This is a filler post due to having to work a 16 hour day on Tuesday and this last weekend being caught up with a lot of nonsense. T’kk’tck will return next week. Five years ago I wrote this on our old blog. It is really hard to believe it’s been five years.
Stockings was hungry. Very very hungry. It had been almost three weeks since he left the village on his quest for undead fingerbones with which to win himself a bride. He had a few already in the lone sock tied to the shoulder of his leather tunic; but he thought that maybe they were simply rabbit toe bones. He wasn’t sure. And they certainly weren’t edible.
Nothing in this swamp was. He’d tried making soup from the water and the weeds. He’d tried making pie from the fungus and the reeds. Nothing worked and his belly stayed full of nothing. He had tried shooting arrows at the birds that fluttered above him giggling at his cooking, all that had done was put arrows in trees. And he had fallen on his head three or four times getting those arrows back from the trees.
“RRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr” A frog sung loud frog sounds to attract a froggy bride. If only it was that easy for goblins. Stockings was pretty sure he could sing at least as well as the frog. And since he had been listening to the frog for almost three hours now he had a lot of evidence to go by.
Suddenly, insight poured into his goblin brain like a ray of very unwelcome sunlight. Frogs were food sometimes! He snatched up his bow and jumped off the ground.
“Sorry frogjob but food is food and eating isn’t rude!” He shouted, to give fair warning.
“RRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrRRRRrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRR” The frog sung back.
Stockings started making his way through the mud and goop towards the frog’s voice. Under tall moss covered tree roots, over suspiciously scaled logs, around buzzing bee filled hollow stumps. Foot by foot, inch by inch, muddy footprint by muddy footprint he got closer and closer to the sound.
Suddenly there it was; sitting on a lily pad in the middle of a small swamp pond, illuminated by a ray of light through a small gap in the thick overhead tree branches; was the Frog.
“RRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRR” The Frog kept singing.
“Oh, my! Oh, Yay! Belly happy thoughts think!” Stocking whispered. He carefully crawled up next to a nearby tree for a better view.
“RRRRRrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrRRRRRRR” The Frog didn’t seem to see Stockings.
Stockings quietly, slowly pulled out a small bent arrow from his sock. He fit it to his bow. Hands shaking because he was so excited he pulled the bow back taking careful careful aim.
“RRRRRrrrrRRRRRrrrRRRRrrrRRRRRRRRRRRR” The Frog triumphantly sang.
“TWWWANG!” Went the bow!
“HOP!” Went the Frog.
“SWISH!” went the arrow into the lillypad and into the water.
“RRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRR!” Sang the Frog.
“gggggggggggggGGGGGGGGGGGGGGggggggg!” Sang his Froggybride who had just then hopped up nearby.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!” Screamed Stockings and his stomach. He plopped down in despair.
Surprised that his plopping made so much noise on the soft moss that he had plopped on he tried it again.
There was no sound.
He pounced up looking around for the source of the PLOP. And there… in the middle of the froggy pond was his arrow. And on his arrow was a fish. A lovely lovely fish. A yummy yummy fish.
“THANKS MR. FROG!” Stockings exclaimed!
“RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRR” “GGGGGGGGGggggggGGGGGG” The Frogs sang back.
Stockings fell asleep that night happily staring at the stars and thankful for frogs that sang.