The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 51

 The Great December Tempest of '35 left many in the lurch. With snowdrifts rising higher than midsize sedans, the trains simply couldn't move. Mogey and Smush's farm was not far from the Bustleburg Railway Hub (with connections to Newington, New Newington, Newington-upon-Fluke, and Bumswood), and since they owned a sleigh driven by two sturdy yorkshire hogs named Mrs. McGillicuddy and The Vandal, they were asked to take in a stranded family on Christmas.

"Now, Smush," Mogey reminded his pal as Mrs. M and T.V. oinked their way through the snow, "our guests are from another culture. We need to remember that their Christmas rituals may be different from ours, and respect their traditions as best we can."

Smush glanced back at the family of seven of who rode behind them in the sleigh. The smallest daughter waved to him cheerily. "They're not going to shoot pistols in the air at midnight or anything, are they?" he grumped.

"I hope not for Saint Nicholas's sake," Mogey answered. "But if that's their Christmas routine, we may need to dust off the blunderbusses and join in!"

They arrived at the farm and got everyone unloaded without incident, which is saying something considering The Vandal's habit of nipping at and consuming mittens belonging to small children. Several hours later, they had all gathered around the woodstove for a pleasant Christmas Eve nightcap. 

"Throw a log on the fire, will ye, lad?" said Ol' Grandad, the guest family's middle son. "That drafty train station chilled me to my bones."

Smush eyed Mogey incredulously. His pal simply mouthed the words Christmas traditions in reply.

So Smush haughtily walked outside and returned with a chocolate-frosted marzipan-filled yule log, which he unceremoniously tossed into the fireplace.

"Was that cake?" exclaimed Ol' Grandad, his teenage voice cracking. "What'd you throw it in the fire for?"

"You asked me to!" Smush replied. 

"Nay, nay," Ol' Grandad said. "I meant a log, you know, like from the log pile."

"Where'd you think I got that one?" a very exasperated Smush replied. "I hope your strange practices don't require too many others to be burnt. We've only got 60 to 70 more yule logs in the pile, and half of them aren't even chocolate."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 50

 Smush was just about to order his first course of butterscotch pancakes when he observed his best pal entering the diner wearing an expression most peculiar. 

"Sup, Mogey?" Smush inquired. 

"There's no Mogey here, my friend."

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes," said Mogey, sliding into Smush's booth. "The Pincher is back!"

He reached across the table faster than a goat nosing through a barnyard fence for a handful of goat pellets and gave Smush's upper arm a firm pinch.

"Ouch!" Smush exclaimed. "Have you been hanging out with Barnabas the Crab again? Every time you see that guy The Pincher returns. And I must tell you in no uncertain terms: The Pincher is an unpleasant fellow. Not at all the kind of character - if you take my meaning - whose butterscotch pancakes would be paid-for by the gift certificate my Great Aunt Whiffy gave me."

"You're right," replied a chastised Mogey. "I apologize."

"Thank you," Smush said, clearly relieved. (His last bout with The Pincher had lasted three weeks.) "Now let's get you some butterscotch pancakes. Say, what's that scuttling sound?"

Suddenly, a large coconut crab wearing a backwards baseball cap leapt onto the bench beside Smush. 

"Barnabas!" Smush cried, as the crab seized his arm with both claws. Mogey used the distraction to once more reach out and pinch his pal, managing to grab the exact same spot he'd tweaked earlier. "Ouch! YOWCH! Go fall off a couch!" Smush hollered.

"It's a classic Pincher movement!" Mogey shouted. He gave Barnabas the Crab the world's knobbliest high five. "You know you've pinched Smush good when he starts hollering in rhymes."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 49

 "What do you think?" Mogey inquired, gesturing to his billowing silken shirt. "The ladies at La Maison de L'oie will like it, right?"

"Let me tell you something, my boy," Smush said, clapping his arm around Mogey's shoulder. "Polka dots went out with polka music. You might as well wear a wolverine pelt and stone shoes. A fancy place like La Maison de L'oie? They might not even let you in."

"What kind of pattern should I wear?" asked a horrified Mogey.

"I've got two words for you..." Smush replied.

"Jazz plaid?"

"Nah."

"Blazin' Hip Hop and R&B herringbone?" Mogey suggested.

"That's way more than two words, and obviously incorrect."

"What then?"

"Listen closely," Smush intoned, "because I'm about to clue you in to the style choice that will define the next decade of fashion: zig zags."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 48

 Mogey was running late, as usual. Smush had stopped by his pal's flat so they could walk over to the cricket match together, but Mogey hadn't quite finished making up the "road snacks" (a half dozen roast beef sandwiches with pickled cucumbers). So that left Smush to wander around the sitting room alone, trying to ignore the sounds of slicing beef and the resulting growling of his tummy (not to mention Mogey's profane shouts when he ran short of pickled cucumbers). 

