The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 624

Mogey and Smush strode into the train station feeling as relaxed and confident as a duck taking a bubble bath while wearing a life jacket; they were bound for East Boingburgh, where the streets are paved with pavement. Really fancy pavement.

"You're sure you remembered the tickets?" Smush asked.

"Of course I remembered the tickets," Mogey replied.

"Good. It's nice to be travelling in style for once instead of jumping boxcars like some--"

"Quick!" Mogey exclaimed. "The train's moving! Now's our chance to make a run for it!" He seized Smush's hand and together the pals raced alongside the caboose, grabbed the lowest rungs of a ladder, and with great effort, hauled themselves up onto the roof.

"I thought..." Smush panted, "you said... we had tickets!"

"We do! Oh, you thought I meant inside-the-car tickets? Don't be silly, Smush - we're not made of money."

"If we're just riding on top of the train, who in the world did you buy tickets from?"

"Crazy Tot Tater," Mogey replied, gesturing to a hobo riding the roof of a car down the train a ways. Crazy Tot Tater waved back cheerily. "He gave us a great deal. Plus, unlike the rich people down below, we get a free pan of corn pone and a helping of weasel bacon!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 623

One morning, Smush looked up from his bowl of wheat nut bunches to see Mogey entering the room, attired in one of his strangest outfits of all time.

"What in heaven's name have you got on?" Smush queried.

"Armor," Mogey replied.

"Armor? Mogey, you're wearing a Hawaiian shirt, platform shoes, and a fur diaper."

"That's right - it's girl-proof armor. I have a lot to get done today and I can't have ladies hanging all over me the way they normally do."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 622

On the night of what was to be the "Storm of the Century," Mogey and Smush were hunkered down, hoping against hope that the wind wouldn't blow the roof off their chicken coop... again. Every time the roof had flown off before, eight or nine chickens had gone with it, and being that these were soft-boiled egg laying chickens, they weren't easily replaced. So far, however, the Storm of the Century had brought no rain and scarcely a breath of wind.

"Who did you hear about this storm from, again?" Smush asked Mogey in their makeshift storm shelter (a quilt hung between two folding chairs).

"Brambles Bergeron," Mogey replied. "He sent out warnings to all the neighbors."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Mogey and Smush answered it to find none other than Brambles Bergeron himself on their doorstep.

"Hiya fellahs," Brambles said, "aren't you coming on down to my 'Storm of the Century' party? The whole neighborhood is there."

"For goodness sakes, Mogey," Smush exclaimed. "It was a party invitation? He thought you had sent out a warning to prepare for an actual storm," he told Brambles.

"But didn't you notice that it said to bring beef jerky and delicious beverages?" Brambles asked.

"I thought those were emergency supplies and that we were all supposed to gather on the high ground at your barn," Mogey said.

"In that case, why didn't we go to Brambles' place anyway?" Smush asked.

"Listen, I didn't wait on line for the most choice cuts of beef jerky in town just to share it with a bunch of slow pokes. If I weather out this storm, I'm going to do it in my blanket fort while munching my beef jerky."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 621

"What are you doing, Mogey?" Smush asked as Mogey showed up with his face covered in flour.

"I'm not Mogeyyyyyy," Mogey replied in an eerie voice. "I'm Senor Spooooooky Mannnnn." 

"Ok. So why do you have..."

"Spooooooooky!"

"...flour all over your..."

"Spoooooooooooooooooooooooooky!"

"Goodness gracious," Smush exclaimed after his pal had interrupted him for the second time. "I know some people get into the Halloween spirit, but Senor Spooky Man is a bit much."

"What? Halloween?" Mogey demanded, snapping completely out of character. "I had no idea it was Halloween! Senor Spooky Man was just a hilarious, hilarious prank I was pulling on you. I need to get going! Some of the best trick-or-treating houses will already be out of candy." 

"No, Mogey, Halloween isn't until next week," Smush tried to say, but it was too late. Mogey was long gone, leaving only a smokey cloud of all purpose flour in his wake.  

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 620

On a cool spring day, Mogey and Smush stood in front of the newly completed Jim "Jiminy-Jim-Jim" Jaroo Memorial Geodesic Dome, munching on corn dogs as they admired the craftsmanship.

"Say, what's the difference between concrete and cement, anyway?" Mogey asked.

"Cement is an ingredient in concrete," Smush replied knowledgeably. "So you would say that dome is made from concrete, not cement."

"Sort of like how all rectangles are circles, but not all circles are squares?"

"Not even slightly."

"Ah," Mogey said. "Good corn dogs though, eh?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 619

"What are you doing? You're going to be freezing," Smush groaned as Mogey met him out front to attend the ice-carving festival wearing only his shirt sleeves. "Put on a coat, will you?"

"Alriiiiiiight," Mogey replied, stomping back inside the gypsy caravan where he lived with six turtles and an owl named Blumbus.

Smush waited for his pal by a rickety pickety fence, idly imagining the magnificent ice sculptures they would see that night: ice bears, ice flower gardens, ice castles, and perhaps, if they were lucky, an ice Jon Bon Jovi. 

"How's this?" Mogey asked, emerging from the caravan dripping with what appeared to be white paint.

"Not good, Mogey, not good..." Smush said, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head slowly.

"Why? I put on a fresh coat, just like you asked."

"I wanted you to put on an article of clothing, not a coat of paint! How would that even keep you warm?"

"Next time you'll just have to be more specific," Mogey replied. "And I'll have you know that I'm quite cozy inside this layer of Eggshell No. 4."

"Now that we've got that settled, go put on a jacket," Smush insisted. "And I swear to the god of meatball sangwiches that if you come out here wearing a book jacket or something, I'll throw you into Gorgeous George's Gorge of Gore."

"Don't be silly, Smush," Mogey said. "I don't own any books."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 618

"Why the long face, Mogey?" Smush asked as Mogey stomped into his study, dragging his feet and flopping his arms about like a Portuguese noodle maker.

"You're typewriter is broken," Mogey replied.

