When Mogey saw Smush return to their apartments, he knew immediately that an evening of consolation was in store. Tears streamed down his pal's face and Smush's right arm was plunged into a bag of donuts up to the elbow (a contented Smush would've had both hands in the donut bag).
"What is it?" Mogey queried, patting his pal on the back. "What's happened?"
"Dorothy e-e-ended it!" Smush howled, throwing himself to the ground in anguish (and also because he had dropped a cruller down there).
"Now, Smush, let us talk it out. This wouldn't be the first time you mistakenly thought Dorothy was breaking things off. What did she say exactly?"
"Ok," Smush said, "alright. We were at dinner--"
"Where?" Mogey demanded.
"Her favorite place for duck: Quackin' in the Bracken."
"Go on," Mogey mumbled around a mouthful of pilfered donut.
"So we were at dinner, and Dorothy said to me, she said, 'You know how people say one is the loneliest number? When I'm with you, I feel like two is the loneliest number.'" As he related the story, Smush's wails started up afresh.
"Oh, Smush, that's a compliment!"
"R-really?" Smush asked, wiping tears and glaze from his face.
"Of course! Let me ask you this: How many ducks did you order?"
"Two."
"And how many were remaining when Dorothy made that comment?"
"None. We'd eaten it all."
"You see?" Mogey said. "Clearly Dorothy was commenting on the fact that when you dine together, a plate holding two ducks is soon to feel mighty lonely."
"I think I understand..." said Smush. "But how is that a compliment again?"
"Trust me. What happened next?"
"Let's see... Dorothy threw a glass of water into my face, stuffed a duck carcass into my sweater, boinked my nose, and said, 'tell Mogey you're not mistaken this time. I never want to see you again!'"
"Hmm," Mogey replied.
"What do you think it all means?" Smush asked.
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