The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 38

 When Smush emerged from the barn, he held the ball aloft like a sapphire prized from the crown of an empress who owned several Mazda dealerships.

"Is that--?" Mogey exclaimed.

"I'll stop you right there, Moge-man," Smush interrupted. "I know this looks like it was stolen from the display case at Empress-Mazda-of-Porkborough, but I assure you it's home-grown."

"You mean... your formula?"

"Has finally been perfected," Smush nodded. "Come, let us try it out on the badminton court." 

For some reason lost to the annals of history, Mogey and Smush preferred to play badminton on a court made of reinforced concrete. Because of this, the skin of their knees had also been lost to the annals of history, but they also possessed the perfect place to test the world's bounciest ball.

When they reached the court, Smush took one more look at his creation, wound up, and let her rip.

"It's beautiful," Mogey murmured tearfully as the ball sailed upward, becoming a miniscule purple dot against the white of the clouds.

Unfortunately, Smush had neglected to test the ball's ability to withstand a second bounce. In what became known, among local squirrels, as The Day of the Ball, Smush's invention exploded into literally 10,000 pieces on impact, pelting the surrounding fields and trees. The final damage: 956 cracked acorns, 44 bruised tails, 11 sore mouths from accidentally stuffing bouncy ball pieces into cheeks.

"Back to the drawing board," Smush muttered.

"Thank goodness this reinforced concrete was here to break our fall," Mogey added. "Uh oh, Smush, we better skedaddle."

He pointed to the driveway, where a caravan of Mazdas with shattered headlights were pulling in, furiously windshield-wipering bits of bouncy ball. And in the lead? The Empress herself, holding a poison-tipped spear in one hand and a highly-trained skunk in the other.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 37

 The final day of the Mr. Big-and-Tall Weemsburgh pageant had arrived, and Smush was a heavy (pun very much intended and in fact required by law) favorite. 

"All you've got to do is crush the interview segment and you're home free!" Mogey exclaimed, rubbing his pal's shoulders like a boxing coach as they strode toward the stage. 

"What if they ask me a question I know nothing about?" Smush asked nervously.

"Just say 'bacon.'" 

"Bacon?"

"Bacon," Mogey confirmed. "Bacon is the answer to everything in Mr. Big-and-Tall Weemsburgh interviews."

Smush took a deep breath and walked out into the bright lights and rarefied air of the Mr. Big-and-Tall Weemsburgh stage with the confidence of a hen who just laid a triple-yolker.

"Mr. Smush," said the head judge, ponderously, "if you could dine with one previous winner of this illustrious competition, across any era, who would it be?" 

Smush hesitated, but then his eyes met with Mogey's out in the crowd.

"Bacon," Smush answered. 

The judges conferred for a moment before the head judge followed up. "An intriguing answer," he said. "Do you mean Bacon Rutherford, the '47 champion, or Billy 'Bacon' Bowkon who won in '63?"

"Bacon," Smush repeated.

"Ah!" the judges gasped. Once again, the head judge spoke for them all. "Bacon Bacon, the enigmatic bipedal pig who left his farmyard life behind for a chance at Mr. Big-and-Tall glory, and became the competition's only swine champion in the process. What an answer!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 36

 "I'm ready!" Mogey announced, waltzing through the shop door and removing his sunglasses so swiftly that they flew out of his hand and shattered against the face of a steely-cheeked salesman. But not even the loss of his spectacles could dampen Mogey's spirit. "I've got cash to burn, I'm looking fine as heck, and my toesies need a new pair of duds."

"What'll it be, sir?" asked Jolly B'gong, the shoe store's proprietor.

"Wingtips," Mogey replied. "I've finally saved up enough for my first pair of wingtips."

Jolly B'gong carefully measured Mogey's feet (wearing an industrial clothespin on his nose, for safety) and selected a pair of brown leather shoes that fit better than a pudding raincoat. 

"What do you think?" asked B'gong.

"Perfect," Mogey replied. "Just one question: How do you deploy the wings?"

Several hours later, Mogey strode dejectedly into the house. Smush looked up from the anthology of prune whip recipes he was reading.

"Let me guess," he said, "the wing tips didn't turn out to have wings?"

"Worse," Mogey answered. "They were chicken wings."

"So you couldn't fly?"

