Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 633

Smush was partial to a good rocking chair. Mogey was more of a barcalounger fan himself, but because he was a good friend - and because he hadn't been out of the house in nearly a fortnight - he accompanied Smush down to Rockin' Robin's Chair/House Warehouse.

With very little help from the shop owner, Robin, a sneaky little man who looked more like a leprechaun than at least three leprechauns Mogey and Smush knew personally, the pals finally made it to the rocking chair section.

Smush apprehensively lowered his peach cobbler-enhanced bulk into the first chair, which creaked ominously, though apparently not ominously enough for Smush.

"I like it," he said, rocking thoughtfully back and forth, "but it's just not quite spindly enough for me. I like a rocking chair with elegant, slender woodwork."

They moved on to another chair whose rockers were so slim that they looked as if they would have difficulty holding up an ultramarathoning baby in a helium diaper. Smush sat down with an even louder creak, but once again shook his head.

"Still not spindly enough?" Mogey asked.

"Not quite," said Smush.

Finally they found the least sturdy-looking rocker in the entire chair/house warehouse, a high backed number that may have been made from chickadee bones and balsa wood. Smush sat gingerly, producing the loudest, longest creak they had heard all day. But the chair held. A grin spread across Smush's face.

Suddenly an overhead trap door opened, pouring a dozen jumbo-sized watermelons onto Smush's head and lap and sending him sprawling as the chair splintered into literally billions of pieces.

"Ha-ha!" shouted Robin, the diminutive store owner. "Another classic misdirection from Rockin' Robin!" He danced away merrily, clicking his heels and stealing hats from several small children.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 632

"Have you ever wondered," Mogey murmured as he swept the remnants of his dinner plate into a paper bag beneath the sink (all that remained were two limp string beans that hadn't gotten a proper dose of butter), "what happens to all of our trash?"

"No," Smush replied. "I know exactly what happens to it."

"I've always imaged that there's some sort of fairy... no, more of an ogre - a trash ogre - who comes to pick it up--"

"It just goes into a big pile next to Barnaby Johannson's latrine - you'd know that too if you ever took the trash out."

"--the ogre loves trash far more than new items, you see, and he builds things out of it," Mogey continued dreamily. "Breadcrust boats and yogurt cup castles and wax paper kites. Can't you just see it now? An ogre flying a kite made of crumpled old wax paper?"

"I've got to hand it to you, Mogey, you're always full of ideas," Smush said. "But I once owned a parrot who was full of ideas too...."


"Remember that time we had parrot turnovers garnished with parrot beak?"

"Oh my, yes," Mogey said. "Those were delicious! Savory and sweet all at once."