Story for Frankie 2

This appears to have been written in 2010 or earlier. It is another story written for my friend Frankie, though I don’t remember writing it. I tried to be clever this time by the looks of it.

For Frankie

Five hundred years ago, or possibly just last week, though it may even be in the future, Frankie, Steve, Jason and a frog called Fred, set off on a frightfully fun adventure which resulted in them getting lost; stuck in a place nobody could identify (which is usually what happens when one is lost). Fruit trees grew there, fruitfully, as they are wont to do. Fortuitously there was a cheery atmosphere about the place, so Steve spent his time reciting Shakespeare.

“Full fathom five thy father lies:

Of his bones are coral made;

Those are pearls that were his eyes:

Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange.

Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Hark! now I hear them, –

Ding, dong, bell.”

Flies flew around their heads, which makes one wonder if flies would be flies with any other name. Frantically, Jason tried to figure out where they were by climbing a funny looking fig tree. Frankie did not have time to warn him that this funny looking fig tree was not a fig tree at all, in fact, it looked nothing like one. Fred the frog had never seen such a big lion, which is not surprising considering he has never seen a normal sized lion either. Forty feet above their heads stood the shoulder of the great beast, with a fine mane of fabulous fur.

Running, running, running, ran the trio, with Fred the frog hidden in a random pocket. Right into a cave they ran, leaving the ridiculously large lion behind. Rustling sounds echoed around the cave, when, suddenly, light rapidly filled it, revealing that the rustling was Steve searching for matches in his pockets, only to find a torch instead. Royal riches filled the cave, always conveniently tucked just out of torchlight, so nobody actually spotted them. Ribbiting away, the frog relaxed in the splendour of safety, whilst the others rambled and ranted on about their narrow escape, rationalising the day’s events. Really the lion was a fake; fakely it was a fake too.

After a while our ambitious heroes got restless and decided to venture out of the cave, Steve was anxious, Jason apathetic, Frankie austere, and the frog amphibious. Austerity was not the actual trait Frankie was displaying, it just sounded good. As they travelled onwards, through dense forests with apples and aubergines, through swamps filled with adders and the occasional subtractor, they grew weary and tired. A lot of people in this situation would have simply realised it was a dream and woken up, but that is such a poor way to end a story.

Nearly nine days into their adventure supplies had ran out. Nappies had been used up, but nobody knows who used them. Naturally they ate the frog, grilled over a simple fire. Normally hints of cannibalism arise in the narrative, but not here. North of their position, only about two miles away, there was a Nandos, but they were not to know, so they soldiered on with only frog in their bellies and thankfully not in their throats. Not much happened in the next three days, except a random tribe which practically deified them and fed them heartily, even offered them virgin brides; Jason took three but lost them later on down the back of the settee.

Kings and a queen they became, but royalty did not suit them. Kakistocracy is the correct term for the government they formed. Kangaroo-like steeds were given to them as a gift in order to get rid of them, though we call these things horses normally and they look nothing like kangaroos. Kiwis don’t either, but you should know that already.

It might be obvious, but the letter K is not an easy one to play around with. Irrelevant as it may have been to point that out, it does distract from the fact that not much is going on in the story except a lot of horse riding. Imagine riding horses through dense forest for days on end and that is what our protagonists were going through. If you don’t find that boring then you don’t need to know what came next. In one of the fastest manoeuvres in history, the travelling troupe were flanked by an army of frogs, intent on revenge. Ignominiously they surrendered, but as the frogs were French they were beaten to it. Ideally only one side surrenders, but in this interesting situation both sides did and instead went back to their opposition’s base.

Every single one of the frogs never returned, they just wandered aimlessly looking for a non-existent base. Each of our heroes had everything in the frog camp to eat, enough to feed eight armies, including some of the frog guards to eat too. Ecstasy in belly form was experienced by all, after which they fell asleep. Except that it didn’t happen like that, this was exaggerated, there were no guards to be eaten and the food could only feed six-and-a-half armies at a push. Even so, they slumbered on and entered a dream world where crazy things happen constantly.

 

End. The.

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