"What? That's terrible! What's wrong with it?"

"Every time I try to use it, the dang thing slaps a bunch of letters on the page." 

"I see," Smush said, relaxing. "And what were you expecting it to do?"

"Umm, well," Mogey began contemptuously, "as the name implies, I expected it to tie, pry, or tear, not make it look like I'm trying to write some kind of... words." 

"Why do you want to tie, pry, or tear a sheet of paper anyway?"

"I wanted to tear a piece of paper in half in order to make Nellie Peterson a birthday card. Fat chance of that happening now - the paper I bought is all covered in letters and what-not like I'm some kind of an algebraticionary scholar of language over here."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 617

"Oy! What are you two doing over there?" Mogey shouted, bursting out of the house and traversing the front yard at a speed so fast it could nearly be deemed a waddle.

A pair of lovely young ladies had knelt down by Mogey and Smush's duck pond were petting their pet mallard, Bonkis.

"We just stopped to admire your duck," one of the girls replied. "I hope that's alright."

"No miss, I'm afraid it isn't," Mogey said, readjusting his bathrobe. "There's been a ducknapper in the area, and I'd prefer it if you lassies would move along."

"What are you doing, Mogey?" Smush exclaimed. He had arrived on the scene just as the ladies were departing. "They were beautiful! We should have offered them a cup of tea or a slice of liver pie."

"Do you understand what a ducknapper is, Smush? Do you?" Mogey demanded. "It's someone who kidnaps ducks. Well that's not happening on my watch. Not to Bonkis, nor his wife Pleidies, nor his ducklings Knuckle, Chuckle, and Vlad. No sir."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 616

"I'm just so nervous," Smush muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the drugstore. "I can't take it!"

"Deep breaths, Smush," Mogey said. "Deep breaths."

"But what if she says no? Ursula Enchilada is the prettiest gal in town! How can a guy like me approach such a rotund beauty?"

"Smush, let me tell you a dirty little secret about talking to girls that you won't hear in the movies: Talking to them is easy; the only hard part is convincing yourself to take a risk."

"Hmm," Smush replied pensively. "You heard that line in a movie, didn't you?"

"Mmyes," Mogey admitted, bowing his head in shame. "But that doesn't make it any less valid. It's just one of the many valuable lessons one might learn from Killerman Killington IV: Stank Pizza."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 615

"Lines, lines, lines, LINES!" Smush exclaimed. "I'm fed up with their tyranny!"

"What's that, Smush?" Mogey queried.

"I'm trying to complete the income tax return for our farm, and I loathe all these lined pages. Why can't I write where I please? A letter here, a letter there, curlycues and whirlaroos, up, down, and all around." 

"Well I suppose you could, but then nobody would be able to read it."

"Who cares?" Smush replied. "It's all nonsense anyway. I just make it up as I go along."

"I see," Mogey said. "You say it's our tax return you're working on?"

"Yup."

"We're going to jail, aren't we?"

"We sure are."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 614

One morning, Mogey and Smush were scaling the vines of ivy that adorned the outer walls of Lumper's Lumber Mill, feeling carefree and happy as two Norwegians at a well-air-conditioned square dance. The ivy was so easy to climb that the two pals didn't realize just how high they'd gotten until Smush looked down.

"Holy moly, Mogey," he announced. "We should get out of here!"

"We'll be ok," Mogey insisted. "The ivy will keep us safe."

"What in the world are you talking about?" Smush exclaimed.

"He's right, Smush," a large ivy leaf suddenly replied, in a voice as deep and rich as a velvet cup full of egg nog. "I won't let you fall."

The sight of a talking ivy leaf surprised Smush so greatly that he lost his footing and plummeted earthward, narrowly avoiding his doom by landing a rain barrel. He erupted out of the water, unhurt but yelling hither and yon about scheming vines.

"Nice one, ivy," Mogey said, chuckling as he gave the talking plant some dap.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 613

Mogey and Smush were ambling across the Goofperth Canyon Bridge one afternoon when they encountered a porcupine going the other direction.

"Say," Mogey said to Smush, "will you have a look at that porcupine? He's got gummy bears stuck all over his quills."

"What?" the porcupine exclaimed, for he had been eavesdropping, which is not very polite, but come on, what else is there to do when you're crossing Goofperth Canyon Bridge?

The porcupine began craning his neck around in an effort to see his own spines. "Phew!" he sighed, when he'd finally caught sight of the candies impaled on his back. "You nearly gave me the fright of my life."

"Why's that?" Smush asked.

"Gummy bears went out of fashion like 4 years ago," the porcupine replied, turning up his nose at our heroes. "These are all gummy lobsters. Read Distinguished Spiney Gentleman sometime - you might learn something."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 612

“Sure are a lot of mice out in the barn this year,” Mogey said, coming in from the cold and stamping the snow off his boots. “I was thinking… maybe we should get a cat.”

“No, no way,” Smush replied. “I’ll never get a cat. I’m already the second-smartest person in this house – I don’t want to be third.”

“Aw shucks, that’s nice of you, Smush, but I don’t think I’m any smarter than you.”

“I was actually referring to Pietro as the number one smartest, not you.”

“Pietro… the pig?” Mogey queried.

“Pietro the Pig,” Smush confirmed, nodding solemnly.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 611

One evening, Mogey's nurse was performing his nightly ear inspection (gnats had a tendency to nest in Mogey's ears) while Smush sat nearby keeping the two of them company.

"Don't forget, Smush," the nurse said, raising her eyes from Mogey's ears sternly, "you've got to take your pill tonight."

"Right-o," Smush replied. "Thanks for reminding me." He unwrapped a small cod-and-butter sandwich from a paper bag on the table and began to eat it.

"You call your nightly sandwich a 'pill?'" Mogey asked skeptically.

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't," Smush retorted. "But at least I don't still have a nurse at the ripe old age of 42."

"Whatever! I'd only be, like, seven in dog years."

