another day in Anuraphagia

a frog sat at the edge of the little stone-edged pool by the entrance to the Castle. this frog was HUGE. like, unnaturally so. like, size of a guinea pig. sitting motionless. frogs have these peculiar bulging eyeballs that don’t seem to be looking in any direction — what’s probably the case, and this could be speculatively verified with minimal research hours, is that those freaky goatlike horizontal pupils of theirs allow them to see the nigh entire horizon, in almost any direction along the panorama of their little stationary froggy vistas.

this big freak bullfrog launched suddenly into the water upon its prey — belly flopping amongst the lilypads and duckweed, catching the attention of a travelling passerby. my stars, this person thought, what a frighteningly enormous frog, and goodness, wouldya lookit that, it’s just caught itself a meal… hm, what’s that it’s eating. is that a dragonfly… wait — is that —

zoom in to the big surreal bobbing giant frog head, and oh, gross! what — is that …. is that FEET? that’s… that’s fucking frog feet, that giant frog is eating another smaller frog! would you think? i mean — lookit! holy — !

the other person travelling alongside was thoroughly repulsed and wandered off to look at a rickety display of t-shirts and postcards at the edge of the flat gravelly road.

but the engrossed also grossed-out traveller marvelled at this spectacle, and the bullfrog floated quietly, gulping occasionally which caused the little legs to quiver and disappear bit by bit in little fits. the smaller frog inside the huge frog must have been carrying on quite a struggling besmothered calamity in there because the behemoth lunchbreak frog actually reached up from beneath the duckweed with both arms and grabbed a little foot in each of its hands in order to steady the situation. toes twitched; the bullfrog kept its cool. eventually the sad and angry feet vanished mysteriously down the fat voracious gullet.

meanwhile, two other average-sized frogs sat huddled together in abject terror amongst some rocks at the opposite edge of the pool, taking in their dual probably-not-quite 360-degree tiny imax Terrors of Nature reality show, one frog’s arm, this is totally true, was draped over the back of its companion, one might imagine clutching fearfully.

the traveller was fascinated yet horrified. endowed with strong feelings of empathy and a painfully vivid imagination, disturbing notions quickly accumulated as to the little frog’s terrible terrible death experience. a horror beyond human horrors. the sudden shock of clamping darkness and being ripped so violently from an everyday ho-hum meditative moment at home under the peaceful setting sun. the indescribable shift in consciousness. then the subsequent slow suffocation, the slick completeness of a disgusting peristaltic throaty grip and nothing to look forward to but churning acid stomach, or whatever the science of frog digestion. nightmare images rushed forth in the traveller’s mind of a world in which animals and humans lived solely to consume those smaller versions of themselves in order to grow indefinitely large, i mean — oh my god, can you IMAGINE?? some guy with a giant fucking scary head and a mouth like a halfa meter in diameter just plowing down upon you unexpectedly and slowly sucking you into his esophagus?? your face trapped in a giant ribcage, this monstrous human appetite lifting your torso and flailing legs to the heavens for a gravity-assist toward some gruesome stench-filled melting hideous demise!?? really, mere words cannot do this hellish vision justice. and then — and then who’s to say there wouldn’t be another even bigger than —

the castle doors opened and the queen came delicately out across the moat to the roadway to find the two travellers lingering by the royal frog pool.

isn’t it lovely? the king made it himself. there’s an enormous frog in there, even bigger than that fat one you see beside the lily. it’s just remarkable! but you know, said the queen, no longer boasting, there used to be dozens of frogs in the royal frog pool, so many, he collected them. not as big as those. but somehow they’ve all gone. the king so enjoyed them when he was still with us, before he…. well, i can’t imagine what’s become of them, of any of them.

the weary traveller straightened and sighed heavily.