In a great green meadow, near a clear blue pond, there was a large toadstool.
It looked ordinary enough to anyone who did not look closely, but it was no ordinary toadstool.
On one side of the toadstool, there was a small red door. The door led inside to a tiny house, with a tiny sofa in the tiny living room. There was also a tiny kitchen with an itty-bitty refrigerator and a little stove.
Standing at the little stove was Mama Frog. She was cooking up a pot of delicious oatmeal.
Suddenly, she flapped her long green arms wildly and exclaimed “BYAAAAH!”
Her left hand hit the pot of oatmeal and it splattered over the cabinets and floor. A large glob of hot oatmeal hit Mama Frog between the eyes and she screamed in pain.
Papa Frog heard her from the bathroom, where he had planned on shaving, but ended up doing something entirely different. He ran into the kitchen and hit Mama Frog square on the forehead with the Frogtoria’s Secret catalog he had in his hand. Mama Frog stopped screaming and delivered a quick uppercut to Papa Frog’s chin. The force of the blow drove her backwards, where she hit her head on the cabinets and knocked herself unconscious. Papa Frog, meanwhile, staggered backwards and slumped against the refrigerator with a loud WHUMP.
Just then, a great commotion could be heard from upstairs.
CLUMP, CLUMP, CLUMP…tiny feet rushed down the steps.
A small man ran into the kitchen, surveying the damage. “Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed. “What the fuck are these frogs doing in my house?”