The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2025 Edition - Episode 43

"I sense... perturbations in your aura," murmured Madam Damad, her hands clutching Smush's temples. 

"Probably the cheetos I ate with lunch," Smush suggested.

"Smush!" Mogey chastised. "Madam Damad is the finest fortune teller in the district. She says sooths with the best of 'em. I don't think your lunch has anything to do--"

"Crunchy or puffed?" Madam Damad interrupted.

"Crunchy," Smush replied.

"Funny. The texture of your aura is more consistent with a puffed corn snack." 

"Well," said Smush thoughtfully, "they were flamin' hot if that matters."

"Ahhhhh," Madam Damad answered. "That explains it. Yes, the spiciness of the cheese dust makes all the difference in the world."

"So... what's the future hold for me?" Smush asked. 

Madam Damad unveiled her crystal ball and gazed into its murky depths. "I foresee..." she murmured, "a dinner table. Your dinner table. The one at which you will sup this very evening. And upon it I see... even more cheetos."

"WOW!" Smush exclaimed. "You were right, Mogey. She is good!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2025 Edition - Episode 42

"You know what I'm really craving?" Mogey said to the waitress at Macaulay Cluckin's Hen Alone Diner. "An omelette. A big five-egger with muenster cheese. What do you say?" 

"We don't serve omelettes here," the waitress replied. "And quite frankly it's offensive that you would even ask." 

(It is probably worth noting at this point that the waitress, like all the staff at Macaulay Cluckin's, was a four-foot-tall talking chicken.) 

"Sheesh," Mogey responded, "everyone's so sensitive these days. Guess I'll just stick with the mile-high stack of flapjacks."

"I'll have the same," Smush chimed in.

"You know the mile-high is meant to be shared, right?" the waitress buckawed. "It's twenty-five flapjacks doused in a half pound of butter and a quart of maple syrup."

"So by 'shared' you mean... " Smush pondered, "like, there's room on the plate to order something else?" 

"I'll just bring two orders," the waitress clucked, snatching the menus and hopping haughtily away. 

"Pooh pooh and phooey!" Mogey muttered. "How am I to start a day off right without any eggs to eat?"

"It's 1:30 PM," Smush answered.

"Psst!" whispered a scoundrel sitting in the next booth, "youse guys want some eggs? I can hook you up." 

He swung open his trench coat to reveal a dozen tiny pockets, each of which was occupied by an individual hard-boiled egg. 

"Don't do it, Mogey!" Smush urged. "We'll get in trouble."

"Pipe down, narc," Mogey said. Turning back to the reprobate in the next booth he asked, "how much?"

"Tell youse what. Cut me in on a couple of those flapjacks and we'll call it even." 

"MISS! MISS!" Mogey shouted, flagging down the waitress and pointing to the egg smuggler. "This gentleman is attempting to sell us contraband! And what's worse, at completely outrageous prices. Such behavior in Macaulay Cluckin's I've never seen before. He should be escorted from the premises at once!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2025 Edition - Episode 41

A curious feature of the estate Smush had inherited from his Great Uncle Mush von Tush was a miniature volcanic vent known to some as "that real hot hole." In olden times the tiny caldera had been alternately worshipped, studied, and used as the town's primary way to execute bean thieves. Mogey and Smush, of course, used the hellacious gash in the earth's crust for baking bread.

"Oh no. Oh heavens no," Mogey groaned as he gazed into the Hot Hole's brimstoney depths. 

"What is it?" Smush asked.

"One of the loaf pans got pushed too far in. It's sitting in double L."

"Double L? You mean 'Literal Lava??'" Now it was Smush's turn to groan. "What did we have baking in that one?"

"That's the worst news of all," Mogey replied. "It's cinnamon-raisin-bacon." 

Smush's howl was even louder than some of the olden time bean thieves' had been. "We've got to do something!" he exclaimed. "Here: try these oven mitts."

"What temp are those bad boys rated for?" Mogey asked skeptically. 

"I'm not sure," Smush answered, examining the lining of the bright pink mitts. "Ah! It says here 'Approved for Use in Easy-Bake Oven Only.' You know how hot those things get? You should be fine."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2025 Edition - Episode 40

"Whatever is wrong, Mogey?" Smush exclaimed, seeing his pal emerge from the kitchen, weeping uncontrollably.

"Oh nothing," said Mogey with a sniff, "I've just chopped a vast quantity of onions. But now what's the matter with you?"

"I'm sorry!" Smush blubbered. "A vast quantity of any vegetable fills me with sorrow and dread."

"Don't worry, Smush ol' buddy, it's a vast quantity of onions to make an even vaster quantity of cheesesteaks."

At this pronouncement, Smush broke into even more hysterical tears.

"What is it now?" Mogey asked. 

"Tears of joy!" Smush howled.

"What is all this racket? Are you both... crying?" demanded Mug Tuffins, the third resident of the pals' humble abode. Mug worked part time as a bouncer at McKishi's, the Irish pub catering exclusively to sumo wrestlers. "Stop it this instant! There is no excuse for whinging and whining - none whatsoever!"

"Oh yeah?" Mogey whimpered (he had joined Smush in crying tears of joy at the prospect of vaster quantities of cheesesteaks).

"Yeah!" Mug Tuffins confirmed.

"What if... what if silver screen legend Champ Rawhide leaves you a voicemail telling you he's proud of you?" Mogey suggested.

Mug Tuffins did not respond, but even contemplating such a voicemail caused a single tear to spill down his cheek. 

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush: 2025 Edition - Episode 39

"I'm hurtin', Smush," Mogey groaned. "I don't think I've ever been this dehydrated." 

"Why'd you say that in a cockney accent?" Smush inquired.

"What?"

"'Dehydrated.' Why'd you say it like 'dee-hoy-dray-ed?'"

"I just thought that was how it was pronounced."

"Well I can't say as I'm surprised," Smush replied. "You have been working your way through that trough of extra hot chicken wings (in both temperature and flavor) under the midday sun while wearing a sweater."

"It's my special brow-moppin' sweater!" 

"As I stated," Smush continued, "I can't say as I'm surprised. Want a gatorade?"

"What have I told you," shouted a suddenly-energized Mogey, grabbing Smush by the lapels, "about using that term? You know about my family!"

"Ah, right - sorry," said Smush, brushing extra hot chicken wing residue from his lapels. "What was it? Your stepfather was a gator, or something?"

"Toothsome Muggins was an alligator," Mogey corrected, "and a saint. 'Gator' is a pejorative term. When my birth father left us high and dry to pursue a career on the silver screen only to find out his real talent was selling silver screens for Andersen Windows & Doors, guess who stepped up?"

"Toothsome Muggins?"

"Toothsome Muggins," Mogey confirmed. "He might not have had much education beyond swamp grammar school, but no one could ask for a more loving, generous, and scaly stepfather."

"What a guy," said Smush admiringly. "Now then, back to hydration for a moment. Can I offer you a... generic electrolytic thirst quencher?"

"Fierce Grape, please!" Mogey replied.