"I hope that isn't what I think it is..." Smush muttered, peering out Mogey's sitting room window. He rubbed at the window with his thumb and then with his shirt sleeve, but sure enough a smudge besmirched the glass pane. 

Now something important to know about Smush is that he couldn't abide a smudge. It may have had a thing or two to do with his grade school classmates, teachers, and one particularly cruel lunch lady relentlessly calling him "Smudge," "Smudgy," and "Smudge of Fudge," but who knows? 

"Let's get a move-on! I hope you don't mind roast beef-and-slivered almonds," said Mogey, entering the sitting room with a paper packet of sandwiches. "It was the closest thing I had to pickled cucumbers. What in the world are you up to, Smush?"

Smush innocently threw his chisel under the sofa and tried unsuccessfully to tuck his squeegee behind his back. "I, erm, noticed you had a bit of a smudge on your window," he replied.

"That's no smudge," Mogey exclaimed, rushing over to the window. "It's the sacred spot where Albert the Frigid, King of the Chickadees, met his demise."

"Is that why all those birds outside are giving me the stink eye?" Smush asked.

"They come here to pay homage to their fallen king," Mogey nodded. "Some say he saw in my window a promised land for his people. Some say he'd just had a bit too much fermented birdseed. Either way, he flew full speed into the glass, and this became the holiest spot in all chickadeedom. I hope for your sake that chisel of yours isn't much good at degreasing."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 47

 The party had begun to drag. All the classic signs were there: Several guests asked the stablehands to begin readying their coaches. Others were checking their pocketwatches. Even Scrumptious John, the lush postman, carried only a single beverage in his hand and was starting to look around for his mailbag. 

"Do something, Mogey!" Smush urged. 

"You know what this party needs?" Mogey replied, surveying the scene from the upstairs landing. "Some music!"

"But Snooter Malone and his Prickly Seven are already playing their little hearts out," said Smush, gesturing to the hedgehog octet performing in the breakfast nook.

Mogey rummaged in the upstairs closet and brought forth a large instrument case. "I think we need something..." he began, snapping the case open.

"Oh no," Smush responded, his head in his hands.

"...a little more powerful," Mogey concluded. He produced his grandfather's accordion and gave it a nice strong squeeze. The instrument's rich and thunderous sounds immediately drowned out the bored mumbles of the guests (not to mention the Prickly Seven).

"Freebird!" requested Scrumptious John as he abandoned his mailbag in favor of another drink.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 46

 The intensity of the moment hung over the poker table like an aged salami. Also there was a distinct fragrance of aged salami. Smush stared at Mogey. Mogey stared at Count Higgins. Count Higgins stared at Braggadocious Gil, the mole with 20/20 vision.

"I see your hundred dollars," said Count Higgins, "and I raise you another hundred." 

"I see your raise," replied Braggadocious Gil. "Quite literally. Don't know if I've mentioned it, but I'm a mole with 20/20 vision. And as a mole with 20/20 vision, I re-raise you yet another hundred!"

"What about it, Mogey?" Count Higgins inquired. "The action goes to you. Have you enough to continue?"

Mogey peered at his cards, then at his meager stack of poker chips, and then back at his cards. He crammed another slice of aged salami into his mouth. "Smush?" he said with a large and obvious wink. "I'm a bit short. Do you think you could lend me a 'Buck?'"

Smush began to slide a one-dollar chip toward his pal, who scrunched up his neck and shook his head until Smush caught on. "Ah," Smush realized, returning a wink of his own. With eyebrows raised, he withdrew from his collar his most prized family heirloom, a sterling silver necklace featuring a bespectacled 10-point buck wearing a t-shirt with Good Eye Deer splashed across the front. But again Mogey shook his head. 

Finally, Smush reached for the bag at his feet and unzipped it a smidge. Several chickens poked their heads out and Mogey nodded sagely. 

"I call," Mogey uttered at last, "...upon Buck Buck Saint Petersburg and her Foul Fowls!" 

"What's happening?" Count Higgins inquired.

Smush threw the bag into the air and a half dozen chickens burst forth in a spray of feathers, beaks, and claws. They immediately set about eating cards, pecking the players, and causing a general kerfuffle. 

"Let chaos reign, Buck Buck!" Mogey shouted. "I've got the aged salami, Smush - you grab the poker chips!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 45

 Pat pat pat

Smush's eyes snapped open. He gazed around the circular confines of his tepee wondering what had awoken him, but seeing nothing, he laid his head back down on the furs. 

Pat pat pat

There it was again! Smush untangled himself from the mixture of blankets, stuffed animals, and pizza roll wrappers and poked his head out the tent flap. 

"Is that you, Mogey?" he queried. 

"Indeed! Didn't you hear my knocking?" 

"How many times must I tell you that it is simply not possible to knock on the door of a tepee? And why are you wearing your galoshes?" 

"Puddles," Mogey replied simply, sweeping his arm across the valley. Smush gave his pal a long and indecipherable look. 