"Not at all how dog years work, Mogey. Not even a little."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 610

"Well, Mogey," Smush announced as he strode into the chicken coop with a book of weighlifting exercises and a jug of muscle milk, "I've purchased us two gym memberships."

"Gym memberships?" Mogey demanded, disgustedly throwing down two eggs he had recently retrieved. "I always thought we were the type of guys who got strong by lifting logs and stones out in the forest."

"Have you ever lifted a log or a stone in your life?"

"Of course not," Mogey replied. "That's what we have Lumberjack Pierre and Bertram the Rockbuster for."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 609

On a day so cold that penguins shivered and icicles grew icicles, Mogey strode into the house wearing a tank top and stomped the snow off his boots.

"Land alive!" Smush cried. "Aren't you freezing, dressed like that on a day like this?"

"Nah," Mogey replied. "I was quite comfortable."

Smush crept forward to inspect his pal. Sure enough there was nary a goosebump nor a moosebump nor even a papoosebump to be found. In fact...

"I say, are you actually sweating?" Smush demanded.

"Yeah," Mogey admitted around a mouthful of doughnut. "But that's because I ate a dozen doughnuts down at Waffle King. I always get sweaty when I'm eating doughnuts."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 608

Smush was doing something very foolish. He had climbed way out to the perilously slender end of a branch midway up their apple tree, and he was reaching out for the plumpest, juiciest apple in the whole orchard. He was only a few tempting inches away, so he inched a bit further and stretched his hand out as far as it would go.

Suddenly Smush felt himself losing his balance, and before he knew it he had tumbled through the air to land flat on his back atop several hard ground apples.

"Smush! Smush!" Mogey cried, running over in a panic. "What have you done? You've squashed half a dozen of our finest cider apples!"

"I'm alright, thanks," Smush said sarcastically as he lifted himself tenderly to his feet.

"Do you know what's not alright? These cider apples," Smush replied, picking one off the ground and biting it dramatically, only to spit it out in disgust. "Don't come crying to ol' Mogey when you can only have one gallon of mulled cider per night this winter, instead of your customary 1.2 gallons."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 607

Smush happened upon Mogey on the third floor of Buxelton Manor, the country house where they were visiting their uncle, Baron Bertram Buxelton I, for the summer. Mogey appeared to be attempting to fiddle the doorknob open with his foot.

"What the world is going on here?" Smush asked, putting down his tray of ring dings and zebra cakes.

"It's these darn doorknobs," said Mogey. "I can't figure out how to get them open."

"Why, they work exactly the same as the doorknobs at our house."

"But that's just the thing," Mogey muttered, his eyes darting furtively about, "I don't know how to use those doorknobs either. I just kick in the door to my bedroom every night."

"You never learned how to open a doorknob?" Smush exclaimed, bursting into merry laughter.

"Is it funny?" Mogey demanded. He grabbed Smush by his admittedly stylish lapels and shoved him against the wall. "Is it funny to be a doorknob fool? Stop laughing and help me for goodness sakes!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 606

One afternoon, Smush took a break from doing calisthenics to have a drink of water from his canteen when he noticed Mogey cutting cheese in a most unusual manner.

"I hate to be the moth at a butterfly convention," Mogey said, "but these new knives you got are a bit awkward to cut with."

"That's because they're not knives, Mogey. They're ninja stars."

"Ahhhh... but why do you have ninja stars?"

"Because I am a ninja," Smush replied. "Seriously, Mogey, I can't believe you don't even know what I do for a living."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 605

Back in Mogey and Smush's day, skiers were forced to hike to the top of any mountain they wished to ski, because the ski lifts had all broken down due to shoddy upkeep. And it was no coincidence that Mogey and Smush often made their livings as ski lift keeper-uppers.

One wintry Saturday, Mogey and Smush came back to the lodge to warm up after a long morning of greasing the ski lift machinery they were supposed to have greased weeks earlier. It was a frigid day, and the pals' chubby little hands were aching with cold.

"What can I get you boys?" asked the snack shop attendant, noticing their discomfort.

"Hot chocolate for me," Smush replied. "What about you, Mogey? Hot tea? Coffee? Broth of various kinds?"

"I'll take an ice-cold cola," Mogey replied confidently. "You see, it's a common misconception that hot drinks warm you up. A cold drink feels so cold in your tummy that your hands actually feel warm by comparison."

"Are you actually crazier than a crosseyed accountant?" Smush asked. "Or just faking it?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 604

In Mogey and Smush's time, there was no sunblock, so any wimp who didn't want to get sunburned was forced to slather some other self-devised substance onto his skin. Since Mogey and Smush were well known wimps, they had tried all manner of methods to protect their tender skin.

"I've got a new one," Smush told Mogey one morning when it had already begun to feel scorchingly hot. "Whole wheat flour."

"Ehh, I'm going to stick with the method we used last time."

"You can't be serious! We were horribly uncomfortable the entire day, and both of us ended up redder than a dweeb's face at a babe party."

"I think it deserves another shot," Mogey insisted.

"Mogey," Smush said, putting an arm around his pal, "I have to be honest with you: Covering ourselves in molasses was one of the worst ideas we've ever had."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 603

While swinging on the neighborhood swing set one afternoon, Mogey suddenly decided that it was high time he set a new distance record for swing-jumping. Smush, who was swinging nearby, saw the gleam in his pal's eye.

"I know what you're thinking right now, Mogey," Smush said, "but don't do it. Jumping off of swings can be very dangersome."

"Bah," Mogey replied. "What could happen?" 

Just then, a grizzly bear with broader shoulders than an elephant bodybuilder wandered onto the playground. Mogey tried to abort his jump, but it was too late: He sailed through the air and landed with a thud atop the bear's rump.

"I told you jumping was dangerous," Smush called.

"Get off of me!" snarled the bear, who was grumpy after a long day of digging for tubers and eating an insane amount of salmon.

