The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 480

Mogey and Smush were out riding llamas one steamy summer day when low and behold, a geyser erupted not twenty feet away from them. Never one to miss an opportunity to ride a geyser, Smush hopped from his llama, Claude, atop the rushing fountain of water.

As Smush landed at the very top of the geyser, the water level began to sink, smushed by Smush himself. Soon it had descended underground, leaving Smush sitting in the path, plugging the geyser hole with his generous hind parts.

"Did the geyser stop?" Mogey asked.

"Come have a look," Smush replied.

As Mogey bent down to look at the source of the waterspout, Smush shifted his weight, sending a huge spurt of pressurized water straight at his pal. The geyser hit Mogey square in the chest, flinging him more than a league into the air, and sending Claude the llama into a fit of laughter so hysterical he nearly suffocated on his own neck fur.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 479

For once, Mogey and Smush's team, The Gnashers, was not losing horribly in the annual Winter Wonderland Hockey Battle Royale. In fact, The Gnashers were all tied up with their arch-enemies, Team Stink, and the game headed for a shoot-out.

All three Team Stink shooters made their shots, but Smush and Gnashers defenseman Pete Buckingham matched them, leaving the fate of the game up to Mogey.

"Be careful, Mogey," Smush said, gesturing to Team Stink's goalkeeper, Enormo Puckocity, "their goalie is quite a phenom."

"Have no fear - I got this," Mogey replied, but on the inside he was quaking with both fear and hunger.

And then it was time. Mogey began skating down the ice as Enormo Puckocity seemed to grow to an even more colossal size inside the net. Just as Mogey was about to unleash a dazzling slapshot, he noticed a boy in the stands putting mustard onto the plumpest hot dog he had ever seen. The distraction was enough to throw off Mogey's shot, sailing the puck straight into Enormo Puckocity's glove, where the Team Stink goalie crushed it into a fine powder.

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 478

One morning, Mogey had put the tea kettle on and was buttering some crumpets for his breakfast. As his butter knife descended on the seventh or eighth crumpet, the round little pastry leapt into the air and began rolling across the table.

"Please don't put that butter on me!" the crumpet shrieked. "Other than jam, butter is the spread that we crumpets fear most!"

"Holy mackerel!" exclaimed Smush, who had been sitting nearby. "A talking crumpet!"

"Indeed," Mogey replied, carefully snatching the crumpet off the table top.

"Just think," Smush said dreamily, rising to his feet and pacing about the room, "we'll never have to work again. We'll travel the land charging top dollar for people to see this little fellow. We'll sell popcorn, and t-shirts, and lunch boxes, and--"

CHOMP!

"Mogey," Smush said without turning toward his pal, "please tell me you did not just eat that magical talking crumpet."

"But... I already ate the other ones," Mogey said, swallowing a large mouthful. "And I was still hungry!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 477

One blustery grey day, Mogey and Smush were hauling a wagon-load of firecrackers down to the flea market. Or, more accurately, their pack mule, Stephen was hauling the wagon as Mogey and Smush walked nearby, guiding him down the old dirt path.

"Say, Mogey," Stephen said after a while. "Would you mind loosening this bridle just a smidge? It's chafing my neck something fierce."

"Hey, I didn't know you could talk!" Mogey exclaimed.

"Yep," said Stephen.

"What else don't we know about you?" Smush asked.

"Well," Stephen replied, "my birthday is September the 5th, I'm a Welsh pony, not a pack mule, and - I know this is going to sound strange - I absolutely detest oats."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 476

"For the life of me I cannot solve this puzzle!" Mogey shouted, vigorously licking his lips in frustration. "It's impossible, I tell you. Impossible!"

"That's no puzzle," Smush replied, barely looking up from his home economics textbook. "You're looking at the funny pages from the Sunday paper."

"What?" Mogey retorted. "You don't find these puzzling?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 475

On a cold winter's night, Mogey and Smush were preparing to go carolling. Smush had gotten everything ready: a thermos of hot chocolate, a book of traditional Christmas songs, and a festive bullwhip to keep the reindeer in line. Now he was just waiting for Mogey to hurry up and get dressed.