"I couldn't fly. And I ate them."

"You... what?" Smush asked.

"They were delicious," said Mogey.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 35

 There was a time when Mogey and Smush used to earn some extra dough by standing in police lineups. The pals loved it because they felt like they were doing their part to take a bite out of crime. The police loved it because the actual perpetrators would often give themselves up to the witness just to get away from the incessant and ominous tummy rumbling and lip smacking in the lineup. Also, they could pay Mogey and Smush in actual dough: The pals accepted both sour- and pizza- varieties and preferred it to cash.

The reason Mogey and Smush ceased participating in police line-ups was an incident that occurred one drizzly day. The witness, a bespectacled housekeeper with a tattoo of Hagar the Horrible below her left ear, passed by the first several members of the lineup quickly: A local ghoul who needed some extra cash, the station's parking attendant, who'd wandered into the lineup room accidentally, and a pool shark known as Teddy Chlorine. Finally she stopped in front of Smush.

"Him," the witness said, her pointed finger trembling.

"This is the man who stole your antique earthenware?" the officer inquired.

"No," said the witness, "he did something far worse than that. I've been searching for him more than a decade. He destroyed a collection far more valuable than some clay pots - he damaged my vintage pez dispensers!"

"Come now," said Smush, "so I ate some fruity candy. Did I really damage your pez dispensers?"

"Many of the poor dispensers had bites taken out of them! You bit the head off of my most valuable piece - the pink flamingo!"

"In my defense, I was on such a roll that I mistook the flamingo for a pink pez," Smush explained. "Surely you can't fault a very, very hungry someone from seeing some delicious pez in the window, sneaking in the backdoor, consuming said pez, and then accidentally eating up part of the dispenser along with it, can you?"

"You have the right to remain silent," the police officer began, advancing on Smush with a pair of handcuffs. 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 34

 In the city of Hammingham there stood a popular establishment known as Mom! I'm Board: Games 'n' More. And it was said that to be the best at Mom! I'm Board you had to beat the best at Mom! I'm Board. In the sport of checkers, that honor went unequivocally to Dastardly Philip, a blond goblin who had pioneered both the quadruple jump and wraparound sunglasses.

Mogey and Smush stepped out of the coach they'd hired to bring them to Mom! I'm Board, partially because the muddy streets of Hammingham made walking across the city nearly impossible, and partially because they wanted privacy for their pregame meal of quesalupas and cheesy bites pizza. 

Tonight was the night. Tonight they would take on Dastardly Philip once and for all. They'd worn checkered shirts. They'd even spent the last month assembling checkered pasts by committing small crimes and consorting with several nefarious characters in the meat and dairy black market. The pals strode into the games parlour and sat down opposite Dastardly Philip. 

"Hello, Phil," Smush said confidently. 

"Smush," Dastardly Philip acknowledged with a nod. He tucked a lank blond coif behind his ear. "Mogey. Let's checker." 

Mogey and Smush each placed a finger upon one of the red pieces. Together they pushed it forward one square, and in unison intoned, "king me."

Dastardly Philip let out a squeal like a guidance counselor who just saw hunky TV weatherman Beau Vapor in the frozen foods aisle. He cracked his knuckles and turned to one of his cronies, a bubble hockey specialist named Lance.

"Get the press release ready," Dastardly Philip announced. "I think tonight is the night I finally execute a quintuple jump."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 33

"Extra! Extra! Read all - I doubt it!" Mogey shouted, bursting forth from his office/steam room with a wad of papers balled in his moist fists.

"Don't you mean, 'about it?'" Smush inquired.

"What?"

"You said 'read all - I doubt it.' Don't you mean 'read all about it' instead?"

"I don't make the old-timey newspaperman rules, my friend," Mogey replied. "I just abide by them."

"Arguing about this one is not how I'll be spending my Tuesday," Smush conceded. "How did the first edition of the Chubbo Evening Gazette turn out?"

"Read for yourself," said Mogey, thrusting the sweaty broadsheet into his pal's arms. Mogey had been working nonstop on the launch of the paper, scarcely even leaving his office for six-to-seven meals per day and limiting himself to a mere 90 minutes of America's Funniest Home Videos each night. 

Smush took an appraising look at the publication. He flipped through each page, scanning the content closely to get a true feel for what his friend had accomplished. At last he reached the final page and looked up.

