The evil science teacher was grinning down his scalpel at the hapless amphibian. Fred hopped to the back of his cage hoping that the plastic leaves on the fake plants in the back of his cage would help hide him. Suddenly, over the sound of the maniac science teacher’s evil cackling there came a new sound.
“Oh yea! Dissection! Oh yea! The frog will die! Oh yea! It’s my birthday!” Fred parted the plastic leaves in front of his face and looked out into the darkened classroom. Jamison Jeffery Jenkins McMervey was standing on the top of his desk chair doing a rather strange and pointless dance while he yelled out his little song. His glasses were slipping off his nose and his blond hair flopped around on his head like a fish flops around when it is taken out of water. To add to the freakish scene, Mr. Smapps’ face had lost its evil look and replaced it with one of complete and utter stupefaction. If it had not been for his very dire situation, Fred would have started snickering at the disgusting little boy, but as it was, this did not seem like a good time to him to start laughing. He was right for instantly the teacher snapped his mouth back shut and a sneer of disgust painted itself on his sharp features.
“Mr. McMervey, will you please stop that unnecessary gyrating?” the teacher thundered at the student. Jamison Jeffery Jenkins McMervey immediately dropped into his chair with a thud. “Thank you. As I was just about to state, we will be using the FROG for our dissection specimen, but…. we will not be performing the operation until after you have all trooped off to your fat free, wax-like meal in the school cafeteria.” All of the students let out a sigh of relief, except for Jamison McMervey, he let out a groan and a wail,
“But I wanna cut apart the frog.” Fred hopped to the glass side of his cage and started staring at the boy, staring as he never had before. The little boy didn’t notice the amphibian and kept on with his list of laments,
“The cafeteria food is hard!” Fred stared harder. “The cafeteria floor is harrrrrd! I don’t even like spaghetti birrrbt!” Fred wasn’t the only person staring at the complaining little boy now. Every eye in the room had turned to Jamison Jeffery Jenkins McMervey, because now something very strange was happening. The ends of his sentences were starting to sound like ribbits and now his skin was taking on a slight green hew. Frankie Falkhorn, who sat in the seat next to Jamison, let out a gasp of horror for there, growing on the end of the boy’s nose was a big, frog like, disgusting looking wart.
“He’s turning into a….a…. a FROG!” he yelled and everyone knew it was true! Fred grinned a little froggy smile to himself and turned up the power of his stare on full blast. Mr. Smapps had long since forgotten the children of his class and had taken refuge under his desk with his scalpel clutched to his heart. The classroom was in complete bedlam. As soon as the children had realized that Jamison Jeffery Jenkins McMervey was indeed turning into a frog, they began running about the room, screaming at the top of their very healthy lungs, but of course no one had the sense to open the door and escape into the hall.
Now you’d think that the small frog-boy standing on his desk shouting the shortcomings of the school cafeteria to the world would have noticed the hullabaloo in the room around him, but oh no! He was, in fact a very selfish little pig, or frog whatever you want to call him, and he wasn’t going to notice anything until he was done with his speech against the evils of cafeteria food. This was his original plan until he noticed that the room around him was starting to get bigger, and his skin was starting to feel colder, and the words coming out of his mouth were no longer actual words but a series of whistles and croaks.
“What’s happening to me?” He cried, but it actually sounded something like, “RIBBIT, RIBBIT CROAK SQUEEK?”
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiwwwwwwwwwwwww! It’s a FROG!” Jamison Jeffery Jenkins McMervey looked up at the now giant sized figure of one of his school mates and he knew.
“I’ve turned into a FROG!” or “RIBBIT, SQUEEK, SQUEEK, RIBBET!” he cried. In his cage, Fred stopped his staring and rubbed his hands together.
“Now, where is that evil science teacher?” He wondered, but he had no time to look for the dissecting maniac, for right at that moment a figure dressed in purple velvet exercise pants and pink bunny slippers burst through the door. Agatha Agnes McFearson McMervey’s face was red all the way up to the green sponge rollers in her hair and her lip-sticked mouth was poised and ready for action. The sound that came out of it made everyone freeze exactly were they were and turn their bugged out eyes to meet hers.
“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” and the glass sides of Fred’s cage shattered.