"Of course, of course," Mogey replied. "But it appears you're headed toward Main Street. Would it be alright if I stayed aboard as far as the empanada shack?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 602

On a cool fall afternoon in Big Tony's Muffin Shop, Mogey and Smush got into one of the most epic disagreements in the history of their friendship. It began with a difference of opinion over whether peach muffins are superior to lemon poppyseed and evolved into a furious wrestling match within minutes.

Before Mogey and Smush had much of a chance to tussle on the muffin shop floor however, they were separated by Big Tony himself, a mountain of a man who wore sleeveless t-shirts almost exclusively.

"Oy!" Big Tony shouted, holding the combatants apart fairly easily. "Settle down! I know how passionate you boys are about muffins, but we have a way of settling disagreements in this establishment. It's called dueling banjos."

Mogey and Smush agreed to play it by house rules and waited while one of the busboys fetched a pair of banjos. After they tuned the instruments carefully, Big Tony announced, "Ready? Annnnnnd, banjo!"

Smush began carefully picking out an old folk tune about potato miners, but Mogey immediately charged forward and smashed his banjo over Smush's head, showering the muffin shop with pieces of wood and canvas.

"The new dueling banjo champion of the world!" Mogey exclaimed, strutting around the shop with his arms raised high and making fake crowd noises. "Let no man ever doubt that peach muffins are the greatest muffins in all the land!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 601

One beautiful summer day, Mogey and Smush sat in the hayfield eating sunflower seeds and reminiscing over their glory days playing ball.

"You ever hit a grand slam?" Smush asked.

"No," Mogey replied, "but I did hit a 'great slam' one time against the Chumsburg Piemakers."

"What's that?"

"A great slam?" Mogey said. "That's the one where you hit a foul ball that knocks down the hot dog man. If you get him just right, every clever fan in that section gets a free hot dog."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 600

Over the years since his male pattern baldness had become male total baldness, Mogey had tried all manner of contrivances to disguise his shiny noggin. He'd worn hooded jackets and cowboy hats, rubbed red pepper on his scalp before bedtime, and even once eaten a soft-boiled duck egg by the light of the full moon.

Nothing worked, and eventually, Mogey always came back around to the idea of wearing a wig, an idea from which Smush tirelessly discouraged him. 

"Wigs don't work in a small town," Smush would tell him.

"But why?" Mogey would ask.

"Just think about it," Smush would reply.

Mogey did think about it. Hard. But he never understood why wearing a wig would be any different in their little village than in a big city. After massaging pickle juice into his temples every night for a week without so much as a sprout of hair to show for it, Mogey had had enough. He went down to Elmer Wiggington's Hairpiece Corner and returned that very afternoon with a magnificent mane of auburn locks.

"Wigs don't work in a small town," Smush said, but this time Mogey ignored him.

That night, Mogey and Smush repaired to the Pork Barrel Classic hoedown, and who should they spot upon entering but Charlotte O'Hare, the prettiest gal in town. Mogey had been desperately in love with Charlotte for at least a dozen fortnights, but he never would've had the courage to speak to her with his old bald dome. Now, however, he went straight up to the lass, bowed, and asked respectfully for the next dance.

"Sheesh, Mogey," Charlotte O'Hare exclaimed, laughing uproariously, "that is some wig!"

"How do you know it's a wig?" Mogey asked.

"Why, I saw you yesterday. This is an awfully small town after all. I know full well that you're balder than the broad side of a barn!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 599

One gorgeous day in the height of peach season, Mogey and Smush went hunting for some peaches. Not just any peaches, mind you, but the renowned Warlike Peaches of Baradur. These peaches were said to carry spears so sharp that they could pierce steel-plated armor and soccer shin guards alike.

Mindful of their quarry's vicious nature, Mogey and Smush crept silently through the peach orchard until finally they came to the Tree of Baradur. They army crawled until they were just beneath the tree, then - without warning - Smush got straight to his feet.

"Get down, Smush!" Mogey cried. "The peaches will kill you!"

"Nonsense. What in the world are you talking about?"

"The Warlike Peaches of Baradur are said to carry spears so sharp that they can pierce steel-plated armor and soccer shin guards alike!"

"That's true," Smush replied, plucking a ripe peach off the nearest branch and biting into it. "But they're also peaches... it's not like they can throw a spear or anything."

"Oh," Mogey said. He too plucked a peach and bit into it. "Yowch!"

"You bit into a spear so sharp that it could pierce steel-plated armor and soccer shin guards alike, didn't you?"

"Yeth," Mogey replied.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 598

One afternoon, Smush was returning from the masquerade ball with his pants stuffed full of fried shrimp and his jacket stuffed full of fried shrimp when he spotted Mogey perched atop the roof of their house.

"Hey there, buddy old pal," Smush said jovially. "What are you doing? Also, would you care for some fried shrimp?"

"No shrimp for me, thanks," Mogey replied. "I'm about to invent the miracle of human flight!"

Mogey spread his arms wide to reveal that he had constructed a pair of makeshift wings from turkey feathers and saltwater taffy. He wound up a propeller mounted on his beanie hat until it strained against the rubber band holding it in place.

"Now watch in amazement," Mogey said, "as I-- say, what's all that racket?"

"Farmer Buckledeeboop's cropduster just flew overhead," Smush answered. "You were saying?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 597

"What shall we do today, Mogey?" Smush said as he plucked the very ripest junior bacon cheeseburger from the junior bacon cheeseburger tree and took a large bite.

"I was thinking I might try to climb that mountain."

"Which mountain?"

"That one there," Mogey replied, pointing straight ahead.

"Are you or are you not referring to the mountain of old tires in our neighbor's back yard?" Smush asked.

"Of course I am. It'll be a tough ascent, but I think we can make it. What do you think we need for supplies? So far on my list I have crampons, ice axes, and bacon."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 596

Mogey and Smush had planned their most epic heist to a T. Supplies had been gathered, blueprints had been analyzed, and the two pals were now tucked away in Baron Mookalverg's attic, biding their time to steal the Baron's most famous bag of candy bears from his sweets safe.