"About 90 percent of the paper seems to be made up of coupons for a place called Stanley's Toilet Hut - what's that all about?" 

"I'm glad you picked up on that!" Mogey replied, blushing at the compliment. "You might think it's a business that sells toilets, right? Wrong! That's Stan's - he said I could call him Stan - that's Stan's genius: It's actually just a hut with a single toilet in it!"

"And people pay to use it?"

"Not if you have one of those coupons from the Chubbo Evening Gazette, you don't!"

 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 32

 "How's the rocket doing?" Mogey asked.

"Excellent," Smush replied, twirling the moustache he'd either grown or glued to his face (no one is quite sure which) especially for this endeavor. "It's warming up on the launch pad. Say, you need to get your spacesuit on - we launch in half an hour."

"My space suit is on," said Mogey. He gestured grandly to the baggy leisure suit that ensconced his butternut squash-esque physique. "It's got plenty of space to fill up on extraterrestrial snacks."

Smush looked at his pal like an elderly professor staring at a child bodybuilder who mistakenly listed him as his emergency contact. "You need to wear your real space suit!" he insisted. "There's literally no oxygen up there!"

Mogey would not be deterred. "I believe I heard some talk of green cheese...?" he inquired, displaying once again the additional volume his leisure suit afforded. "These crackers aren't going to eat themselves, and I'm darn sure not eating them without some moon fondue."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 31

 Smush tapped his foot impatiently. Mogey was going to make them late again, and if there was one thing you didn't want to be late for, it was Mole-Rat McGinley's Barbed Wire Cage-o-Spikes Match Extravaganza. Rumor had it that Mole-Rat would seize latecomers from the audience and haul them into the ring to showcase his finishing move, the "Oh Heck Gnaw."

Smush could wait no longer: He burst through Mogey's door to find his pal huddled beneath the blankets, wearing an old-timey head bandage with a comically-large thermometer sticking out of his mouth.

"How many times must I tell you, Mogey? The thermometer doesn't make you feel any better!"

"Well it can't make me feel any worse," Mogey groaned. "I'm dying, I tell you. It's fox pox for sure."

"Let me guess," Smush inquired. "Dry tongue?"

"Yes," Mogey replied fearfully.

"Stomach ache?"

"The worst."

"Sore roof of your mouth?"

"It is!" Mogey exclaimed. "Oh no... I really do have fox pox, don't I?"

"Nope," Smush replied. "Those are the symptoms of mixing flamin' hot cheetos and vilepucker sour balls right before bed, and I believe I see an empty bag of each poking out from your covers?"

"No..." said Mogey, rolling over with a loud plasticky crackle.

"You're fine," Smush insisted. "Now come on: Let's go watch Mole-Rate McGinley suplex Fudgy Joe into oblivion. I heard this time they're going to be rasslin' on a dilapidated ladder that's perched on a table loaded with prickly succulents, which is in turn balanced above a rattlesnake-infested blackberry thicket."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 30

 Mogey peered over his Reader's Digest and extra large bowl of cracklin' oat bran to check the clock. It was almost time. His muscles tensed for action.

"Today's the day, Mogey!" Smush announced as he barrelled down the stairs. Mogey leapt aside: Getting in Smush's way this morning would be tantamount to standing between a buffalo-sized goose and a big ol' helping of goose food. "They're in," Smush continued. "The fresh twix bars arrived this morning!"

"What is it with you and 'fresh' twix?" Mogey inquired.

"I wish I had time to explain it to you, my friend, but once you've tasted a vine-ripened twix that came off the boat that very morning, you realize those supermarket twix are literal garbage. I'm off to Chester Chester's before all that's left are bruised ones." 

"Be careful," Mogey urged his pal as Smush headed out the door. "It rained awful hard last night and there are puddles out there deeper than that poem you wrote for Miss Mary Molly MageeMcMuffin last Mardi Gras."

"Your fragrance enchants me: ambrosia divine / (the whipped cream dessert, not the mythical kind)," said Smush, quoting his own excellent work. "I thank you and I shall use caution."  

