It’s time for an Adventure re-run! This story posted originally in 2016, if you’re interested in how things turned out the first go around.
Otherwise, let’s jump right in =)
Today’s the day you’ve been working toward for months. Although the sky hangs overcast and the morning holds a gloomy gray in the air, you walk down the boardwalk with your shoulders back and your head high because, in your hand, you’re holding your final payment from the Sheriff.
You caught your last bounty that morning. For months you’ve tracked down criminals, with one goal in mind, to buy the chunk of land for sale on the far side of town. On it you plan to build your new home and work a small field and produce just enough to trade for anything else you might ever need. You never have to track down another person or haul them in for payment. No more wandering for you.
The money clinks softly in your pocket and you close you fingers around the coins to keep them from making any more sound. No need to announce your good fortune.
The bank’s just opened when you arrive and you step through the door with a barely controlled smile.
The door’s swinging shut when you hear it. SPLAT.
You pause mid-step. With the door now closed, the sound’s softer, but you still hear the repeated. Splat, splatsplat, splat, splatsplatsplat…
You back step and crack the door open with a shoulder blade. And SPLAT, against your face.
You give an ‘ugh’ and quickly step forward again to let the door close.
“Did you know,” you announce to the three bank tellers on the far side of the room, “that it’s raining frogs.”
They look up and their identical looks of skepticism could make them triplets.
“Just saying,” you shrug and approach the right hand teller. You pull the Sheriff’s payment from your pocket as you move and say, “Deposit for my account,” like raining frogs isn’t anything unusual.
The woman doesn’t look down at the coins you place on the counter. She points, “You’ve got a bit of, um, slime, on your face.”
“Oh,” you wipe your cheek with a sleeve and, sure enough, the fabric comes away with yellow slime. “Like I said,” you smile, “frogs.”
She swallows. “Really?”
You nod, with your smile in place, and point at the coins for deposit. Nothing could ruin this day.
The door opens and, with it, you hear the almost solid splatsplatsplatsplat of a deluge of frogs. When you glance at the newcomers, several small, colorful amphibians hop their way in around the people’s feet.
You’re still looking at the energetic frogs when there’s the heavy Cha-chack of a shotgun being charged.
Your gut knots and you raise your eyes from the floor to find four people, each holding a shotgun. Two of them approach the counter and sling empty potato sacks at the tellers.
“Fill ‘em up,” one says.
The Sheriff’s last payment still sits, gleaming, on the counter between you and the third teller.
A frog lets out a ribbbbet.
“Frogs,” you mutter.
“What’s that?” one of the robbers point his gun at you.
“Frogs,” you nod toward a green and red, glossy backed critter hopping toward his foot. “That one’s probably poisonous.”
He grumbles and kicks the frog away. It splats, unharmed, against the wall, before ribbeting to the ground where it starts hopping toward the man again.
The little amphibian seems determined to reach the robber and he’s not the only one hopping determinedly toward one of them.
Frogs chasing bank robbers. Interesting.
You eye the robbers. They’re all relatively short, wearing hoods and heavy clothing that you mistook before as rain gear. Now you see it just serves to make them nondescript but doesn’t actually protect them from rain. Splotches of color, like someone threw paint blobs at them, cover their heads and shoulders. The man’s boot, where he kicked the frog, boasts a red and green smudge.
Perhaps the clothing protects them from the frogs.
The slime didn’t harm you, so maybe these people aren’t human.
That’s a lot of guesswork, though.
With full potato sacks, the robbers back away toward the door. They haven’t touched your payment, so you don’t move.
Then one of them spies the gleaming coins and he pauses.
Let Him Take the Coins?
Fight with Frogs?
Leave your vote in the comments below. Anyone and everyone is welcome to join in! We’ll return next Thursday to see how this story continues.