Raining Frogs Option Bc2: Stall for the Frogs
It’s time to see if the frogs can finish off the last robber. Let’s see if you can stall long enough!
Raining Frogs Option Bc2: Stall for the Frogs
The shotgun might not harm him and, if it doesn’t, all you’ll do is anger him further while he’s got a gun of his own. And you know his bullets will hurt you. Erring on the side of caution seem like the smarter way to go.
The creature’s eyes narrow and he sneers. It’s an ugly expression beyond just the contempt, with teeth the shade of moss and jagged edges that remind you of a saw blade.
“Not fast enough,” he mocks in a guttural voice.
“Perhaps,” you say with a shrug and give a scornful smile back.
He backs away by a step.
“Hold right there,” you say. Somehow you sound more confident than you feel but the confidence must sound convincing because he stops moving.
You hold a relieved sigh. He almost knocked over the tower of frogs fast growing behind him.
The creature leers but there’s uncertainty in the expression. You’re at a standstill and you both know it.
You kick several frogs at him.
He flinches. Boom! The gun in his hand rocks back, almost hitting his face.
You flinch as the shot whistles past your head and chunks of brick fly off the corner of the bank where the shot slams into it. They spatter the ground, mixing with the solid splattering of frogs. There’s red and yellow and green splotches all over every area of exposed skin on you.
Spooked from the gunshot, the creature spins to run and comes face to face with a tower of frogs.
You could swear the frogs grin in glee as they jump onto his face and work their way into his hood.
He shrieks like his companions and disappears in a flood of frogs. You watch, horrified and fascinated by the odd sight.
And then the last robber’s gone. Not eaten, not burned by poisonous frogs, just gone.
There’s a deafening quality to the ribbits of all the frogs and then, poof, they disappear too. You glance around to find everything except the money the robbers tried to get away with just gone.
Sunlight hits the street like it’s smiling on a perfect, uninterrupted summer day. Slime drips from your face, so the frogs were not a figment of your imagination.
And there are bags of money laying on the street.
You gather it all, making several trips, to return it to the bank.
“So what happened?” The sheriff asks later, eyeing your colorful skin.
You tell him. Straight truth.
He scowls and moves on to the tellers.
Their stories aren’t any more convincing, so you come up with a story about four robbers that ran away and he sketches out wanted posters for four very ugly fugitives.
Every time you see those posters you giggle in hysteria. There’s just something crazy funny about it.
You become known as the crazy person who owns the land just outside of town, but just like the town drunk, the people accept you and you continue to giggle every time you see a wanted poster.
Perhaps it was all the frog slime that scrabbled your brain. You don’t know and don’t really care. Life’s just more fun this way.
The End
Yay! You defeated the robbers! And got your parcel of land although you might be a little addled in the brain. =)
Blessings,
Jennifer