Smush did not use caution. In fact, he fell into three different puddles and some kind of mud slip 'n slide in his haste to reach Chester Chester's Confectionaratorium. But as he intoned (and subsequently jotted down for future inscription upon his tombstone and/or any memorial statues erected in his honor), "A fresh twix is a fresh twix, no matter how full of muddy water your trousers may be."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 29

"This is important, Smush," said Mogey, and for perhaps the first time in his entire life, he had used the word 'important' accurately. That's because the time had come to draft a letter to R. Bellamy Plink, magnet magnate. 

Plink's team of tenacious barristers had caught Mogey and Smush reselling unlicensed magnets and threatened legal action unless the pals issued a satisfactory apology. 

"We send a good letter, we'll be sitting at the Bonksburgh Little League Pancake Breakfast before you know it," Mogey continued. "But we send a bad one and we can kiss every metal object we own goodbye. And I mean every metal object."

Smush clutched at his beloved MC Hammer necklace and sat down heavily, his plate armour pants making a loud clank against the chair. "You're going to write this life-changing letter with that?" he asked finally.

"What's wrong with my pencil? I love a good Dixon Ticonderoga."

"An occasion of this import calls for something... grander," Smush replied, flourishing an elaborate fountain pen.

"You mean like this?" Mogey asked, pulling an antique quill from the depths of his writing desk and thrusting it into his pal's face.

It went on like this for several hours, culminating in Smush attempting to pluck a feather from the tail of their very-much-awake -at-the-time friend, neighbor, and alarm clock: Rooster "The Rooster" Standish. By the end of the week, the pals had lost their refrigerator, their backup refrigerator, and every one of their fondue pots to the magnet magnate, as well as most of Smush's right pinkie to Rooster "The Rooster," but they had darn sure gained some perspective. 

"Life isn't all about owning literally anything made out of metal," Smush later said, "life is about food. Specifically pizza. And I'd like to see a magnet magnate try to take that away."

 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 28

 "What do we do now?" Mogey inquired as the two pals gazed out over the field of dead and dying melons. 

"I'll tell you what we don't do," Smush replied, "we don't ever again try to save sixty-five cents an acre by using rat'n'cabbage fertilizer."

"I know the rat'n'cabbage fertilizer was a bad idea. Given the prevailing westerly winds, the entire community of East Weeble knows it was a bad idea. I don't need you to tell me it was a bad idea. What I'm asking you is what do we do about it?" 

"Well," said Smush, taking a long and stinky breath, "we must do as our forefathers would've done in this situation."

"Rub our foreuncles' big chubby bellies for luck?" Mogey suggested.

"No. Well, yes, but that's not all. The founding fathers of Weeble County would've gathered the entire community together at the top of Scrabbleword Hill, held the first annual Stinkmelon Roll, and then sold clothespins at exorbitant prices." 

"Ah, so that's how we ended up with the world's largest and only Sunburn Festival," Mogey said, rubbing his hands together like the manager of a lotion store just before his first ballet recital. "It's diabolical. You know how the old saying goes: When life gives you stinkmelons, make sure everyone smells those stinky melons." 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 27

 "Mogey," said Smush, excitedly blowing a cloud of ashes from his whiskers, "I do not think it's an exaggeration to say that I've found us the greatest gig in the history of gigs."

Mogey, who knew his pal's history of hairbrained and ill-advised employment, eyed Smush suspiciously. "This better not be as bad as reshingling the latrines at that tuna cannery."

"I thought you liked working at Pupener & Sons! And anyhow, this job blows that one away, at least in an olfactory sense. Here, smell."

Mogey sniffed Smush's proffered sleeve. "Mmm," he said. "Barbeque pitmaster?"

"Not quite," Smush replied. "We'd eat up all the profits."

"Beekeeper?"

"I like where your head is at, but no purveyor of foodstuffs would hire us. In addition to the profits, I think we'd eat up lots of bees besides."

"I give up," said Mogey, finally. "What could this smokey profession be?"

"Just think," Smush answered. "What job has it all? The sweet scent of coal, reliable access to hearth kettles full of porridge, and the distinct possibility of spotting Santa. We're going to be chimneysweeps!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 26

 Mogey used his sleeve to wipe sweat from his brow as he hauled himself over the next branch. He took a deep breath and helped Smush climb up next to him, trying not to let his pal's fingers slip out of his sweat-slicked grip. The way was arduous and fraught with danger, but they had no choice: This was the only way to seek the wisdom of The Sage. 

