"Pass me the newspaper, won't you?" Mogey asked Smush one relaxing Sunday morning at about 1:30 in the afternoon.
"I already separated out the funny pages for you," Smush murmured (he was deeply engrossed in an article about the rising popularity of a garment known as a "sport cravat"). "They're over on the ottoman."
"How dast you?" Mogey exclaimed. "I am a man of culture. Of education. Of... of... Encyclopedia Britannica. Yes! A man of Encyclopedia Britannica, and yet you speak to me as though I'm a mere Grolier Multimedia CD-ROM. I am not after the so-called funny pages!"
"My apologies," said Smush. "The classified ads?"
"Guess again, my impertinent friend."
"The obituaries? Arts & Entertainment? Surely you're not wanting the local news?"
"Of course not," Mogey scoffed. "No, it's the business section I'm looking for."
Skeptically, Smush handed it over. Mogey turned the broadsheets once, then twice, growing increasingly befuddled.
"No, Smush. I want the good business section. The illustrated business section with all the speech bubbles."
"That's the funny pages!" Smush bellowed.
"Not to me it's not," said Mogey. "But whatever the section is called, give it here so's I can see the Wizard of Id get down to business already!"
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