Rumors swirled across the countryside that there were foxes about. Fiendishly clever foxes. Devilishly handsome foxes. Foxes that would eat every chicken in your henhouse and not even leave a thank-you note.
As gentlemen who routinely ate three-to-four omelettes per day, Mogey and Smush paid close attention to this scuttlebutt. And they took precautions. The pals installed bells that would ring in each of their bedchambers anytime the henhouse door opened. When this failed to wake them on literally any occasion, they modified the contraption to spill a cupful of jellybeans whenever the henhouse was disturbed. This had the double benefit of instantly awakening the pals and giving them some nourishment to consume en route to the barnyard.
One night, the alarm went off and Mogey and Smush met near the back door in their nightshirts, sprinting for the henhouse as they chomped mouthfuls of jellybeans. When they squeezed through the henhouse door, they immediately encountered a fox sipping a martini as he chatted to several of the hens.
"Evening, gents," the fox said in a posh English accent. "Sorry to barge in on you like this, but I saw the light and thought I might come in and get warm for a moment."
"Not in here, you don't!" Smush hollered. "Out of our henhouse, you cad!"
"Of course I can go if you wish," the fox replied, "but I assure you I have no untoward intent. Count your hens and you'll see I haven't harmed a feather on a single one of their heads."
"It's true, Smush," Mogey confirmed. "Thirty-seven laying hens present and accounted for. Even Plump Peggy, the Rhode Island Red."
"Bawk!" screeched Peggy, who did not appreciate her nickname.
"I still don't like it," Smush said. "A fox in a henhouse? It ain't natural, I tell ya."
"Alright then," said the fox, donning a top hat to take his leave, "I appreciate your civility in any case. Oh also, several of the hens mentioned that it's, erm, 'bad laying weather,' so don't be surprised if you don't find a single egg tomorrow. Goodnight!"
With a burp that smelled intensely of egg salad, the fox swept out of the henhouse and into the night. Mogey and Smush stared after him.
"Man that fox was cool!" Mogey sighed.
"Right?" Smush exclaimed. "It's too bad there are so many villains out there giving the gentlefoxes like him a bad name."
"Bawk!" screeched Plump Peggy.
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