"You know something?" he said. "You're exactly right!" He sprinted inside the tepee, pulled on his own galoshes, and proceeded to frolic out into the many pools of water that had accumulated overnight.

Smush found a particularly meaty puddle and was having a good old splash-about when the beat dropped. A blast of house music echoed through the valley, intense enough to vibrate the surface of the water he stood in.

"Erm," Mogey said awkwardly. He had donned a pair of tinted sunglasses and a feather boa. "I think you may have misunderstood. I was referring to Mudd D. Puddles, that DJ who uses galoshes to scratch his records. He's doing a concert t'other side of the valley!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 44

 The house Smush lived in was profoundly haunted. Most days this proved a mild inconvenience. On All Hallows' Eve, however, it was a moderate-to-major inconvenience. Every spirit would get all wound up and overstimulated by the day's excitement, and most flummoxing of all, they would begin to compete with one another. 

One All Hallows' Eve, Mogey happened to call upon his pal just as the sky was darkening. No sooner has Smush admitted him to the foyer than they were accosted by a ghoul.

"Boo!" said the ghoul.

"Yes, yes," Mogey replied.

"Move along," Smush added. 

"You call that spooky?" scoffed a specter who materialized out of the coat rack. "I suppose it's the best one can expect from a mere phantom."

"I'm no phantom," snapped the indignant ghoul. "I am a ghoul, and proud of it!"

"What is a ghoul but a phantom who woke up on the wrong side of the bed that day?" 

"And I suppose you think specters are spookier?" 

"I don't think it. I know it!" the specter answered. He was shouting now. 

"Well?" taunted the ghoul. "Let's see what you've got."

The specter squinched up his face. The room darkened as the candles flickered. The sound of jangling chains echoed in the distance. 

"You'll have to excuse us, gentleghosts," Smush interrupted. Immediately the candles flared back to life. "We've got tickets to a midnight screening of The Creature from the Black Lagoon and if we don't leave now, we're going to miss the coming attractions. But have fun with all the spookiness. No broken mirrors or scrawled messages on the walls this year, please?"

"Boo!" the ghoul tried one more time, but his heart didn't seem to be in it. The specter snickered spookily. 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 43

 "Smush, could you come to my desk, please?" said Mrs. Pewterpuff. "And yes, Mogey - before you ask - you might as well come with him."

The pals trudged to the front of the classroom and stood before the 97 pounds (99 with her spectacles on) of pure intimidation that was Gertrude Savage Pewterpuff. 

"Now then," the teacher intoned, "in the essay you turned in yesterday you described a night sky like so: 'the moon shone like a shiny moon.'"

"Good one, Smush," Mogey congratulated his pal. "I remember that night!" 

"Incorrect," said Mrs. Pewterpuff, proffering a withering glance. "That is not a good one. It is in fact a very bad one. Try comparing the moon to something other than the moon, please."

"Alright," Smush agreed, nodding his head enthusiastically. "What about this: The moon shone like a glistening ham."

"Oh, I've got one," Mogey chimed in. "The moon shone like a well-lit bowl of rice pudding." 

"Better," Mrs. Pewterpuff muttered, "but let's try one that isn't food-related."

Mogey and Smush stared at their teacher, looking more perplexed than a pair of soft drink enthusiasts who've just tasted baking soda for the first time. After a minute's contemplation, however, an idea occurred to Smush.

"I know!" he exclaimed. "The moon shone like a disturbingly empty dinner plate."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 42

 When the lunch whistle blew at the loofah mill, the workers' first thought was, of course, lunch. But after they'd mown through the roast beast sangwiches and cornish pasties in their lunch pails, the biggest, toughest, orneriest mill workers would gather in the courtyard for a thumb rassle. These monstrous men, their digits strengthened by years of loofah production, often sprained or even fractured one anothers' thumbs, so intense were their battles.

On one such lunch break, Mogey and Smush watched Mule Rodriguez square off against Mouse "The Trap" von Trapp. 

"Mule's going to dominate," Smush whispered. "Look at him - he's got his game face on."

"I'm not so sure," Mogey replied in an equally low tone. "He might just be queasy. I saw him gobbling down an obviously rancid pasty earlier."

"Wanna make things interesting?" queried Smush.

"You're on!" Mogey replied. 

Mule won the first two matches of the seven-match series with ease, celebrating the victories with his trademark "Hee-haw jig." But The Trap came roaring back, winning three of the next four matches. And so it all came down to the pivotal seventh match. 

The pure power of Mule's massive pollex seemed destined to prevail, but The Trap's thumb hunted Mule's like a mongoose hunts a king cobra: patiently waiting and then striking with surgical precision. At the very moment when it seemed Mouse "The Trap" von Trapp had worn Mule Rodriguez down and would soon strike the killing blow, an entire wedding cake crashed onto the table, covering both combatants, and - more importantly - their thumbs. 

