Times were desperate. Mogey and Smush were wildly in hock to the cheesemongers, and neither of them had any money coming in. All the work in Mogey's profession - food taster, but only for the delicious foods - had dried up, and Smush was a longtime conscientious objector to not lounging around all day.
And so it was that the pals found themselves walking down the high street, looking for a grand larceny to commit. They'd discussed committing a regular old larceny, but to Mogey and Smush's way of thinking, if you're going to commit a larceny, you might as well make it grand.
"I've got it!" Smush announced. "We'll rob Pop Sickle's. In this kind of sweltering weather, he's got a line out the door at all times. The place must be a gold mine!"
"Plus Pop is the jolliest fellow out there," Mogey agreed. "He'll never put up a fight."
Though the sun was beating down, Mogey and Smush donned their hoods and pulled masks over their faces. Mogey had Spiderman. Smush had a happy kitty.
"This is a stickup!" Smush shouted as they entered Pop Sickle's.
"Nobody move!" Mogey added. "Don't be a hero! We're here for Pop Sickle's money, not yours."
"Pop Sickle's money is my money," said Pop Sickle from behind the counter. "What's this all about, Mogey and Smush?"
"Grand larcen--" Mogey began.
"How'd you know it was us?" Smush interrupted.
"You wore these exact same outfits when you came trick-or-treating here last halloween," Pop answered. "I thought you were a little old to trick-or-treat, but hey - I've thought that for the last twenty years. Now I suggest you boys go back the way you came."
"Or what?" said Mogey.
"Have you ever read the full name of my shop?" Pop asked, pointing above his own head.
Mogey and Smush both fell for it. They looked up and read: Pop Sicke's Ice Lollies and Blade Sharpening. By the time they looked down, Pop Sickle had leapt over the counter and was brandishing a machete in one hand and a meat cleaver in the other. Mogey and Smush had never realized how large a man Pop Sickle was.
"This," said Pop, "is far from a grand larceny. A shabby larceny, at best. I'd go so far as to call it a second-rate larceny."
Smush gasped.
"Aren't those your customers' blades?" Mogey inquired.
"Yes, but I'm entitled to use them to defend the shop from invasions, attacks, and larcenies grand or otherwise," Pop replied. "It's in the terms and conditions."
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