The Frog Prince

"The Frog Prince"

It is a universally accepted collation that frogs and kissing go together like bees and honey, pigs and mud, beer and protuberating guts. However, it was not always so. Once upon a time, there was a frog.

And he was just that.

A frog.

No amount of smoochery was ever going to change that, despite his direst of wishes. The frog had been told that if a fair maiden would only kiss him on the lips, with no regard to his ugliness, or basic sanitation, or plain old fashioned common sense, he would transform into a beautiful maiden himself. Not ideal, perhaps, but better than being a frog, he'd assumed.

This frog, this humdrum ordinary frog with strange wishes in his head, was swimming in the Nile one day when he saw a fairly convenient fair maiden playing with a golden ball by the shore.

As the frog watched, too shy to beg for a kiss, the girl dropped the ball into the Nile. "Oh dear me," she cried. "That river is full of crocodiles, I'll never see my ball again."

At this, the frog saw his opportunity. Heedless of the crocodiles swimming all around him, he dove deep and snatched the ball from amongst the silt and pebbles. None of the crocodiles were in the slightest tempted to eat him, because they were french crocodiles, and had recently had their fill of frog in the finest of Parisian restaurants.

The frog burst from the water with a splash, frightening the fair maiden. She did not know what to make of the little frog, until she saw her treasure caught in his webbed grip. "Oh!" She cried. "You saved my golden ball that I dropped into those crocodile-infested waters just as you happened to swim by!"

"That I did," the frog declared with flourish, bowing low. "And I shall return it to you on one condition. I must... have..." Now that the moment was upon him, the poor frog was more shy than ever. "a..."

"YES?" The girl replied a bit impatiently. The fair maiden was in fact a princess, and not terribly used to anything being withheld from her.

"a... smooch," he finished in a veritable whisper.

"A what? A smooch? You want me to kiss you?" The increasingly befuddled girl was absolutely mortified. "But... you're a frog. And I'm... not. And why would you call it a smooch? That's just creepy."

At this the frog blushed, his dreams shattered. He hung his head low, but something in him made him cling to hope. Rather than give up, he wrapped his tongue around the little golden orb in his hands and devoured it.

"There," he said, a little more confident. "Now you can't be rid of me without losing your treasure." The frog was certain if the girl got to know him, she'd pucker up without hesitation.

But it wasn't so.

"Fine. Yes. Please. Come home with me." She grabbed him roughly by one leg and carried him all the way home to her castle... a castle built entirely out of skittles. This was no ordinary princess but Princess Hannah, daughter of the Skittle King, who lived in the clouds. Princess Hannah did not see her father often, only when an extraordinarily fat person sat on a rainbow, necessitating a repair. Until the rainbow was fixed, it would relentlessly rain skittles down on the unsuspecting world. Sometimes Hannah would run out into the skittles and make skittle angels, their scent reminding her of her often absent skittle dad.

The servants at the castle greeted Hannah as cheerfully as they could, but it was clear she was in a foul mood, angry with the frog for devouring her golden ball. When she got to her personal chambers, she tossed the frog into her bathtub.

"Spit it out at once!" She demanded.

"Give me a kiss!" the frog replied calmly.

"Spit!"

"Kiss!"

At this the wide-eyed chambermaid, who had been straightening up the princess' rooms, quickly vacated. She was never seen in the kingdom of Skittlonia again. She would remember that moment as a defining time in her life, and indeed she left not a moment to soon. For had she stuck around, likely it is she would have been scarred for life.

The princess relented first, desperate to be reunited with her treasure. "You... promise to spit it out... if I give you a... smooch?"

The frog, spirits buoyed by the nearness of his victory, stood up on two legs. "Madame, not only shall I return it, but I am certain your kindness will be rewarded further somehow."

This Princess Hannah pondered with deep ponderance. So great was her pondering that her brow furrowed and her bowels churned. She had heard once a story, of a fair maiden kissing a frog and having it turn into a handsome goose. This she desired more than anything, for goose eggs were her favorite breakfast snack.

"Alright... but no tongue... I beg you." She let the frog sit on her hand and raised him to her lips. The frog puckered his lips in anticipation, and the girl closed her eyes, bracing herself for the horror that was to come.

And then... it was over. One moment they'd been kissing, the next such a thing was no longer possible. The frog was not transformed into anything handsome, man, goose or otherwise. As he'd expected, he'd transformed into a beautiful woman.

"That's a bit disappointing," he muttered, examining himself, and his new dress.

"You think YOU have a reason to be disappointed?" Hannah cried.

She had in fact become a goose.

THE END



Author's Note: I called this story "The Frog Prince" because I borrowed heavily from the Grimm's fairy tale of the same name. However, in most original versions, the frog had to sleep on the princess' bed, or be thrown against a wall, in order to transform. The origin of the idea of kissing the frog is actually a mystery. I was going to stick with throwing it against the wall (with the kissing only included as a gag) but the ending just sort of came out, and I ran with it.