"A query, if I may," Mogey submitted as the pals strode through a section of the woodland known as Fungus Alley. "Why are they called toadstools?"
"How d'you mean?" Smush replied.
"Well," Mogey asked, gesturing to the bed of mushrooms that surrounded them, "I've never seen a toad sit on one."
"I knew it!" declared Smush. "I knew those sunglasses weren't to 'help you bear the blinding white light of the scripture.' You've been napping during church!"
"Nuh uh," Mogey blustered. "I-- it's-- it's the reflection of the candlelight off the vicar's bald head as well. It gives me headaches something awf... alright how could you tell?"
"Because Brother Squoot from the Order of Wart & Slime - that's the all-toad monastery, you know - has been sitting in on services all this month. And what does he sit upon? Nothing more or less than a toadstool."
"I don't believe it," Mogey insisted.
"It's true," croaked a voice nearly beneath their feet. The pals looked down to observe a spadefoot toad perched upon a red-capped toadstool.
"Brother Squoot?" they exclaimed.
"Nay," the toad replied. "Tis I, Brother Buns, but I too am a member of the Order of Wart & Slime. And I must say, I know you young pipsqueaks like to sit on all manner of contraptions these days: your bean bag chairs and your pickup truck liftgates. Your skateboards and your stacks of Texas toast. Call me old-fashioned, but a toadstool is where my rear end belongs."
Mogey and Smush simply blinked at him.
"Welp," said Brother Buns, "I'd better get back to the monastery. The next batch of hallucinogenic tea isn't going to brew itself."
And with that, Brother Buns hopped away.
"I think," opined Mogey, "that was the clearest answer I've ever received to a question I posed in Fungus Alley."
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