The courtyard was thrown into chaos: so entranced had all the bystanders become by the match that not a single person saw who had dropped the cake. By longstanding tradition, in a thumb rassle tie, the competitor with the least amount of punctuation in his name was declared the winner. It was a Mule Rodriguez victory. 

"What were you thinking?" Smush demanded as his pal came scurrying back. "You were about to win our bet!"

"What bet?" Mogey said, licking a telltale bit of frosting from his forearm. "I sure made things interesting, didn't I?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 41

 "How do I look?" Smush inquired.

"Like a fellow who's about to meet the Elven Ambassador," Mogey said. He brushed a bit of lint (and a rogue tootsie roll wrapper) from the shoulders of his pal's jacket and honked his nose. "Honk."

"Honk," Smush agreed, honking Mogey's nose in return. 

The pals exited through the front door and joined the throngs of townspeople walking toward the village square.

"Honk, Bombus," Mogey greeted their neighbor, Shawn Bombus, with a polite honk of the man's snout. 

"Honk, Mogey, honk, Smush," Bombus replied, returning the favor. "Say, congratulations on being selected to represent the village, Smush." 

"Thank you," Smush replied with a dignified honk of neighbor Bombus's beak. 

When they reached the village square, Mogey and Smush had to push through a crowd to reach the little stage that had been erected. An ornate horse-drawn carriage, gleaming whiter than a bowl of yogurt, stood nearby. With a nudge of encouragement from Mogey, Smush mounted the dais. 

A hush fell over the crowd as the carriage door opened. Out stepped the most striking individual Smush has ever beheld. The elf stood seven feet tall, her silvery hair falling past her knees, which were ensconced in ornately bedazzled jeans. She seemed to glow like a very well-illuminated bowl of yogurt.

With impossible grace, the elven ambassador stepped up to join Smush on the stage. After a moment's hesitation, Smush greeted her in the customary fashion.

"Did you just honk my nose?" the elf thundered. 

"Of course," Smush answered. "Honk."

The crowd looked on expectantly as the ambassador contemplated this most peculiar turn of events. "I think I'm going to like it here," she said at last.

"Good," Smush replied. "Now do you by any chance have some yogurt in that carriage? I've got a real craving for some reason."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 40

Mogey and Smush strode the darkened hallways of the aquatic vivarium, gazing at various fish, molluscs, and other sea creatures.

"Hold it, Smush," Mogey said, skidding to a halt. "This little crab has something stuck on his rump."

"Please don't roll your r's when you say 'rump,'" Smush requested. "But it seems you're correct. Miss! Pardon me, miss!" He flagged down a passing aquarist and pointed into the tank. "This miniature fellow seems to have his rump lodged in a seashell. Can you help him?"

"We really do prefer it if you roll your r's when you refer to our animals' rumps," replied the keeper, "but worry not! That's a hermit crab. That shell is his home." 

"Wow!" Mogey marveled. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"Carrying your house around on your back?" Smush inquired.

"No sir," said Mogey. "'Hermit crab.' I just had a vision of hermit crabs with butter and cajun seasoning for £19.99."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 39

 Mogey and Smush - along with virtually every other resident of Dusty Bend - stood gathered around the steps of town hall. They had come to hear the words of Travelin' Mike, the famed cure-all salesman. Mike was a known fraud, but boy was he fun to listen to. 

"Come one, come all" exclaimed Travelin' Mike, his long and lustrous mullet sparkling in the sunshine. "Ready yourselves for astonishment and flabbergasteration as I tell you about this miracle of modern medicine: chewable leeches!"

"Tell us more, Travelin' Mike!" Mogey shouted.

"Yes sir, it's everything you love about leeches, now in a chewable form. Cures everything from skin rashes and tummy troubles to toothaches and baldness. Give yourself the gift of youth and vitality you never dreamed of when you were young and vital: Find your soulmate! Get a promotion! Win a greasy pole climbing competition!"

"What else, Travelin' Mike?" asked "Dusty" Ben Mayer, the Mayor of Dusty Bend (and yes, the similarity of his name to that of his station had been a central tenet of his mayoral campaign).

"Well, Mr. Mayor," Travelin' Mike replied uncertainly, "that's about all there is to say about chewable leeches."

"Sell us something else!" a lady in the crowd requested.

"Say," Travelin' Mike murmured as realization dawned, "isn't anyone here going to actually buy anything?"

"Do you sell lessons in public speaking?" Smush queried. "I'd buy a yearlong subscription."

"No, no, no," Travelin' Mike grumped. "I can't share my sales secrets, and I knew there was a reason I hadn't been through here in a while. You Dusty Bendites clearly aren't sophisticated enough for chewable leeches."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 38

 As Mogey hefted each bale of straw onto the wagon, Smush bound it tightly with red licorice ropes. The pals found that the dairy cows who ate straw baled in this way gave milk that was pre-Nestle Quik'd, saving them both time and the ghastly visage of plain white milk.

"Smush," Mogey asked, "would you say I have a loud mouth?"

