"How's the rocket doing?" Mogey asked.
"Excellent," Smush replied, twirling the moustache he'd either grown or glued to his face (no one is quite sure which) especially for this endeavor. "It's warming up on the launch pad. Say, you need to get your spacesuit on - we launch in half an hour."
"My space suit is on," said Mogey. He gestured grandly to the baggy leisure suit that ensconced his butternut squash-esque physique. "It's got plenty of space to fill up on extraterrestrial snacks."
Smush looked at his pal like an elderly professor staring at a child bodybuilder who mistakenly listed him as his emergency contact. "You need to wear your real space suit!" he insisted. "There's literally no oxygen up there!"
Mogey would not be deterred. "I believe I heard some talk of green cheese...?" he inquired, displaying once again the additional volume his leisure suit afforded. "These crackers aren't going to eat themselves, and I'm darn sure not eating them without some moon fondue."
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