“You might want to be sitting down for this, but I have some news. Toad is a mushroom—not a toad.” “What the hell?” “Don’t tell me you never knew this. He looks exactly like a mushroom.” Theo taps the half-empty beer bottle against his thigh, running a hand through his slightly grown-out sandy hair. “I always thought he was a weird-ass-looking toad. Why is his name Toad, then?” “Because a toadstool is a type of mushroom,” I say, unable to hold back my laughter.
