"What are your plans for the summer, Mogey?" Smush queried as the pals sat upon their favorite park bench (the one right near the frost heave where you could see passersby trip in most spectacular fashion).
"Two words," Mogey replied. "Island living."
"Great idea!" said Smush. "Tell me about the top candidates. Aruba? Jamaica?"
"Nope and nope."
"Bermuda?"
"Certainly not."
"Bahama?"
"No," Mogey answered. "Also pretty sure that's not a singular noun."
"What about Key Largo?" Smush asked.
"Let me stop you right there, Smushy. I am most definitely not considering Kokomo as a summer destination."
"Well then," Smush grumbled, looking rather put out, "what destinations are you considering?"
"Bungle Point," Mogey replied.
"Bungle Point? Out behind the dump??"
"Personally I see adjacency to the dump as a huge perk. And more importantly, Bungle Point is home to The Humble Bungle Jungle Buffet."
"You mean that old diner?"
"That's right, Mogey insisted. "Have you had the H.B.J.B.'s breakfast? It's insane!"
"I'm sure it is," Smush said slyly. "But I've got some bad news for you, Mogey. Bungle Point isn't an island. It's an isthmus."
"An isthmus, you say?"
"According to the top cartographers in the business."
"Hmm," Mogey considered. "In that case I have two new words."
"Isthmus living?"
"Isthmus. Living."
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