"Ok, Mogey, let's go over this one more time," Smush said. "You'll creep downstairs to the second floor drawing room, at which point I'll detonate the C4 you plastered around the Baron's sweets safe. Then you swipe the candy bears and I'll cover you with my slingshot as you sneak out through the back yard. We'll rendezvous at the water tower at 0800."

"I don't know, Smush - why don't we just ask Baron Mookalverg for the bag of candy bears?"

"Ask? Are you mad? Why would you suggest such a confounded idea?"

"I'm just not so sure this plan is going to work," Mogey replied. "For one thing, I don't even know what C4 is. Is it some kind of gun? I just plastered glow-in-the-dark play-doh around the sweets safe to help us find it if the lights go out."

"Mogey," Smush said, "you have got to be the worst heist partner in the business. This is the seventh time we've tried to steal Baron Mookalverg's prize candy bears and you've yet to contribute anything to the mission besides play-doh and these bandanas you made us wear."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 595

Mogey was hanging out with his pal Smush one day, kicking a soccer ball around inside a giant's footprint, when an idea came to him.

"Did you ever notice that soccer balls and volleyballs are basically the same thing?" he asked, kicking the ball into the imprint of the giant's pinky toe, where it lodged sturdily. "Those fellows in the sporting goods industry must be dum-dum-dimmy-dumbs."

"Or are they geniuses?" Smush replied. "Just think: By selling a 'different' ball for the two sports, they sell twice as many!"

"I stand by my statement."

"The dum-dum-dimmy dumbs thing?"

"Yes," said Mogey. "I maintain that they would sell three times as much with a unified ball, since that also opens the door to create the hybrid sport of voccerball! Imagine seeing the tallest, slenderest athletes in the world spike voccerballs with their feet... oh yes, it would be a sight to behold."

"So voccerball brings gangliness, some sort of net, and headers to the table?" Smush asked. "What about fake injuries... can you give me fake injuries?"

"That I can."

"I'm in," Smush whispered excitedly. "This voccerball is officially your best idea since cheese cookies."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 594

Mogey and Smush huddled together for warmth as they sat high in the ancient beech tree, watching their traps. They were trying to catch the Chirruping Domp, a creature so rare that only one of them had ever lived, and even that one had but a single leg.

"The key to catching a Chirruping Domp," Smush whispered knowledgeably, "is to attract it using the scent of its mate. That's why I baited my trap with a single goose feather that I rubbed with rose petals every night for a month."

"But the Chirruping Domp hasn't got a mate," Mogey said. "Only one of them has ever lived."

"True, but it doesn't know that. And a goose feather is the closest thing there is to a Chirruping Domp feather."

Despite his confidence, the pals watched Smush's trap for hours without success. Just as they were about to give up, they heard a loud springing sound and the unmistakeable squawk of a trapped Chirruping Domp coming, not from Smush's trap, but from the trap Mogey had established.

"You've done it!" Smush exclaimed. "You've trapped the Chirruping Domp, Mogey! What in the world did you use for bait?"

"A churro dipped in peanut butter," Mogey replied. "But good luck with that feather thing."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 593

"Smush, Smush! I've got to ask you something!" Mogey hollered, running into the barn at such a clip that he scared Giacomo, Smush's favorite llama, into a sneezing fit. And for those who have never seen a llama sneeze, just know that it is not a pretty picture.

"Yes, Mogey? What is it?" said Smush, who was milking the cows. Mogey took so long catching his breath that Smush milked four additional cows while his pal was bent over, wheezing.

"Some gents at the factory told me that I was smoking my pipe all wrong!" Mogey said finally. "They said I didn't put the right stuff in there - what do you pack into the bowl of your pipe?"

"Pipe tobacco."

"Ugh - that's what they were smoking too! How do you do it, Smushster? That tobacco is disgusting."

"Well, what do you smoke out of your pipe?"

"I don't smoke anything!" Mogey exclaimed. "I just cram a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie into it and inhale the scent."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 592

"30 seconds more," said the official, glancing down at his watch.

"Come on, Mogey, old buddy, you can do it!" Smush whispered. He and the world records official stood over Mogey's bed, watching his pal snooze peacefully.

"20 seconds...."

Smush gritted his teeth and willed his friend to stay asleep.

"10 seconds..." the official counted. "Annnnnnd, time!"

Smush waited a few more moments, just in case, then shook Mogey awake, grabbing him up in a violent bear hug.

"You did it, Mogey! I knew you could!"

"Wha--?" Mogey asked groggily.

"You just set the world record for longest time asleep!" Smush exclaimed. "It'll be in all the papers tomorrow."

"That's interesting," Mogey replied, yawning mightily. "I suppose that's enough for today, isn't it?"

"I suppose..." Smush said.

"Good," Mogey answered. "Because I could sure use a nap."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 591

After Mogey and Smush were caught, tried, and convicted for grand hot dog larceny, they were forced to join a work crew as part of the stern sentence handed out by the Honorable Francis Ball-Park (an heir to a hot dog fortune, though he claimed it did not affect his ruling). The work crew set to digging ditches behind the mayor's house that would carry the mayor's spittoon juice far away from the city center.

After nary an hour of shoveling, Mogey's hands were raw and sore. He could barely hold his shovel any longer, leg alone dig it into the the earth, but the overseer was relentless, cracking a whip and shouting obscenities in Mogey's general direction.

"I don't think I can go on!" Mogey whispered to his pal. "My hands feel like balls of fire with fat little fingers sticking out of them."

"Your hands just need to toughen up," Smush replied. "You've never shoveled a day in your life. You need calluses, like me!"

"But how did you get those? You've never shoveled a day in your life either."

"They're detachable. I got Uncle Ernesto to smuggle me a set of stick-on calluses."

"Oy! Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-stupid!" the overseer shouted with another crack of his whip. "Get a move on! These spittoon juice ditches aren't going to dig themselves."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 590

Smush was reading the funny pages of the So Totally Super Serious Financial Economic Times one morning when Mogey appeared, wearing a leather vest, a red cape, and scuba diving goggles.