Twice Mogey nearly fell on the ascent, saved only by quick thinking and the way his muffin top caught on the sappy branches. Smush likewise faltered, but was rescued by a mysterious purple monkey, who introduced himself as Corn Boland, gave Smush a quick peck on the cheek, and disappeared into the forest.

At last the pals reached The Sage's lair, where they were greeted by the sight of a round face, great golden eyes, and a beak sharper than the pincher claw of an Arabian balloon-popper crab.

"Oh wise The Sage," Mogey began, shaking a drop of sweat from the tip of his nose, "we beg your counsel on a matter--"

"Who," hooted The Sage.

"Ah, good point," Smush replied. "I am humble Smush, and this is perspiring Mogey."

"Persevering Mogey, I believe my humble friend means," Mogey said, as more sweat streamed down his damp cheeks. "The Sage, we come seeking your advice on a question with no answer. A riddle only you can solve." He paused and took a deep breath. "Original recipe or extra crispy?" 

In response, The Sage burped mightily and spat out an aged mouse tail. Smush picked up the tail, which crackled between his fingers.

"Extra crispy?" he asked.

"Extra crispy," Mogey confirmed. "The Sage has spoken."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 25

 As Smush entered the final chamber of Das Labyrinth, he encountered an ancient wizard, wrinkly, bent, and balancing a bowl of grapenut ice cream upon his knobbly staff. 

"Congratulations," the wizard croaked, "you have completed the maze and thus earned eternal riches. More gold and jewels than you could ever spend. More sweetened condensed milk than the entire Baking Needs aisle at Publix. And more land than you can cover in a month's ride upon the fastest horse. All of these are now yours."

"Right on," Smush replied.

"But!" the wizard interrupted, his face splitting into a cruel grin. "What good will all these riches do you? For even those few who have found their way to the center of Das Labyrinth have never found their way out." He cackled like a bodybuilder whose jar of Muscleblaster 9000 Pure Animal Protein Powder had arrived two days early.

Now it was Smush's turn to smile. 

"Ha!" he exclaimed. When the wizard didn't respond, he went on. "Ha, I say. Perhaps you did not overhear my 'Ha!' In which case... ha!"

The wizard stared at Smush, befuddled. 

"Ha?" Smush tried once more. "Come now, you ancient coot. Surely our banter requires some give and take? No? Well I care not, for now I will reveal what makes me different from those other champions who made it this far: I marked my path! A string of cooked linguini, a half mile long and intricately knotted will guide me out of the maze."

Now the wizard looked like that same bodybuilder had opened his jar of Muscleblaster 9000 Pure Animal Protein Powder expecting to inhale its intoxicating aroma, only to discover that he'd bought a counterfeit jar of Body By Stinksap instead. 

"Excuse me?" said Mogey, poking his head into Das Labyrinth's final chamber with a heartbreaking length of linguini hanging out of his mouth. "Sorry to interrupt, but does either of you know where I could find some pesto or a good carbonara?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 24

 "My stars," Mogey exclaimed. "Did you see that, Smush? He just ran three hoops on the same shot!"

"Oh?" asked Smush unenthusiastically, though he did prop an elbow onto the grass to take a closer look. "And how's the gentleman from the Northern Wilds doing?" 

Smush was referring to Kyle "Pelt" van Pelt, a fur trapper who only came into the village once a year for this very croquet tournament: Le Grand Régional.

"Dominating, of course," Mogey responded. "Though this year there's a young upstart who may give him a run for his money: Chet Wardrobe."

"Is he the anthropomorphic beaver who keeps giving Pelt the evil eye?"

"That's Chet," Mogey confirmed. "They say he hewed his mallet with his own teeth from a tree once used as a gallows in witchcraft trials. And this match is especially personal for him - do you know Pelt's favorite animal to trap?"

"Beaver?" Smush suggested.

"Skunk. And Chet Wardrobe is a massive advocate for the 'scent-compromised' community.  Le Grand Régional - you've got to love it!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 23

Mogey and Smush were connoisseurs of many things: cat-themed jigsaw puzzles, cat-themed jigsaw puzzle accessories, and the artworks of Felix Bunch, kinetic sculptor. But most of all, they were connoisseurs of meat. 

