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'."