"Today is the day," Mogey announced.

"Yes?"

"Today is the day I ride Mister Lumpernoodle's waterwheel... all the way around."

"All the way?" Smush gasped. "But that's impossible! The physics alone...."

"I can do it," Mogey promised. "But I need your help."

Half an hour later Mogey and Smush were hanging out sketchily near Mister Lumpernoodle's grist mill. When it seemed that no one was watching, Mogey ran to the waterwheel and hopped into one of the buckets while Smush hurried over to the sluice gate.

"Now!" Mogey shouted, donning his goggles and looking supremely dorky. Smush opened the sluice full tilt, sending a sizable wave rushing toward the waterwheel. The wheel spun at tremendous speed, carrying Mogey up and around then dunking him down into the stream and finally flinging him high into the air.

"What are you boys doing out here?" Mister Lumpernoodle hollered as Mogey landed with a thud not five feet in front of him. Mister Lumpernoodle cocked his shotgun. "You got that darn wheel moving so fast that it ground all my corn into a powder so fine that it'll only be fit for sprinkling under my arms. I'll smell like corn from now til eternity! Corney, they'll call me, Corney the Corn-pone Corndog."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 589

"Mogey, I think it's time we got a new clock," Smush said one morning as the two pals sat in the shadows of their behemoth old grandfather clock.

"Why would we do that?" Mogey asked.

"For starters, because this clock only goes to 11. But also because it hasn't ticked a tock in years."

"I don't see the problem."

"Don't you ever get sick of being late to things all the time?" Smush said.

"Not at all," Mogey replied, "and if we get rid of this clock I'll lose the perfect excuse. Everyone will be all 'why are you three hours late to the funeral?' and instead of saying I have a wonderful old clock at home that I can't bring myself to replace, I'll have to just admit I'm lazy. No one will save me a plate of potato salad if I say that! And there is nothing tastier than funeral potato salad. Nothing."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 588

Mogey and Smush were journeying along the rocky coastline of Brabashadur when they came upon a building the likes of which they'd never seen before.

"Say, Smush," Mogey began, "what do you suppose they built that for? It's too tall and skinny to be much of a house, but there's no cropland around here, so it can't be a silo either."

"Not to mention the fact that it's windowless all the way up until those enormous windows at the top. Someone's shining a light up there so bright that you must be able to see it for miles. I haven't the foggiest idea what it could be."

"Let's ask this marmoset," Mogey suggested, gesturing to a passerby. "They're usually the knowledgeable sort. Excuse me, goodly marmoset? What is the purpose of yonder building?"

"I'm actually just a very hairy man," the passerby replied. "And that there's what we call a lighthouse."

"Pardon me, marmoset," Smush interrupted angrily, "but I believe my friend asked you what the purpose of that house is, not how much it weighs."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 587

One sunny afternoon, Mogey and Smush strode out to the watermelon patch, only to find a chubby puppy staring wonderingly at their watermelons.

"Ahoy there," Smush said. "Can we help you with something?"

"Gee whiz, mister," the puppy said. "But that watermelon there, the second one on the left, is the biggest, bestest watermelon I ever laid eyes on."

"The biggest and bestest ever?" Mogey asked, his voice all atremble. "But where do you come from?"

"Cat Tuft Bluff," the puppy replied.

"Cat Tuft Bluff?" Mogey exclaimed. "Cat Tuft Bluff? They have the greatest watermelons in the world in Cat Tuft Bluff! Smush, do you realize what this means? We're a shoe in to win the watermelon contest at the County Fair this year."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," the puppy interjected.

"Why is that?" Smush asked.

"I'm a puppy. My eyes only opened, like, forty-five minutes ago and I came straight here. Supposedly you guys have some really slow, really delicious chickens hanging around somewhere?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 586

"Smush, I have a question," Mogey said as the two pals brought the eleventh - and final - slop bucket of the day out to their famously obese hogs.

"Oh Nelly," Smush replied with a sigh.

"I've always wondered: Why do we have that windmill on top of the barn? It looks nice and all, but does it serve any real purpose?"

"Silly Mogey," Smush said, "where do you think all our flour comes from?"

"I always thought it came from wheat," Mogey answered.

"It's made from wheat, but the windmill grinds the wheat up into flour with those two enormous stoney looking things in the barn."

"Well, that answers my next question as well."

"You were going to ask what the stones were for?" Smush queried.

"No, I was going to ask whether you always had to sound like a know-it-all, or just some of the time."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 585

"Why is it," Mogey asked on a crisp fall day when he and Smush were picking nectarines, "that librarians always seem to wear glasses?"

"Haven't you seen how tiny the print is in those books they read?" Smush replied. Mogey thought about this carefully.

"Nope," he said finally.

"Good point," Smush rejoined. "Neither have I."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 584

Mogey and Smush huddled together inside their reinforced oaken barrel as it floated inexorably toward Hugeness Falls. No one had ever successfully made it over Hugeness Falls in a barrel, but then, no one had ever attempted to go over Hugeness Falls in a barrel.

"Say Mogey," Smush said. "Quick question: Why are we doing this?"

"You mean why are we about to go over an impossibly high waterfall in a barrel?" Mogey asked.

"Indeed."

"Isn't it obvious?" Mogey said. "There's a cafe at the bottom of Hugeness Falls that makes the best root beer floats. I figured this would be the quickest way down there."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 583

"When's the last time you scraped the frost off the chicken coop?" Smush asked Mogey one cold morning.

"Can't say I've done that since Thursday last," Mogey replied absentmindedly.

"What?" Smush exclaimed. "But you know full well that if the frost gets too thick, that chicken coop turns into a mighty frost monster with chickens for a heart and chickens for a liver."

"Darn it!" Mogey said. "I knew I'd been forgetting something."

The two pals threw on their overcoats and rushed out to the chicken coop, where they breathed a momentary sigh of relief. There was a hefty layer of frost on the windward side, but it didn't appear that a frost monster had formed yet. At that moment however, an enormous snowy head with a bulbous nose and gloomy eyes rose from the coop.

