"Hnnnnghhh!" Mogey gasped, sprinting through the front door like a taxidermist who just saw his stuffed porcupine's toe wiggle, "Smush... hnnnghhh... take... arghhhh... cover!"
"What is it, Mogey?" Smush cried, rushing to his pal's side. "Don't tell me you stole Big Mo Tercicle's last strawberry frosted doughnut again?"
"No! Well--yes, of course I did, but no that's not the most pressing issue at the moment. We've got vampires!"
"Vampires?"
"Vampires," Mogey confirmed. "They're everywhere: Acting spooky, looking pale, eating worms, clucking ominously."
"I believe you're thinking of chickens," Smush said.
"Ah, yes," Mogey replied, catching his breath at last. "Chickens is the word I was searching for."
"My God," said Smush. "It's worse than I thought! You bar the door and I'll grab the 12-gauge. They're after our lifetime supply of liquorice whips!"
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