Spying a suitable female floating in the swamp shallows, the hero of our tale approaches. He summons up all his courage, and trying not to sound too toadyish, blurts out “Hi there gorgeous!â€
Disdainfully, the object of his desire replies: “You croaking at me? Why on earth should I….hey! What in a reptile’s name is THAT on your back?â€
Our hero puffs himself up proudly, his confidence swelling like a bloated throat sac. “Oh that? Glad you noticed. It’s the latest in Alberta designer accessories – my amphibian backpack. Don’t you think it’s sexy….? Burp! – What you waiting for….Wanna mate?â€
“Yeuch! Looks like you’ve been ◊◊◊◊ on by a seagull, more like. Either that or you’ve kissed another toad and got a massive wart.â€
The hurt is palpable in our hero’s throaty voice. “But I think warts are so sexy… at least yours are. And no, its not seagull crap – I’m a research subject in a special Canadian science project!â€
“Huh!†The target of his affection snorts in derision. “Research into what? How a toad can be so dumb as to let someone stick a monstrous dildo on his back?â€
Realisation dawns in our hero’s mind for the first time – he must look like some Frankentoad freak! Damn those University scientists – kidding him on about how suave and sexy he looked as they strapped him down to their laboratory work top. How gullible could a toad be? – All those promises of rampant females clambering over each other in their haste to get a slice of the action with a designer SuperToad now seemed as empty as a fish bladder. He saw all his dreams of being the swamp’s main Casanova dissolving into frothy mucus before his beady eyes. His hopes would be forever dashed of lording it over that arrogant bullfrog from under the mossy log who was always boasting about his high spawn count. Here had been his one and only chance to be someone, something – a dashing, desirable beau for all the sex-starved females in the pond, his one chance to show those other toads he was fit for something other than being an intermediary in a pike’s food chain – and now he realised it would never be.
Our hero quietly turns away, so as not to show the tears that slowly trickle down his cheeks, looking for the nearest stone to crawl under.
“Wait! Just hang on a minute! I’ve got an idea…†He hears a voice ring out. “You know, from this angle, it looks quite impressive. And god knows most of you stupid toads in this back swamp are hardly what I would describe as well endowed. Not at all like those huge ones I met on that last migration in Calgary." A dreamy look comes into her toady eyes, which blink at the memory. "Now, I know the female is always underneath, but in your case I am quite tempted to make an exception and be a little adventurous…. Burp! Wanna mate?!â€
Our hero can hardly believe it –The scientists were right after all! Of course he knew that she didn’t desire him for his earthy personality, his fruity croak or even his leathery looks (though he did think his inflated throat sac looked quite magnificent sometimes -well at least from the left side in the half-light so you couldn’t see his double chin). She only wanted him because he had a large appendage she could use for sex – typical! But then again, why should he complain…?
“Let’s be having you then, gorgeous!†he yells, twisting so she could leap up on top of him.
Just then, .....disaster!
As the nearby fisherman told reporters later, both toads just seemed to burst. “One minute I was sat there, looking at these two slimy toads writhing about, when “Boom!â€, entrails were flying all over the place. I even got hit in the eye by this funny little plastic cylinder all covered in slime.â€
Next day the news headlines declared: “Exploding toad epidemic reaches Canada!†A picture showing the top half-torso of a very smug-looking toad accompanied the article.