"Hullo," the frost monster said slowly, "I wuz just wundering if yew might gave me a sput of chiken feed?"

"AGGGHHHH! Frost monster!" Mogey shouted as the two pals turned tail and ran for the hills.

"Oh," the frost monster rejoined sadly, "I guess naught."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 582

A wily old fox named Frankie O'Xylophone broke into Mogey and Smush's hen house more than a dozen times before they finally caught him. Mogey and Smush knew they would have to use any means necessary to find out how Frankie had been sneaking in if they were to keep their eggs safe in the future.

"Alright, O'Xylophone," Smush said. "Spill the beans. How do you do it? A loose floorboard?"

"No," Frankie replied. He was manacled to a spinny chair beneath a hot white light. "I usually just walk in through the front door."

"Nonsense!" Smush cried. "Only an imbecile would believe such a story. Is it the roof you come through?"

"Seriously, I just waltz right in through the front door," Frankie repeated, swishing his bright red tail. "It's not like you have it guarded or anything."

"I can see we'll need to resort to more desperate measures. Mogey, fetch my whips!"

"Yes, sir," Mogey responded. He began to scurry away but then abruptly changed directions and scurried back. "Just to be clear, you want your licorice whips, correct?"

"Of course," Smush said. "And be sure to bring the black ones. We're going for the kind of heavy-duty torture red licorice just can't provide."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 581

"Leopold!" Smush announced suddenly one afternoon as he and Mogey were sippin' on some eggnog.

"Leopold?" Mogey asked.

"Leopold," Smush confirmed.

"L-L-Leopold," Mogey muttered, as if the name felt funny in his mouth.

"Leopooooooooooooooooold," Smush sang.

For several moments there was silence except for the omnipresent rumbling of their respective tumblies.

"Are you quite sure?" Mogey asked finally.

"Of course I'm sure," Smush replied. "The troll who lives beneath Blubberburp Bridge is named Leopold. Either that or Carlos - you know I get all those Russian names confused."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 580

"Mogey," Smush said as he squeezed the last drops of pig milk from the udder of his prize milking pig, Wolfgang, "it's high time we had a vacation. What say we take a journey over the Fangtooth Mountains to Loskiland?"

"Meh," Mogey replied, "I'm not a big fan of Loskiland. The laws are just too strict in that country."

"How so?" Smush inquired as he gave Wolfgang a pat on the head and sent her on her way.

"Did you know you can't even steal in Loskiland?"

"Mogey, you can't steal here either."

"Well not from your loved ones, no, but in Loskiland you can't even steal from complete strangers," Mogey said. "I mean, the nerve of those Loskilanders. Honestly."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 579

"I think it's finally time," Mogey said one day, "for me to get a haircut."

"Thank heavens," Smush replied, breathing a sigh of relief. "Waist-length dreadlocks really do not suit you."

"What style do you think I should go with?"

"Well, a mullet has always done you proud in the past...."

"True, a mullet is a good fit with my personality," Mogey acknowledged, "but I want something more professional this time around. I'm debating between a mohawk and a head-manchu. That's like a fu-manchu on top of--"

"I know what a head-manchu is," Smush muttered before chugging three quarters of a glass of buttermilk. "Do I look like a child to you?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 578

Mogey and Smush had been farmsitting Farmer Bananagram's expansive lands and barns for over a week. Smush had been hesitant about the responsibilities at first, but Mogey had insisted and eventually won him over. "It'll be the easiest $300 we ever made," he had said. "It's the dog days of summer: There's scarcely anything to be done on a farm this time of year."

Finally the last day of their duty rolled around, and the pals woke up late.

"Maybe we should do a bit of work today, just for show" Mogey said as he stumbled blearily upon Smush in Farmer Bananagram's well stocked pantry. "I did tell the farmer we would harvest 1,000 acres of stinkbarley before he came back, but that shouldn't take long."

"What?" Smush demanded, nearly dropping a jar of stewed tomatoes.

"Oh, wait a moment," Mogey said, pulling a crumpled sheet of paper from his overalls pocket, "that's not right."

"Phew, you gave me quite a scare there. Farmer Bananagram is known to be pretty liberal with his riding crop when his temper is up."

"Yes, it's hectares, not acres," Mogey replied. "1,000 hectares of stinkbarley. We could do that by, when? 2:30 this afternoon? A hectare is about half a stalk of barley, right?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 577

"Okie-dokie," Mogey announced, lugging a heavy carpet bag down the stairs with a bump-bump-bump. "I'm all packed and ready to go! When do we leave?"

"Leave?" Smush asked. "For where?"

"The Isle of Paradise, where the ladies all know your name and the lily pads are made of pancakes."

"I'm not going to the Isle of Paradise," Smush replied. "Are you going to the Isle of Paradise?"

"I thought you said you knew a guy who had two free tickets to the Isle of Paradise aboard the steamship Zanzibarian Fool," Mogey said, trying not to sound too crestfallen.

"Nope, I never said that."

"Oh. It was just a classic Mogey and Smush miscommunication, I guess," said Mogey. And he sadly dragged his carpet bag upstairs to unpack a half gallon of sunblock, a plastic sandcastle mold, a pair of scratch-and-sniff books, and three pounds of knockwurst.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 576

One day, Mogey and Smush decided to settle it once and for all: Which one of them could hold his breath the longest? The debate over which of them had the more legendary lung capacity had been so hotly contested over the years that it had resulted in two eye gougings, seven permanently scarring Indian sunburns, and, memorably, a night spent in jail on charges of inciting a one-man riot.

The referee for the epic breath-holding contest was Mogey's and Smush's mutual friend Tortoise Richard, and he started it in the usual way (by slapping his tail against the back of his shell). What followed were thirty of the quietest seconds of Mogey's and Smush's lifetimes.

"Hold it!" Mogey burst out suddenly, less than a minute in. "He's cheating, ref! He's not holding his breath at all, he's just puffing his cheeks out!"

