was napping on his front porch. The bravest and foolhardiest of all would play pranks on Missus Lamb, the owner of the penny candy store, who was known to pull a 12-gauge shotgun out of her hoopskirts at the slightest provocation.

Mogey and Smush didn't like the sounds of all that, but it became a source of great shame that they had yet to break a single law, rule, or ordinance. So when they happened upon what appearred to be an illegal animal fighting ring down by the creek, they mustered their courage and stepped inside.

The operation was housed inside a musty, semi-permanent tent, inside of which dozens of bearded, burly men stood about, shouting, exchanging money, and generally roughhousing. Mogey and Smush, being small of stature (if not of girth) were able to squeeze their way, mostly undetected, to the edge of the ring.

"What in the world are those things?" Mogey asked as they peered into the battle arena.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," Smush replied.

Inside a wooden circle stood two creatures that looked like throw-pillows with stubby arms, stubby legs, and great googily eyes atop their pillow bodies. They were exceptionally adorable. As Mogey and Smush watched, the pillow-creatures waddled slowly toward one another and bumped chests several times until one of them toppled gently to the ground. Half the crowd cheered deliriously, while the other half audibly murmered "Awwwww."

"Sir?" Smush asked, tugging on the sleeve of a nearby man. "What are we watching?"

"Pillah fight," the man grunted, wiping tears of joy from his eyes. "Ain't they adorable?"