A Bald Frog with a Wig

Once there was a little bald frog. And it was silly because all frogs are bald. But there was this one peculiar frog, named Fred, who thought so otherwise.

It all came to Fred in a dream one cold starless night as he croaked his way to sleep. In his dream, he saw his great ancestors all with shiny long hair flowing from their head all the way back to their hind legs. Fred saw them jumped gracefully from lilies towards another lily. The ends of their hair bounced along and altered the stillness of the pond. Fred has never seen such a majestic sight his entire frog life. That’s it! Frogs were really meant to have hair! Fred thought. Suddenly, an adult frog, blessed with blonde hair, noticed the amused little Fred lurking behind the tall grass and hopped to him.

“What seems to be amusing, little frog?” The adult frog with a husky voice asked him.

“Your hair, sir. Oh it’s beautiful! I want to have such lovely hair, too,” answered Fred.

“You can have hair, little frog. Only if you believe.”

With that, the adult frog hopped away and joined his other frog friends with ridiculously gorgeous hair.

Fred woke up that morning feeling determined to grow his hair. He asked his mum to buy some aloe vera on her way to the market so he can rub it on his head. But it didn’t work.

Fred hopped on a small rock and sat on it for days, thinking maybe that is how they grow hair. But it didn’t work.

Fred, with all his optimism and hope sucked away from him, decided to ask help from an evil warlock toad who lived in a nearby swamp.

Fred traveled three days and three nights to reach his destination. He stored as many insects and worms as he could as payments for the answer he is seeking.

“How brave of you to step on your enemy’s lands…” a deep voice croaked.

“I’m desperate. I need to know how I can grow my hair.” asked Fred, quite frightened of how the warlock toad looked; rough, dry, and bumpy.

“Go away!” The warlock toad croaked so loud some of his warts left his body

“But I need answers. And I brought you a week’s supply of food!” Fred insisted.

“I cannot help you,” the toad, who can’t really jump, slowly hopped away.

“But..but I had a vision,” exclaimed Fred. “I saw my ancestors with great flowing hair sagging behind their hind legs!”

The warlocks dark expression lightened, and his bulgy eyes widened further than its normal size.

“A vision?” he squeaked.


“Well let me tell you, little one. What you saw wasn’t your ancestors.” The toad turned around and faced him.

“What do you mean?” asked Fred.

“Long, long time ago..frogs and toads all looked alike.”

“What?” Fred interrupted.

“Let me finish!” the warlock belted. “Yes, your ancestors and my ancestors looked exactly alike. Except. One. Thing.”

“My ancestors have hairs..” whispered Fred.

“No,” the toad said. “Mine did. We all used to have strands of hairs growing on top of our head! And we were much more beautiful than your kind. Your ancestors envied us so much that it gradually turned to hate. And with hate comes anger. And anger produces war.” The toad stopped, trying to remember the bitterness of the memory.

“Then what happened?” Fred asked cautiously.

“Your ancestors lost. But they promised vengeance. The war left a lot of us homeless..and orphans. But our growing hair kept us strong. And then one night, while we were joyously hopping around the lilies, a bright light appeared in the midst of us. All who looked at the light suddenly vanished. And the thing was that, everyone looked. And everyone vanished. The next morning, my ancestor’s pond was taken over by your ancestors. They tried to fight back with their hair, but it wasn’t there anymore. They tried to jump as far as they could, but all they can do is hop like a bunny. And their slimy green features were replaced by this earthy skin. They were bewitched. And from that generation till now, we have been known as toads. We were once the most envied creatures in the forest, but now, we’ve been made as a laughing stock. All because of your ancestors!” the toad bellowed.

Realizing that he has no chance of growing his hair, Fred jumped away from the swamp and on towards his home. He didn’t know how cruel his ancestors were. Only until now.

“Yes! Run away, little one! Run away and tell your children, and your children’s children the tale of how you ruined our lives forever!” the toad’s menacing voice was only an echo as Fred reached their land’s border.

Fred was welcomed by his mother. He saw the aloe veras his mother brought for him. But he threw it all away on the pond. He didn’t eat for days. He only stared at the bright light of the moon in the evening, and the sun’s blinding rays in the morning.

On the third day after his return, Fred fled from his home once again. This time, to fulfill his desire with his own answer.

Fred went to the city and bought a wig.

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