When Mogey saw Smush enter the beef mincery for their semi-weekly procurement of hamburg, he noticed that his pal looked decidedly forlorn. Hangdog, if you will. Unquestionably down in the mouth.
"Why the long face?" Mogey asked.
"I was mugged," Smush replied, sadly pulling his lower lip up off the mincery floor and tucking it under his front teeth for safekeeping.
"Mugged? Shall I call the constable?" Mogey beckoned Heavenly Kevinly Bunk, heir apparent to the Bunk Minced Beef empire. "Say, Heav Kev: lend me your phone, won't you?"
"What for?" Smush asked.
"Why, to apprehend the villain, of course! We've got to report him to the police."
"I don't understand... what villain?"
"The mugger!" Mogey exclaimed.
"Ah," said Smush hesitantly. "Um... when I say 'mugged...'"
Mogey stared at his pal for a full three minutes before responding. "Please tell me this doesn't have something to do with root beer."
"You weren't there!" Smush declared. "It was the frostiest, foamiest mug of sarsaparilla you've ever seen, and then before I knew it - it was just gone."
"Your telephone, Heav Kev, and my apologies," Mogey intoned as he returned the minced beef proprietor's receiver. "But while I've got you, how about a pound and a half of 80/20?"
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