The Last Croak

Bob IV - A Frog

"Good 'till the last twitch"

It clambered over the green, moss-soaked pebbles, occasionally stopping to chew on a stray reed or blade of grass. Ever so slowly it advanced on its path, just inches from the edge of the pond. Its natural predators gave it free passage, repulsed by its sheer size and brazenness. This kind of creature was rare for the pond, and one of its size was quite bizarre. Predators respond genetically to specific patterns in their environment and are usually good at identifying edible prey. This creature; however, because of its size and behavior, did not trigger those aggressive behaviors in its predators that would otherwise lead to its quick demise. The body of a Giant Weta, not including its legs and antennae, can reach a length of four inches and weighed the equivalent of three small mice. This one was every bit that size as it was just past the prime of its life...

Several weeks ago, Bob had suffered an aneurysm that damaged the portion of his brain associated with identity. When he regained consciousness, he found that his brain had rewired itself to identify as a frog. So Bob, living and thinking as he imagined a frog would live and think, survived in the sewers by sleeping in mud, consuming bugs, rotting carcasses of road kill, dead bodies of rats he crawled on, and garbage that washed in from the streets above. That was Bob's daily routine for the weeks leading to his escape from the sewer labyrinth.

...Only his eyes were above the waterline as he spied the creature crawling along the muddy edge of the pond. Occasionally, he brought his nose above the surface to breathe and could do this without making a ripple. Bob had been tracking the Giant Weta for over an hour. The monstrous insect was moving slowly; stopping for minutes at a time, doing nothing discernible. But Bob was patient. He had dined on a booty of earthworms earlier that day and was still full, but he could not let this rare morsel get away. Bob continued to stalk his prey...

When Bob had emerged from the sewer it was early morning and the first fingers of dawn were reaching into the starry night. He was naked and his skin calloused. Although filthy with mud, slime, and his own excrement, Bob had become strong, both physically and mentally. When he first gazed on the pond, he knew he was home. He couldn't remember how long he had been crawling the sewers; it seemed like his entire life. He had no other memory beyond the sewer.

...The Giant Weta was perched right next to the pond where Bob stealthily positioned himself for his final assault. Like a hungry lion before the kill, his muscles grew taut, pupils narrowed, and heart quickened as he readied his body for the assault...

He found her that first day at the pond. Found his mother, his father, and his entire family. He was so happy to be back with his family of frogs. He spent most of his time playing with his siblings - making frog noises, playfully pushing them with his head to make them hop, catching food together. He was so happy to be home.

...Without making a sound, Bob pounced on the giant bug, catching the monstrosity just before it scampered away. Now, holding it down with both hands he immediately bit into its gut, devouring most of the insect's body with his first bite. Bob hadn't quite mastered his gag reflex yet and regurgitated the insect and a few earthworms he had fed on earlier in the day, only to immediately consume them again from the vomit before him. Bob ate the head and upper thorax last. They were still connected with three legs fully intact. He used his tongue to play with the Giant Weta's head inside his mouth. He noticed that when he placed the Weta's head between his molars, and gave it a little pressure, the bug's remaining three legs twitched and tickled the roof of his mouth. He did this a few more times until he felt a crack and the legs twitched no more. With a bit of sadness that his toy was broken, he crushed the head fully and swallowed the soup within.