Smush pondered for a moment. "A loud tummy? Yes."

"Especially before tea time," Mogey agreed.

"But a loud mouth? I wouldn't say so. Not especially."

"That's exactly what I told the fellow at the crossroads. I was in the good wagon with Measly Pete in the reins, and he got us into the intersection first. Yet some gent comes screaming through with a four-in-hand and he tried to go ahead of us. So I says to the man, I says, 'Oi! It's my turn!' And he says to me, he says, 'Fine then! Go ahead, loudmouth!'"

"That's some story," said Smush, tying down another bale of straw. "What'd Mr. Four-in-hand have to say when you disputed his claim?"

"It was the strangest thing," Mogey replied. "He asked Measly Pete for his thoughts on the matter."

"He wanted our draft mule's opinion about whether you're a loudmouth?"

"That's right. And would you believe it, Measly Pete looked me straight in the eye and nodded his head!" 

"Well then, I guess that settles it," Smush noted, taking a sneaky nibble of red licorice rope. "I'll be preserved in a jar of ploughman's pickle before I disagree with Measly Pete."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 37

Smush awoke in the wee hours, realizing quickly that Mogey was tossing and turning in the next hammock over. 

"Psst," Smush whispered. "PSST!"

"Psst yourself," Mogey grumbled, poking his head out. 

"You rang?" queried Psst Coogan, the most syballant student at St. Rumbly's School for Famished Youths. 

"Not you, Coogan!" Smush whispered.

"Hmmph," Psst Coogan replied, laying back down with a raspy sigh.

"You rang?" inquired Hmmph Rodrigues, a surly dwarf three hammocks down.

"By St. Rumbly's sacred divider plate!" Smush exclaimed. "Mogey and I are trying to have a private conversation here!" 

"About what?" Mogey whispered.

"I noticed you were struggling to get some shuteye. What's troubling you?"

"I- I suppose I'm a bit nervous about the ghost."

"Ol' Velveeta?" Smush asked with surprise. "He's harmless!"

"No, no, no," Mogey insisted. "Ol' Velveeta is a ghoul, and not a very ghoulish one at that. I'm talking about St. Rumbly's most infamous spirit: G. Willikers."

"Willikers is pretty spooky," Smush admitted. "But don't worry: He's got a major weakness and I happen to know what it is. Simply mention 'raspberry lime rickeys' and G. Willikers becomes so thirsty that he'll float off in search of beverages."

"Close," called a ghostly voice from the ceiling, "but I actually prefer egggggg creeeeeeeeeeeeams..."

"G. WILLIKERS!" Mogey exclaimed. He, Smush, Psst, Hmmph and all the rest screamed at the tops of their lungs as they scrambled desperately out of their hammocks and sprinted for the dormitory window.

When Brother Antipasto came to awaken the students the following morning, he found them all hunched on the roof, using their hammocks for shelter and muttering about G. Willikers and classic drugstore beverages. 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 36

Mogey's Great Uncle Chaz, the gentleman he'd lived with for several of his boyhood years, was typically quite jovial. But when he descended into a pit of the grumps, the only person who could pull him out was Mogey's best pal Smush. (Or as Great Uncle Chaz called him, "that Squishy fellow.")

On one such occasion, after Great Uncle Chaz was awakened from his afternoon kip by a leafblower and - upon rising - learned that his favorite Thai restaurant had shut down, Smush was sent for with great urgency.

"What seems to be the trouble, G.U.C.?" Smush inquired when he arrived. 

"Nothing, nothing at all," Great Uncle Chaz replied. "I'm perfectly satisfied that my neighbor's gardener seems to think 3 PM is an appropriate time to operate heavy machinery. And I'm not at all bothered that LabraNoodle closed its doors for good with no notification to even the most loyal customers."

"Hmm," Smush said thoughtfully. "Alright. I believe I have an idea that'll cheer you up. Repeat after me: It's all Mogey's fault."

"But he didn't..."

"Uh uh uh," Smush interrupted, wagging a finger (which was for some reason dusted with baby powder) in Chaz's face. "It's all Mogey's fault."

"It's all Mogey's fault?"

"It's all. Mogey's. Fault."

"It's all Mogey's fault," Chaz chorused. "You know something? I do feel better!"

It was at this moment that Mogey appeared, windswept and raw from a lengthy ride on his razor scooter. 

"I came as soon as I heard," he exclaimed. "You've been stricken with grumps, Great Uncle? How can I help?"

"You can get back out there and fire up the woks at LabraNoodle!" Chaz shouted. "And throw your accursed leafblower in the dumpster while you're at it!"

Mogey - for once - was rendered speechless.

"Better do as the man says," Smush added quietly.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 35

 Mogey and Smush strode the farmers market, fighting their way through such unappealing foodstuffs as vine-ripened tomatoes, sun-kissed local strawberries, and lettuces of every shape, color, and disgusting taste. They were on the hunt for the hidden gems that every farmers market contains if you know where to look: your deep-fried candy bars, your energy drink giveaways, your beef-, duck-, and venison-jerky purveyors.