Just when Smush was about to give up and start in on the cocoa himself, Mogey came barrelling downstairs dressed in his holiday finest.

"Say, Mogey, is that a scarf?" Smush asked.

"Isn't it lovely?" Mogey replied proudly. "I never thought of myself as much of a scarf fellow, but it's actually quite comfortable."

"You know scarves are meant to be worn around the neck, right?" Smush said.

"So I've heard," Mogey answered. "But I prefer wrapping it around my arm - that way I can wear my sleeveless t-shirts all year round!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 474

"How many dang steak tips are you going to eat?" Smush demanded as Mogey returned from the all-you-can-eat buffet with yet another tray piled with meat.

"As many as it takes," Mogey replied, tucking a napkin into his collar.

"As many as it takes to what?"

"You know something, Smush?" Mogey said around a mouthful of steak tip. "You just don't get me sometimes."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 473

Of all the things Mogey held dear in the world - and there were exactly six - the dearest of all was his pocketwatch. He claimed the watch had been passed down through many generations of Mogeys before him, through wars, famines, and an especially bad outbreak of goose flu. So protective was Mogey of the pocketwatch that even Smush, his best pal in the world, had never laid eyes on it.

One day, Mogey and Smush were playing on the monkeybars in the park when Mogey took a bit of a spill. While trying to get to the third bar (a feat he'd never before achieved), Mogey slipped and landed flat on his back.

"Stay with me, Smush," Mogey groaned, wincing in pain. "I think this is the end... I see a white light."

"Jeez Louise, Mogey," Smush sighed, "you just got the wind knocked out of you!"

"One final request, my friend!" Mogey pleaded, clutching Smush's hand. "Would you hand me my pocketwatch?"

"Good lord," Smush said in exasperation as he tried to extricate the watch from Mogey's jacket. He pulled the simple gold chain from Mogey's breast pocket, revealing the timepiece for the very first time. "I don't understand, Mogey," Smush declared. "This isn't a watch at all. It's just the top of a ketchup bottle with numbers and hands drawn on it in permanent marker."

"Aye," Mogey whispered weakly. "Is that not what a watch is?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 472

"I've done it!" Mogey cried, bursting through the front door and grabbing Smush in a bear hug. "I've finally gotten a job!"

"That's fantastic," Smush replied, casually trying to extricate himself from Mogey's grasp. "What, er, what will you be doing?"

"You know Mr. Whalings, the potter who lives up the way?" Mogey asked. "I'm going to be his assistant. Mainly I just have to turn his pottery wheel and tend to the kiln and such."

"Ah," said Smush. "Well it sounds like a job you'll be quite well suited for."

"And that's not even the best part!" Mogey explained. "He's paying me fourpence an hour, plus all the clay I can eat!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 471

"What'd you have for lunch today, Mogey?" Smush asked one afternoon as he saw Mogey brushing crumbs off his cumberbund.

"A BLT," Mogey replied with a hefty sigh.

"Oh," said Smush. "But none of the tomatoes seem to be missing. Did you get it down at the sangwich shop?"

"Tomatoes?" Mogey retorted disgustedly. "What would I want with tomatoes on a BLT?"

"Well, they would seem to be a crucial ingredient in a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sangwich," Smush asserted.

"BLT stands for Bacon, Limburger, and Taco meat," Mogey replied. "You know, Smush, sometimes you're so pudding-headed I worry sugarplums are going to start falling out of your ears. Bacon, lettuce, and tomato... ha!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 470

One afternoon in the midst of a howling gale, Smush stumbled outside in his rain slicker and galoshes to tend to the chickens (who went completely ape during storms). On his way back from the chicken coop, Smush encountered Mogey, who was wearing a tri-cornered hat and flying a kite.

"What in the world are you doing, Mogey?" Smush yelled above the sound of the wind.

"Lightning experiments!" Mogey replied.

"Don't you know someone already discovered electricity this way?" Smush cried.

