It was a beautiful spring morning. Frog hopped up the dirt road to Toad’s house and knocked loudly on the door.
“Toad!” he called. “It’s me, your best friend, Frog! Let me in!”
“Go away,” a voice called back. “We’re not friends, you idiot.”
“Don’t be like that, Toad,” Frog implored. He pounded incessantly on the door until finally, with a groan, Toad opened it.
“Goddamn it, Frog,” Toad said. “You’re so fucking annoying.”
Frog pushed past Toad into the kitchen and started rifling through the cabinets. “Hey, do you have any Doritos or something?” he asked. “These Weight Watchers snacks look horrible.”
Toad sighed. “Can’t you buy your own snacks instead of mooching off mine?’ he asked Frog pointedly. “By the way, it’s ridiculous that you’re still living with your mom at this age, Frog. You’re not a tadpole anymore. Isn’t it about time you start looking for a new job?”
Frog, who had finally located a bag of barbecue chips, frowned. “Just because you’re bitter about your own inert career doesn’t mean you have the right to pick on me about mine. How’s that real estate venture doing, hmm?” He snapped his tongue into the chips bag disgustingly.
“You know damn well it’s gone underwater!” Toad blurted out before he could stop himself, snatching the chips away from Frog. That little dipshit always knew exactly how to push his buttons.
“Listen man, I’m sorry,” Frog apologized. “I was just feeling kinda lonely and thought I’d come over and see if you would tell me a story. You know, for old time’s sake.” He gazed pathetically at Toad with his sad, moist, amphibious eyes.
Toad sighed. “I can’t believe you’re still asking me about that. It’s been years,” he pointed out. “And I didn’t even make that story up, you know. Goodnight Moon is a children’s literature classic.”
“I don’t care,” said Frog. “I’ve been feeling really down lately and your voice is so soothing. Just one story? Please?”
It was true – Frog had really gotten caught in a downward spiral this year, Toad thought. First the lost button, then the breakup, and now getting laid off from the best factory job he’d ever landed and moving home. To be honest, Toad had been pretty worried Frog would start shooting up again.
“Fine,” snapped Toad, hiding his pity behind a sheer facade of annoyance. “But as soon as I’m done you better leave me alone.”
“Deal,” Frog agreed, because they both knew Toad didn’t really mean it. Frog took a seat in his favorite rocking chair as Toad told him the tale of the Ugly Duckling, which Frog still thinks is an original story inspired by their neighborhood.
-LH ’16
LOL