Suddenly the pals stopped short, gasping in unison. They stared at the man sitting beneath the pop tent before them.

"Do you know who that is?" Smush whispered.

"You bet I do," Mogey replied. "That's Dr. Spice, the world's greatest architect of dusts for chips, crackers, and crisps."

"The first man who combined sour cream and onion."

"In dust form."

"The Baron of BBQ."

"The Padre of Powdered Cheez." 

The pals breathlessly rushed up to Dr. Spice's tent and fell to their knees. "Dr. Spice! Dr. Spice!" they shouted.

"Please," said the man, completely unsurprised by their behavior, "call me Spice."

"Ok, Spice!" Mogey exclaimed. "Would you--"

"Ahem, that's Doctor Spice," interrupted that master of flavor dust.

"Erm, of course," Mogey stuttered. "Dr. Spice, would you share your secrets with us? We'll do anything! We'll become your apprentices. We'll work for free. Just teach us the magic of your flavors!"

"Anything?" asked Dr. Spice.

"Anything," Smush confirmed.

"Well then, all you need to do is pay forty-- ahem-- fifty-nine ninety-nine for my book." Dr. Spice held up a hefty volume entitled Flavour Dust in the Wind. "It literally has all the recipes in it."

"We'd have to... read?" Mogey asked uncertainly.

"Are you sure we can't just be your unpaid apprentices?" Smush added.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 34

 "Boy are we lucky," gushed Smush as he held the door open for his pal.

"Why's that?" Mogey replied. "Oh, right - because Waffles Incorporated offered to send me on an all expenses-paid trip after I fell into that vat of batter on the factory tour?" 

"No! Well, yes, that was lucky, but I was more thinking of how fortunate we are to live in a time period when travel agencies exist." 

"It seems on-brand for us," Mogey agreed. 

"Welcome to Beau Owooo Travel. What can I do for you fellows?" inquired a serious-looking wolfman at the front desk.

"Are you the titular Beau Owooo?" asked Smush. 

"The same," confirmed the wolfman.

"I won a waffle-sponsored all expenses-paid trip!" Mogey exclaimed, rather too excitedly. "Any recommendations?"

"Hmm," said Beau. "Would you say you're more interested in the moon or demolishing pigs' houses?"

Mogey and Smush glanced at one another. "Neither?" Smush ventured.

"Sheep poaching it is, then!" Beau responded. "Excellent choice. Now I can offer you a lovely excursion in the south of Ireland that comes with a free sheep-suit. Or if you're looking for something more adventurous, we have an arrangement with a crafty sheepdog in New Zealand who'll test the very limits of your cleverness!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 33

Boating through a glacial calving field in the dead of night was dangerous, but that was the best time to catch icewater anchovies, and Mogey and Smush loved icewater anchovies.

Still, it was stressful. One moonless night, Smush stood at the helm of the McFish while Mogey served as a spotter. This was a controversial assignment for Mogey, who was supposed to scan the water for obstacles, but often got distracted scanning for icewater anchovies instead.

"Berg!" Mogey shouted, sending his pal into a panic. "Berg! Dead ahead!"

"Where?" Smush exclaimed. "I can't see it!" The McFish swerved as he struggled to regain control while staring into the night.

"Just there!" Mogey pointed, but all Smush could see was another anchovy skiff like the McFish.

"Is it behind the skiff?" Smush asked.

"It is the skiff," Mogey rejoined. "Ahoy!" he hailed the other vessel as it drew near. 

"The skiff is an iceberg?" Smush demanded.

"No, not iceberg," Mogey said with a roll of the eyes, "it's my buddy, Berg van der Berg." 

A tall fellow in a viking helmet emerged from the other boat's cabin. He wore a black t-shirt that read simply: BERG. "Ahoy yourself!" Berg stated. "How are those anchovies biting?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 32

 "It's tonight," said Mogey, simply.

"You think I don't know that?" Smush demanded. "You think I haven't thought about that every doggone day for the past year?"

 

"Sheesh," Mogey replied. "It's just a party."

"Just. A. PARTY?" Smush exclaimed. "Any more commentary like that and I will be forced to Brat Ratly along as my guest instead of you."

"You're bluffing," Mogey said. "The Baroness von Snapback would never allow vermin into her annual Hat Jamboree."

"Hey!" squeaked Brat Ratly, who - to no one's surprise - had been eavesdropping.

"Fair enough," Smush admitted as he watched Brat Ratly scurry sulkily away. "Now, on to business. What hats are we going to wear?"

"I was thinking about this little number," Mogey said as he slapped a visor atop his gourd.

"Don't make me call Ratly back in here. A visor is the very antithesis of a hat. A hat with the hat part removed, if you will."

"Well what are you going to wear then, Mr. Smartson Hat-Pants Man?"