"What's electricity?" Mogey asked. "I just like the nice tingly feeling I get every time lightning hits the kite!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 469

Mogey and Smush climbed the dusty stairs of St. Banana's Monastery on a cool day in late spring. The monastery sat beside the village square, and every week Mogey and Smush mounted the long spiral staircase in order to pay tribute to the Blurtle.

"Blurrrrtle," Smush called when they reached the belfry. "Are you there, Blurtle?"

With astonishing quickness, a rotund little man scurried out of the shadows to stand before them.

"Here you are," Smush said, presenting the Blurtle with a box of chocolate cake, "my tribute for the week. Give him your tribute now, Mogey."

"Behhh," Mogey replied, wiping crumbs from his mouth, "I'm through with this tribute business! I don't care what you blurt about me, Blurtle. Do your worst!"

Mogey and Smush weren't even out of the St. Banana's courtyard before they heard the Blurtle's voice booming out of the bell tower, so loud the entire village could hear.

"Hear ye, hear ye!" the Blurtle cried. "Mogey steals candy from the bulk candy aisle! And he has the biggest bottom in the entire county!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 468

One morning, Smush walked outside in his bathrobe to find Mogey digging a hole in the back garden. The hole was several feet deep already, but Mogey stood at the bottom, covered head to toe in dirt and tossing out shovelful after shovelful.

"Say Mogey," Smush said, sipping his cup of tea, "whatcha doing?"

"Digging a hole to China," Mogey replied without stopping.

"Oh," said Smush. "Well bring me back some szechuan beef, will you?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 467

Mogey and Smush were at the drugstore one day in search of a cure for their mutual pepper allergy. No matter how careful they were, anytime Mogey cooked his signature pepper-encrusted peppers both of them would end up sneezing their heads off.

After half an hour of searching the various pills and powders the drugstore had to offer with little success, Mogey and Smush were startled to see a rhinoceros stumble through the door, looking ornery as all get-out.

"Whoa, Mr. Rhinoceros," Mogey said cautiously as the rhino's horn swung dangerously close to his shoulder. "We mean you no harm. Please don't hurt us!"

"Are you crazy, Mogey?" the rhinoceros replied. "I'm no rhino! Don't you recognize me? It's Mr. Snelling."

"Mr. Snelling our Sunday School teacher?" Smush asked incredulously.

"The same," the rhinocerosy Mr. Snelling replied.

"Oh," Mogey said sheepishly. "Boy, that must be some head cold you have."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 466

One chilly winter's night, Mogey and Smush were regaling a big crowd at their local pub with the classic tale of Jeremiah Snausage and the stolen pie.

"...and then Jeremiah Snausage returned to Mrs. Brottington's bakery a third time!" Mogey was elaborating. "And he was after a lemon meringue, the final pie in Mrs. Brottington's Great Pie Trilogy. This time, however, Mrs. Brottington was waiting for him. As soon as Jeremiah Snausage peeped over her windowsill she came chasing after him with a bowling pin."

"A bowling pin?" asked one of the listeners on. "Don't you mean a rolling pin?"

"No sir," Mogey replied. "It was indeed a bowling pin, for Mrs. Brottington's bakery stood just next door to Mr. Brottington's bowling alley."

"Though you do have a point," Smush interjected. "The Brottington's were all about sharing resources between their two business ventures. Mrs. Brottington did in fact use a bowling pin to roll out her dough, and bowling alley grease gave her pie crust its signature tang."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 465

Mogey and Smush climbed to the tip top of Belly Flop Cliff and surveyed their surroundings. Forty feet directly down, the restless sea crashed into the base of the cliff, and as far as the nose could smell, the scent of squid guts pervaded the air.

Nervously adjusting their bathing suits, Mogey and Smush prepared themselves to take a leap of faith from the cliff as so many youths had before them. Just as they were about to jump, a diminutive winged man appeared beside them.

"Hold it just a minute there, fellows," the man said fluttering his wings to hover nearby.

"What's your name, Mr. Fairy?" Mogey asked.

"The name's Putter Okelokamugooly," the man replied. "And I'm no fairy!"

"Then what are you?" Smush queried.

