One afternoon, Mogey and Smush had one of their rip-roarin'-est, name-calling-est, eye-poking-est arguments of all time. The altercation had begun when Smush beat Mogey in a hard fought game of Pretty Pretty Princess, after which Mogey had called Smush a cheat and belittled his collection of Snapple caps. It had turned ugly then, because Smush, normally so even-tempered, would not have the good name of his Snapple cap collection dragged through the mud.
They had both stormed off to their respective bedchambers and hadn't seen each other for three whole days, when they encountered one another in the parlor.
"Good day, Mogey," Smush ventured in a stilted voice, glancing up from his newspaper.
"Good day to you as well, Smush," Mogey replied. "How are you this fine afternoon?"
"Just peachy," Smush said, to which Mogey muttered something in return. "What was that?" Smush demanded.
"I said, 'you wish,'" Mogey repeated haughtily, knowing in his heart that his next few words would undoubtedly lead to fisticuffs. "'Peachy?' Ha! More like nectarine-y. I saw you try to grow a moustache last year and your face stayed smoother than the beats of Big Tumbo Rasta-man, the childlike reggae sensation."
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