"I'm glad you asked," Smush rejoined, opening a large, round box. "I am currently in possession of - wait for it - an antique pork pie. Its provenance is not well-documented, but there is some speculation that the sheen on the sweatband came from the bald dome of none other than Count Dracula himself." 

Mogey took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. "In the first place, Count Dracula was not bald, he was famously hirsute. In the second place, the pork pie hat was invented centuries after Count Dracula lived. And in the third place, the only person who would look sillier in a pork pie hat than Count Dracula is, in fact, you."

The cackles of Brat Ratly could be clearly heard emanating from inside the living room wall.

"Those are some good points," said Smush. "Unrelated question: Do you have a second visor I could borrow?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 31

It took five hours at the claw machine and more quarters than you'd see at the bottom of Lucky Leo's Wishing Well (which stood conveniently near the courthouse steps), but at last Smush had it: a real Genooine™ sheriff's badge.

Mogey detected a change in his pal almost immediately. On the way home from the arcade, he badgered their donkey, Frito Melange, to move faster. He commanded the neighborhood children to spray their silly string in a more orderly fashion. He lectured the oven to make his tater tots crispier.  

When Smush instructed the mice under the kitchen table to "quit stealing our tot crumbs and get back to work!" Mogey had to interject.

"I do believe that badge has gone to your head, Smush," he stated.

"Has it?" Smush asked, polishing the badge on his shirt and then checking his reflection. "Or has it gone to everyone else's head?" He gestured to the mice at their feet.

Sure enough, though they did so reluctantly, the tiny creatures had abandoned the crumbs and were trudging back to their bolt hole.

"I guess there's a new sheriff in town," grumbled one.

"What's a sheriff?" another replied. "I just wanted to get away from that guy with the shiny button. Something has clearly gone to his head."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 30

 Mogey and Smush huddled around the shining copper kettle anxiously, for it was well into the hot cocoa hour, and they'd yet to consume any hot cocoa. 

"Come onnnnn," Mogey urged the kettle. 

"Haven't you ever heard the old saying 'a watched pot never boils?'" Smush asked wisely.

"'Course," Mogey replied, "but I believe I've proven time and again that adage doesn't apply to me. No, for ol' Mogey, part of the fun of making hot cocoa is outfoxing this wily cauldron." 

"Why do I put myself in these situations?" Smush groaned. 

Mogey, ignoring his pal, said "what'll it be today then, kettle, old chum? I tried begging to no avail. Is it a bit of firmer encouragement you need? Boil that water now, or I'LL MELT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU INTO A TOILET FLAPPER CHAIN!"

The kettle stood motionless. It certainly did not boil. Smush put his head in his hands.

"No luck with threats, eh?" Mogey muttered. "What about striking a deal? Tell you what: boil now, and you'll get a double dose of copper polish this evening, plus once a month we'll get our hot cocoa from Zaxby's and give you a day off."

And whether enough time had simply passed for the water to hit its boiling point or the kettle found the promise of 12 vacation days per year too tempting to pass up, it immediately began to whistle. Smush looked like a convicted lotion thief whose appeal has just been denied, but who has also learned that there's a new hot cocoa machine in the prison commissary. 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 29

 "Who's ready for dessert?" asked Auntie Bickle.

"Oh I couldn't possibly," said Pepper Fernandez, the first of three very polite triplets Mogey had invited for dinner aboard his favorite aunt's houseboat. 

"I'm far too full from that succulent meal," said Popper Fernandez, the second triplet.

"Perhaps just a cup of coffee?" said Bully the Frog, the third Fernandez triplet.

"WE ARE!" chorused Mogey and Smush hungrily.

"Please tell me dessert is what I think it is," Mogey added, looking hopefully to his Aunt.

"Of course, dearie," Auntie Bickle confirmed, reappearing with a steaming pan. "My world-famous monkey bread!"

Predictably, Mogey and all three Fernandez triplets immediately tucked in with gusto. Smush, however, hesitated. 

"Not hungry, dearie?" Auntie Bickle inquired.

"Starved," Smush replied. "But I'm not so sure about monkey bread. Is it actually made from monkeys?"

"Oh ho ho ho," Mogey chortled, slapping his friend on the back. "Don't be silly, Smush. You've got it all wrong! The bits of real monkey are the very thing that make monkey bread so delectable."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 28

When the day came for Smush to unveil his grand machine, the only ones present (or so he thought) were Mogey, a half dozen nesting hens, and their next door neighbor, a rock creature named Stone Baloney. 

Mogey privately believed the reason for such a modest ceremony was Smush's apprehension that the machine would fail. On the other hand, his pal wore a cape - and an ostentatious cape at that - to the occasion and spoke boldly to the onlookers:

"Behold!" Smush thundered. "For I have accomplished what all the so-called 'ancient masters' could not. I give you... the Perpetual Train!"