"So I'm a fairy, alright?" Putter Okelokamugooly said, scratching his rather enormous belly. "I'm here to caution you about cliff diving. Does the term 'low tide' mean anything to you?"

"Not at all," Smush replied.

"Low what?" Mogey asked.

"Well, it's not safe to dive this time of day," Putter Okelokamugooly said with a sigh. "Unless, of course, you are willing to belly flop."

"Sheesh!" Mogey interjected. "Get lost, will you? We were planning to belly flop anyway."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 464

"Alright now, Mogey, open wide," said Dr. Jeremiah Twinkle, Dentist at Law.

Mogey opened his mouth and Dr. Twinkle took a close look inside.

"Hmm..." Dr. Twinkle said, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"What's the matter, Doc?" asked Smush, who was sitting to the side of the operating room. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm not quite sure," the doctor replied, lowering his voice to a whisper as he addressed Smush. "He doesn't have any teeth."

"It's true," Mogey stated. "I've lost every last tooth in saltwater taffy-related incidents."

"But in your patient interview you told me you eat steak at least twice a week!" Dr. Twinkle replied.

"I do," Mogey said. "I just sort of gum it down."

"I see," said Dr. Twinkle. "So if you haven't any teeth, then why are you here, exactly?"

"I was hoping you could help me grow some!" Mogey answered. "That's what you do, isn't it?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 463

One afternoon, Mogey came into the kitchen to find Smush staring at a heaping plate of flapjacks with a perplexed look on his face. Normally "perplexed" was the last thing in the world Smush felt when he encountered flapjacks, and so Mogey was concerned for his pal.

"Everything hunky dory there, Smush?" Mogey asked.

"No it isn't," Smush replied, his frown deepening. "I've cooked up these flapjacks for Sweetie Malloy, but I seem to have forgotten something. You see, Miss Malloy doesn't like syrup on her flapjacks, so I've sprinkled them with cinnamon and nutmeg, but I do believe they need one more spice."

"Good thing your old pal Mogey is here to save the day," Mogey said, clapping Smush on the back. "It's perfectly obvious what spice you forget to add."

"Yes?" Smush answered gratefully. "What is it?"

"Chocolate frosting of course!" Mogey replied. "A bit of frosting on each flapjack and Sweetie Malloy will fall madly in love with you."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 462

Mogey and Smush rode their Conestoga wagon across the land, over hill and dale, en route to what was supposedly a really fun polka festival. On occasion their route forced them to pass through a tunnel, but tunnels in those days were extremely dangerous. Collapses were common, and many of the older passages were held up only by chewing gum, duct tape, and cupcake wrappers.

Being the superstitious lad he was, Smush would reign the oxen in at every tunnel, coming to a halt just before the entrance. He would hop spryly from the wagon, spit on the ground, and then climb cheerfully back up into the driver's seat.

"I must ask you, Smush," Mogey said as his pal performed this ritual for the umpteenth time, "where did you learn such an odd tradition? Do you really think spitting will bring us luck?"

"I don't spit for luck," Smush replied. "I've just had this terrible taste in my mouth since we passed through Timbuktu. I think it might've been that anchovy and mustard turnover I ate."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 461

"Oy, Smush," Mogey called, catching his pal clambering out of the aboveground pool in the back yard. "I've got a great new game for us to play."

"Sensational!" Smush exclaimed as he extracted several small rock crabs from his unruly mane of hair. "What's the game?"

"It's called mumblety-peg," Mogey replied. "And apparently it's a hoot and a three quarters. You take this jack-knife, see? And you have to throw it into the ground as hard as you can, with the goal of landing it as close to your foot as possible."

"I see," Smush said, nodding sagely. "And what do you get, supposing you win the game?"

"Well," Mogey answered. "Supposing you throw the knife closer in than I do -- without stabbing your foot of course --."

"Of course," Smush reiterated.

"If you do that, then your prize is pretty special," Mogey continued. "You win the privilege of playing another game of mumblety-peg!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 460

One afternoon, Mogey flopped down onto the sofa, only to find himself lying on the softest, most comfortable thing he'd ever felt. After falling asleep six times, Mogey finally managed to extract the object from underneath his back.

