Friday, May 31, 2013

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 635

One fine summer evening, Mogey and Smush were walking through the county fairgrounds. Mainly, they were trying to execute a long con that would result in a lifetime supply of funnel cakes for each of them, but in the meantime they were taking in the sights.

"Step right up, heya! Step right up and find out what breed of dog you'd be," shouted the hawker of a carnival game. He wore a top hat and, bizarrely, a pair of women's silk pajama pants. That was all. "Step right up, I say!" he continued, pointing right at Mogey. "You, suh! I'll tell ya what dog most closely resembles your personality, see? Only two bits!"

Mogey never could turn down a hawker who pointed directly at him, so step up he did. The carnie sat him down on a battered wooden stool and looked deeply into his eyes.

"Easy one," he said. "Dachshund."

"A wiener dog?" Mogey exclaimed. "How dare you?"

"Yes indeed - of all the dogs in the animal kingdom, wiener dogs are the most gullible, see? Plus there's the obvious physical resemblance. That'll be two bits!"

"Ooh! I'm next!" shouted Smush. "Do mine!" When he'd collected his two bits from a reluctant Mogey, the carnie sat Smush down on the stool. He looked at Smush for a long time, and his expression grew more and more dismayed.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally. "But your dog equivalent is too grim. I just... can't. No charge."

"What in the world?" Smush replied. "What could possibly be that bad?" But the carnie simply stood and packed up his stall without another word.

"Don't worry about it, Smush," Mogey said, slapping his pal on the back. "I'm sure you were just a demonically possessed scotty dog who's going to bring about the Rapture or something. Now come on, we're well behind schedule on this funnel cake heist."

Friday, May 10, 2013

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 634

Mogey and Smush had just returned home from a long day of teaching middle school gym. Mogey flopped onto the couch, raising a cloud of middle school locker room scent, while Smush peered into the icebox in search of a snack.

"You want a yogurt, Mogey?" he asked. "That's what I'm having."

"Is it fruit-on-the-bottom?"

"Yes."

"Ick!" Mogey exclaimed.

"I think I might have a few with the fruit mixed in somewhere..." Smush said, rummaging around some more.

"Bleghh!" Mogey replied, looking even more disgusted.

"Well what are you after then? Fruit on the top?"

"Smush, let me make one thing perfectly clear: If you suggest one more yogurt topping that doesn't start with an 'h' and rhyme with 'got pudge,' I'm going to be sicker than an old racist dolphin watching his granddaughter kiss a sea lion."