"That's a lie!" Smush retorted. "And anyway, you've been cheating too. I've seen you sneak at least three sips of slurpee over the course of this contest."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"It's a physical impossibility to hold you breath and drink a slurpee at the same time. Even the most childish child knows that."

"We'll have to get a judges ruling on this," Mogey said. "Tortoise Richard? Hey, where'd he go?"

But Tortoise Richard couldn't hear Mogey, for he had discovered a pail of cabbages outside a nearby Burger King that required his immediate attention.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 575

"Smush! Smush!" Mogey exclaimed, charging into his pal's study in a state that can only be described as a kerfuffle. "I think I've got it: The next great invention for all mankind!"

"Go on," Smush replied, spinning his chair around in a slightly evil manner.

"I call it it 'the roly-poly,'" Mogey said. "It's a circular device that you could attach to a heavy object, allowing you to move the object with only a tiny fraction of the force it would take to drag it."

"That sounds like a wheel."

"A what now?"

"A wheel," Smush repeated. "We've got four of them on our wagon."

"Don't tell me someone beat me to the punch!" Mogey cried. "It was that Willard Otterbottom, wasn't it?"

"What are you talking about, Mogey? Wheels have existed for thousands of years."

"Curse you, Otterbottom," Mogey muttered. "Always looking at my notebooks. One of these days I'll see that you receive the harshest punishment the patent office has to offer. Yes, it shall be mandatory ostracism from your inventor peer group for you!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 574

"Do you think anything at Patty's will require a sharp knife to eat?" Mogey asked Smush as the two pals scrambled about the house, getting ready for their favorite dinner of the year: 2-for-1 Night at Patty's Pantry & All-You-Can-Eat Buffet.

"I don't think so," Smush replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I want to make sure I bring the right tools for the job, don't I?"

"Hold on," Smush persisted. "You're bringing your own utensils to Patty's Pantry now? Why?"

"Well the utensils they give you are just so small," Mogey said, hefting an enormous fork and spoon intended for serving salads. "The only way to get your money's worth is to bring a real man's silverware. You don't think I'll need a spork as well, do you?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 573

"Aaaaghhhh!" Mogey screamed as he scrambled up the cellar stairs.

"What is it this time?" Smush said, lowering his spectacles in the most dastardly manner possible.

"There's a monstrous monster in the basement! He's out to butter our ears and eat us with rye toast!"

"Calm down, lad, calm down. We'll go down to the cellar together and I'll show you there's no monster."

Mogey and Smush descended the creaky stairs together (Mogey much more tentatively than Smush). They rounded the stacks of salt pork barrels and walked past the rows of pickled goods of all kinds.

"There!" Mogey whispered sharply, pointing at the opposite wall. "See him?"

"My goodness, Mogey, you might actually be right this time!" Smush replied. The figure - a shadow in the candlelight - took up most of the wall. It was a four-legged beast whose cruel snout seemed to be sniffing the air to pick up their scents. A razor-sharp horn atop its head looked powerful enough to gore a full-grown blue whale. Mogey and Smush clutched each other in mortal terror.

Just as they were about to scream like little girls and run for cover, Mogey and Smush's prize pig Buttercup trotted out from the shadows, a party hat from her birthday celebration the night before still strapped to her head.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 572

One evening, Mogey and Smush were returning home from La Fiesta di Hombre Murcielago when they encountered a bear standing in the middle of the road.

"Who goes there?" said the bear. "Give me all the honey you've got."

"Whoa!" Mogey exclaimed. "A talking bear!"

"Yes, yes," the bear replied, "it's very unusual, I know. Just give me the honey, will you?"

"Can you do any accents?" Smush asked.

"For goodness sakes!" the bear cried. "If I do an accent will you please, please give me your honey?"

"Sure," Smush replied. The bear then delivered the soliloquy from Hamlet in a perfect Austrian accent, complete with menacing scowl.

"Now where's my honey?" he demanded.

"We haven't got any," Mogey answered. "But I do have some leftover Thai lettuce wraps around here somewhere if you'd like those."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 571

"What are you wearing for pajamas these days, Smush?" Mogey asked one day while he was eating teddy grahams, a food that always put him in a philosophical mood.

"During these winter months I usually wear my flannel nightshirt," Smush replied. "And on particularly cold nights I sometimes throw on one of the sheepskin adult diapers Crazy Aunt Nellie gave us last Christmas. What about you?"

"I'm sort of in transition. I used to always wear matching pajamas, but I've been experimenting with a new invention I call 'Mogeywear.' It's like a connected pajama bottom and top with no waistband, so you're freedom of movement is incredible!"

"That's already been invented, Mogey," Smush interjected. "They're called footy pajamas."

"Oh there are no feet on Mogeywear," Mogey replied with just a teensy bit of contempt in his voice. "I keep my feet bare when I go to bed, just in case I have to roundhouse kick an intruder without giving him a black eye."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 570

On the evening of The Great Debate, Mogey and Smush led the St. Zonko School for Wild Boys debate team into the ancient arguing grounds. The pals had spent the last fortnight designing uniforms for the St. Zonko team: They'd sewn spangles and stitched patches, they'd knitted socks and crocheted scarves, they'd darned seams and tatted fancy collars.

Now that it was showtime, Mogey and Smush strode into the arguing grounds with a confidence they'd never felt before, and they could see in their opponents' eyes that the uniforms were intimidating. Finally it came time for St. Zonko's first debate of the tournament. The opposing team launched unsteadily into their opening statement, clearly rattled by the flash and pizzazz of Mogey and Smush's new uniforms.

Then the moderator turned to the St. Zonko's team. For a few moments the silence was broken only by throat clearing and a small rogue belch, as Mogey and Smush waited for someone on their team to say something.

"Smush," Mogey whispered, "I'm beginning to think maybe we should have spent a little less time on our uniforms and a little more time practicing our debating skills."

"Nah," Smush replied quietly, "you can't underestimate the value of a first impression. And right now St. Zonko's is stylin'."