There was no more avoiding the issue. It was time to face facts. Mogey's head had become as bald as a ripe plum.
Smush knew that his pal had been going through a sensitive patch ever since that lone remaining hair had fallen out during its daily brushing, so he tried to keep his jokes to a minimum and help Mogey through.
One day, after a week of sullenness, Mogey came up from the cellar (where he had taken to sleeping), as chipper as Smush had ever seen him. There was a hop in his step, a swagger in his gate, and even a jaunty tilt to the way his 9 millimeter semi-automatic pistol was stuffed into the back of his jeans. It didn't take Smush long to find out why.
"Good morning, good Smush," Mogey said cheerily. "Notice anything different about me?"
Smush looked up from his breakfast and almost choked to death on his honey bunches of honey nut honey.
"What is that on your head?" he asked when he had finished coughing. Perched atop Mogey's hairless noggin was a piece of hard, shiny plastic molded into the shape of hair.
"A wig," Mogey replied.
"Where in the heck did you get it?" Smush demanded, barely containing his laughter.
"I scalped a mannequin down at the department store," Mogey said proudly. "Doesn't it look top notch?"
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