"I see you like my new pillow," Smush said, striding into the room as Mogey examined the delightful cushion.

"Smush, this is literally the softest thing I've ever felt!" Mogey exclaimed.

"Well it ought to be," Smush replied with a grin. "It's made from the fur of five hundred baby chinchillas."

"No! Smush, you didn't?" Mogey whimpered.

"Don't worry, laddie," Smush said. "I didn't hurt the chinchillas. I shaved them."

"That must've taken ages," Mogey conjectured.

"Sure did," Smush replied. "But the shaving was nothing compared to getting the little buggers to leave. You should try shooing five hundred bald chinchillas out of your cellar sometime. It is not fun."

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 459

"Mogey, what are you doing?" Smush asked as he came upon his pal wearing a green bandanna and rummaging through the icebox.

"Today, I am not Mogey," Mogey replied. "I am Brock O'Lee, veggie-wielding action hero!"

"You are?" Smush said, rolling his eyes. "So what do you do, exactly?"

"I use vegetables to fight crime!" Mogey answered proudly. "For instance, I might take this tomato here, and throw it into the eyes of a bank-robbing villain."

"That's all well and good," Smush remarked, "but a tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable."

"Ah," Mogey replied, "right you are. Well then perhaps I would fashion a club out of this cucumber..."

"Sorry Mogey," Smush chimed in, "but cucumbers are fruits as well."

"Then maybe I'd use a pepper to--"

"Fruit!" Smush interrupted.

"Darn it..." Mogey muttered. "Isn't anything a vegetable? Or will Brock O'Lee have to fight crime weaponless?"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 458

"Psst!" Smush hissed at Mogey over his schoolbooks. "Cut out that doodling, Mogey! You're going to get us kicked out of class!"

"Why?" Mogey whispered back. "You're doing it too!"

"I'm not doodling," Smush retorted. "I'm taking notes."

"Notes?" Mogey asked. "What in the world are notes?"

"I write down whatever the teacher says so that I can read it again later," Smush answered.

"You actually listen to the teacher?" Mogey exclaimed. "Smush, that's highly dangerous. My nana told me that if I look into the eyes of a teacher, the teacher will imprison my soul in a jack-in-the-box and I'll have to hum 'Pop Goes the Weasel' for the rest of my days!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 457

"Hey Smush, check out my new pogo stick," Mogey said, proudly handing the shiny device to his pal. "But be careful with that, it's not a toy."

"I'm fairly sure that's exactly what it is," Smush replied, giving the pogo stick a few cursory jumps.

"Nuh-uh," Mogey insisted. "My livelihood depends on that pogo stick. It's my principal mode of transportation."

"You use this thing to get to work in the morning?" Smush exclaimed. "It must take ages!"

"Not at all," Mogey said. "I can cover two miles by pogo in just under three hours. That's almost two times faster than hopping to work on foot!"

The Abbreviated Adventures of Mogey & Smush Volume 456

"I'll take a half-and-half, barkeep!" Mogey said one afternoon as he and Smush had stepped into the local pub for some refreshments.

"And I'll have a cherry soda," Smush chimed in. The bartender grunted in response and soon plunked a full mug down before each of them.

Mogey took a large gulp, made a horrible face, and sprayed a mouthful of liquid onto the mirror behind the bar.

"Ugh! " Mogey groaned. "What is this?"

"It's half-and-half, just like you ask for!" the dismayed bartender replied. "Half dark beer and half light!"

"Well it's horrible," Mogey said. "I was referring to the dairy version of a half-and-half. Duh."

The frustrated bartender poured Mogey a frosty new mug and set it in front of him. Once again Mogey took a large gulp, and once again he sprayed it out of his mouth, all over a nearby couple this time.

"This is awful too!" Mogey shrieked, wiping his tongue off with a napkin.

"But I made you a dairy half-and-half," the bartender insisted. "Half milk and half cream."

"What a dreadful sounding combination," Mogey replied. "Where I come from, a half-and-half is half cream, and the other half is cream as well."