Like all good connoisseurs, they prized the opinions of true craftsmen, and in the field of meat, the finest craftsmen could be found at Bill Bo's Butchershop. Many a day Mogey and Smush would browse the Staff Picks at Triple B until they found something fresh and innovative.

"Look at this one!" Smush claimed."Veronica describes this porterhouse as 'sturdy and nostalgic; the kind of steak you want to curl up with on a cold winter's night.'"

"Mmm," Mogey replied. "How about this polish sausage? Felipe says it's 'smart, sassy, and provocative.'"

"Big Denny's got some thoughts on the new brisket: 'If you liked MacHull Farms' last brisket, you'll LOVE--'" 

"Herman's got a new pick!" Mogey interrupted. Smush immediately dropped the brisket and rushed to his pal's side. "'A ground chuck redolent of love and loss,'" Mogey intoned. "'The sort of meat that comes along once in a lifetime - if you're lucky. Once you've molded it, seasoned it, and cooked it into a double cheeseburger, your life will forever be changed.'"

"Herman," Mogey and Smush sighed dreamily as they brushed tears from their eyes and loaded up their shopping cart with meat.

 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 22

 Parking was always at a premium in the village of Salmon-on-Croute, so when Mogey and Smush drove their donkey cart into town one famishing Sunday morning, they knew their steed Matildonk would have to take what she could get. 

"What about this one?" Smush asked. "Think we can squeeze in?" 

"It'll be tight," said Mogey. "What do you say, Matildonk?"

Matildonk, who was quite eloquent when she wanted to be, but who rarely wanted to be, stared back at Mogey like he'd asked her whether or not she dyed her mane. 

Smush urged her forward, pulling the cart in between a penny-farthing bicycle and some sort of taco truck. 

"That's far enough!" announced a voice so high it sounded as though it had come through a kazoo. Sitting atop the bicycle seat was a tiny monkey wearing a Burger King crown and holding a butterfly knife in each hand.

"Surely we can reach some arrangement?" Smush suggested warily.

"Unless that arrangement involves your donkey and a bottle of extra zesty barbeque sauce," the monkey replied, brandishing his bedazzled teeth, "I suggest you move along."

"Easy, girl," Mogey said, petting Matildonk's neck, for he could feel the rage of one thousand overworked baristas trembling beneath.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: Quarantine Episode 21

 "Will you cut out that infernal filing noise!" shouted Prisoner 9346 a.k.a. The Bacon Bandit a.k.a. Mogey. 

"Shh!" said a voice from the window. "I'm trying to bust you outta here!"

"Smush! Can it really be you?" 

Sure enough, Smush's jowly face materialized out of the dark, and with one last rasp of his file, the iron bars broke clean through. Like five plump wursts protruding from an arepa con queso, his hand lowered toward his pal, who seized it gratefully, doing his best to ignore the funny pang of hunger he always seemed to feel when he grasped Smush's paw.

With much heaving and gasping (and a short break for jerky and limeade) the pals tumbled out of the prison cell, and into Smush's waiting wagon.

"Quick, get under this canvas," Smush urged, "and I'll drive us home." 

He was just about to put their donkey, Edouard McCluckins, in motion, when up strolled Warden Blubb Hayfever, an ill-tempered walrus who had clearly been at Prisoner 101001's prunejack. 

"Whatcha haulin?" Hayfever inquired, giving the wagon a hearty smack of his flipper. 

"My goat," Smush replied. "Right, goat?"

Mogey knew this was his queue, but he was so nervous that he completely forgot how to do his award-winning goat impression.

"HEWWWWWW!" he cried instead.

"He's an Australian goat," Smush confided. "That's the noise they make. They're all very nervous about falling off, you see." 

"Of what?" asked Warden Hayfever. 

"The Earth. You see, my dear warden, goats are too skeptical to buy into even the simplest scientific concepts. It's the same reason you never see a goat astronomer. That and you don't want wattle wool getting into your telescope." 

"You know, Squash," the warden said, wrapping a flipper around Smush's back and leaning in close enough for the pals to smell the potent mixture of sardines and prunejack on his breath, "that's what I like about you. Every time we talk, I learn something new." 

"HEWWWWWW!" called Mogey once more from beneath the canvas.