The prune trees that year were heavy with fruit, so Mogey and Smush had a large crop that needed hauling into town. This was good in the sense that the pals depended greatly on prune revenue, but in the time and place where Mogey and Smush lived, the only way they could transport goods was to drag them on a heavy sledge.
Mogey and Smush gazed at the ripped-out catalogue page posted to their wall (which featured the deluxe nut mill they were saving up their prune money to buy), took a swig of powerade, and grabbed the sledge handles.
No more than a quarter of the way into town, Mogey and Smush stopped to catch their wind. Their hats were soaked in sweat. Their socks were soaked in sweat. And their shirts? Soaked in prune juice and also sweat.
It was in this compromised condition that they encountered their neighbor, Sir Isaac Graham Bell, who cruised past them in a souped-up Chevrolet El Camino, lime green.
"Hauling prunes, boys?" Sir Isaac asked, stopping in a cloud of dust.
"You know we are, Sir Isaac," Mogey replied with an air of great annoyance.
"Say, what is that thing?" Smush added.
"The elco?" Sir Isaac Graham Bell said, slapping the lime green door. "I call her La Belleza Verde."
"No I mean the round black thing on the bottom," Smush clarified.
"The wheels?"
"Wee-uhls." Smush turned the word over in his mouth. "I like 'em. Think we could slap a few of those on a prune sledge?"
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