"Smush?" Mogey said as the two pals hoed the beans one summer afternoon . "Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?"
"A bit of body art?" Smush rejoined, mopping his brow.
"That's right."
"Some 'ink,' if you will? How do you know I haven't got one already?"
"The terminology you're using, for one," Mogey replied. "But also remember how you made me attend the Mr. North Ratville pageant last year?"
"They're called bodybuilding competitions!" Smush exclaimed. "Not pageants!"
"The fact that 'Beefy' Bob McGeary won the 'Best Evening Dress' sash would call that into question. But either way, the contest didn't leave much to the imagination - there's no way you were hiding a tattoo on the Mr. North Ratville stage."
"Oh no?" Smush said, grinning wickedly. "What do you call this?" He leaned his head to the right, exposing his neck in the midsummer sun.
"That birthmark?" asked Mogey. "I'd call it a birthmark. Maybe a large freckle if I was feeling generous."
"Oh ho!" Smush announced. "Well you needn't ask if maybe I was born with it. Because I wasn't. And no - I know what you're thinking - it ain't Maybelline neither."
"I wasn't thinking that."
"Well don't think it now! For it is a tattoo!"
"You tattooed a birthmark on your neck?"
"I most certainly did," Smush replied. "I always wanted a birthmark, and so for my last birthday I thought: shoot, might as well splurge and give myself the gift of ink."
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