Smush whipped a cloth away to reveal a vehicle nearly as jumbled as Cap'n Flunk's Hodgepodge Van (a well-known local curiosity). It was a trolley car with a crane mounted on the roof. Smush leapt into the vehicle to demonstrate how the crane's grabber arm could reach behind the trolley, seize a section of train track, then rotate around to place the track just ahead of its front wheels. The trolley then rolled forward onto the new track, and did the whole procedure over again. Thus the Perpetual Train could move continuously, using only a few short sections of train track.

The crowd went wild. And by "wild," I mean that Mogey and Stone Baloney applauded while the nesting hens ruffled their feathers and bugaw-ed. 

Suddenly, however, the festivities were silenced by a clanging noise beneath the trolley. This was followed by a muffled "help! Help!"

"The Perpetual Train's first stowaway!" Smush cried. He threw wide a trapdoor in the trolley's floor. Crammed into the compartment beneath was a beefy man wearing a purple top hat. "Cap'n Flunk?" Smush exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" 

"Indeed it is I," said Flunk with a flourish of his top hat (if it is possible to flourish in a compartment beneath the floor of a train). "And I'm quite embarrassed to admit that I got stuck snooping. I felt my Hodgepodge Van might be threatened by the promise of your great machine, you see."

"You were trying to sabotage the Perpetual Train?" Mogey demanded.

"No, no, no, of course not," insisted Cap'n Flunk. "This was merely a reconnaissance mission!"

"Well who let you into the train?" Smush inquired.

"Him," Cap'n Flunk said, pointing to Stone Baloney. 

Mogey and Smush both stared at their neighbor in frustrated disbelief, hands on their hips. Stone Baloney, for his part, did his best to look innocent by averting his eyes and chomping into drumstick-shaped hunk of quartz.  

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 27

 As Smush waited for the barista to prepare his favorite beverage - a quadruple mocha latte, hold the espresso - he heard an urgent whisper from behind a nearby tapestry.

"Psst, Smush! Over here! It's me, Mogey."

"No introduction needed, my friend," Smush replied, ducking behind the drapery to join his pal. "You're quite literally the only person I know in this town who would hide behind a coffee shop tapestry. Although I must say: It smells fabulous back here."

"That's my quadruple mocha latte, hold the espresso," said Mogey. "Care for a sip?"

"I'm already waiting on one, thank you. Anyway, what's got you acting so clandestine?"

"My crush is over there," Mogey admitted, pointing toward the oatmeal bar. Smush gazed in the direction his pal indicated, and a glimmer of understanding illuminated his face.

"How many times must I tell you that the Sun-Maid Raisins girl is not real?" Smush said gently.

"BEHIND the raisin box, ye roustabout!"

"Is that Luciana Blunderbuss? Heiress to the Gardetto Snack Mix fortune?"

"And the greatest thumb-wrestler in three counties," Mogey confirmed with a lovesick sigh. "You know what?" Mogey continued, profoundly unprompted, "you're right. I should just go talk to her!"

"No, Mogey, she's--" Smush began, but his pal was already gone. "...famously both hard of hearing and ill-tempered. Godspeed, comrade." 

What Mogey said, only the other patrons of the oatmeal bar will ever know, but Luciana Blunderbuss's response was to slap him across the face, give him an enormous smooch on the cheek, and engage him in an impromptu thumb-wrestling match that pushed Mogey to the very limits of his fortitude. 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2024 Edition - Episode 26

Of all Smush's prized possessions, the most prized of all was his '32 Duckbert Crawler. The automobile possessed four on the floor, a baby blue exterior, and no fewer than 13 cupholders. 

One afternoon, Mogey stopped by to find Smush standing in his garage, admiring the Duckbert Crawler as usual.

"I thought you might be in here," said Mogey.

"Indeed?" Smush replied.

"Indeed. Though I don't know how you can just stand around looking at a car--"

"Not just any car. A '32 Duckbert--"

"...Crawler. I know, I know," Mogey muttered. "Anyhow, I brought you one of those milkshakes you like. You know, where I get the shop to replace the milk in your milkshake with... a second milkshake? Here it--WHOOPS!" 

Upon that exclamation, Mogey spilled a hearty cascade of milkshakeshake across the hood of the '32 Duckbert Crawler. To his credit, Smush did not panic. He immediately elbowed Mogey out of the way, took a long draught of what little milkshakeshake remained in the cup, and - in one fluid motion - began to spray the '32 Duckbert Crawler down with a hose. 

"My sincerest apologies," Mogey stammered. "Allow me to assist. Have you got a diaper or something that I can use to dry her off?"

"Please!" Smush scoffed. "A diaper is far too rough for the delicate paint job of a '32 Duckbert Crawler."

"What then? A ShamWow?" 

"I'd sooner see my Gram Gram's spectacles stolen than see a ShamWow touch this vehicle. No, this is a job reserved for a true specialist. Are you ready, GF?"

Smush's chinchilla, Gargoyle Fluffington, saluted solemnly from his cage and fluffed his fur. He knew his proudest moment was nigh.