One afternoon, Mogey headed down to a local pub called The Ploughman to meet his best pal Smush. After a brief pause at the doorway to take in the pub's sign, which featured a centaur-like creature with the upper body of a man and the lower body of a plough, Mogey entered the cozy environs.
"Watcha eating?" he asked Smush, sliding into a richly-upholstered booth.
"Welsh rarebit," Smush replied.
"Wot?" Mogey demanded, looking more disgusted than a Nebraska field mouse sitting down to the same dinner for the 100th night in a row ("corn again??")
"Welsh rarebit," Smush repeated with a chuckle. "Don't worry, there's no rabbit in it. It's a sort of British fondue."
"It wasn't the 'rarebit' part that concerned me!" Mogey exclaimed. "I'm shocked and dismayed that you'd let those grape juice-making dorks anywhere near your cheese!"
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