A Dramatic Turn of Events

I feel the need to distance myself from recent painful events so I have decided to dramatise them so you can see for yourself what happened and I can watch from a safe distance.

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Head teacher's office: an assortment of adolescent amphibians cower together in a group, all trying to curl back up into tadpole position. All accept 1 Newt, he stands apart, upright straight in front of the desk. He keeps giving the others withering glances from behind his guyliner.

Newton: Pull yourselves together phibs, we don't want old Chatternack to smell any fear.

The cowering cohort try hard to get themselves into line and pull up straight, very little unconvincingly.

Newton: That' better, don't worry I have it all in web.

The door slams open and in jumps Sir Chatternack an intimidating large and warty amphibian who looks more like a toad than a frog. He takes up his place behind the desk, settles down into his chair and folds his webs. Silence follows  but his eyes meet Newton's and they seem to be involved in a long telepathic stand off.

Sir C/N: (quietly and threateningly) It has been brought  to my attention that there is an illegal frogpool team operating within my school.

Newton: And who brought it to your attention Sir? Would it be Nostradamus Frog sir? The irresponsible frog that has had the whole bog in turmoil and fear while he hid in a under a log?

Sir C/N:  The source of my information is not relevant, what is relevant is that you are the silly phib responsible for this ridiculous rabble who think they are a frogpool team.

Newton: I am very proud to be the founding member of Amphibians United, if that's what you mean?

Sir C/N: You do realise that you are a newt don't you?

Newton: It's hard to not to notice the tail sir.

Sir C/N: And are you aware that a number of your team mates are also newts, or even toads.

Newton: I am sir. Are you finding species identification a little difficult sir? Everyone needs to be clear about their identity.

Sir C/N: Very amusing Mr. Newton I'm sure. I'm sure you don't need me to remind an intelligent Newt like yourself that frogpool is just for frogs. The clue's in the name.

Newton: Well maybe it's time the name was changed sir, I'm intelligent enough to recognise species discrimination when it hops in my face.

Sir C/N: The law clearly states that only frogs are allowed to play frogpool, I didn't make the law, I only follow it.

Newton: Do you? (there is a long silence, Sir Chatternack is not going to rise to that last comment) Anyway, I am following the law sir, as you see sir we do have a frog playing frogpool for us.

Sir Chatternack turns his attention to the poor frog trying to disappear behind Newton.

Sir C/N: Ah yes, Hieronymus, your involvement with these criminal has not escaped my attention.

Frog: (in trembling croak) Criminals?

Sir C/N: Why yes young man, why would you want to play the beautiful game with such pathetic creatures as these, I mean their inferiority must be obvious to a decent frogpool player like yourself.

Newton: (finally loosing his cool) Inferior! I'll have you know that this team could wipe the pond floor with what passes as the school team and we'll prove it to you too!

Sir C/N: (looking at the gibbering phibs clearly amused) Really? I'd like to see that. Well as you know I should expel you and report this infringement of bog law to the authorities but I think I may take up your gauntlet Mr. Newton. A dose of humiliation is just what you need to put you all back in your box and with no need for a criminal record. I think I will rather enjoy the look on your faces after we've trashed you soundly.

Newton: As I will enjoy the look on yours when you eat those words Sir.

Sir C/N: I think I'd better dismiss you before you make things any worse for yourselves.

The rabble of phibs quickly turn and start hopping towards the door as if they have won a great victory when Sir Chatternack clears his throat and calls out.

Sir C/N Oh and Hieronymus, I'll see you at practice on Tuesday.

Frog: Practice Sir, but I thought after this I'd be off the team Sir.

Sir C/N: Really? Well young frog, you're a member of this school are you not? And if you want to stay a member of this school then I you will have to stay a member of out frogpool team and I think we'll be needing some extra practice sessions in the circumstances, we won't want to take any chances will we?

Frog: Yes sir, I understand sir.

The phibs finally exit, but now they drag their webs, and dip their shoulders in a defeated manner.

What is a frog to do?

If You Go Down to the Bog Today...

Having fed thirteen sets of poor gullible parents a tissue of lies concerning who was sleeping at whose pad that night the inevitable moment arrived. The moment when thirteen mismatched amphibians congregated at Newton's secret training ground for their first team practice.

In actual fact they had all practised together many times before, it was me who was the new phib in the bog and I hoped the initiations to this team bore no resemblance to the ones when I joined the school frogpool team. For the first 3 months I had to perform all practice moves whilst wearing a sign that said 'pond scum performs better than me'. Eventually I was allowed to ditch the sign, but spent another 6 weeks having to serve half time algae juice to my team mates while tap dancing. And don't forget that was all when Pixie actually quite liked me!

I needn't have worried my webs though. Joining this team was a completely different nettle of fish. My new team mates regard me as a hero, the frog who deigns to play frogpool with toads and newts. They watched my every move as if it were a masterclass in the sport. They even applauded me in warm up stretches. Actually they are all pretty good themselves. Newton is an excellent coach and it was clear that the practice they had put in was paying off.

There was one problem that became apparent as Newton coached us through a series of exercises. We all raced across the pool. I came first. Myself and the toads hopped across the lily pads, I came first. Myself and the newts dived down to the pond floor, I arrived first. It seemed non of my team mates were prepared to humiliate me in any way whatsoever. When eventually it came to tackling and not one of them would come within 10 cm of me poor Newton clapped his webs to his forehead in desperation.

"What is wrong with you all?" he declared, "Look I know he's on our side, I know he's doing a great thing for us, but don't forget he's a frog! He's our enemy, too long in the bog the frog has ruled supreme especially in the frog pool, this is our chance to take them down a hop or two!"



 There was a nano of a nano  second and suddenly I was jumped on from all sides by 11 other phibs. Newton very kindly held back to give everyone else a good turn. I actually felt rather at home in the slimy mass, now I really knew that I was part of a frogpool team.

A Heap of Phibs

It was while I was in the centre of this scrum that a terrifying noise ripped through the training bog, it was so loud and resonant that waves rippled across the bog and all the phibs dropped away from me.

As we heap tumbled away dazed by the noise another frog hopped into out midst. A rather large frog, a frog with 'Croak Till You Choke' tattooed across his throat. It was Nostradamus Frog. Where he had hopped from I didn't know but I could see the fear in my team mates eyes, I felt it in my own guts too.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he croaked.

Newton was the only one of us to seem calm, "Frogpool," he said without a pause.

"Exactly!" he said, "frogpool, for frogs and I see no frog here."

"Well non accept Frog over there," said Newton.

My cousin looked directly at me, "Like I said, I see no frog's here." He smiled up one side of his face, "Well I think it is my civic duty to report any illegal sporting activity at once to Sir Chatternack." And with that he started to hop away.

"I see no frogs!"

Newton called out, "You do that Notty, and while you're there don't forget to explain to him where you have been for the last month."

Notty pulled up on a pad and looked back over his shoulder, "Oh that's easy," he said, "I've been  waiting  patiently here to catch you out, I'd seen you sneaking this way and I knew something fishy was going on when little Ronnie suddenly wanted to be friends." Then he hopped and was gone

So we're all in pike poo up to our throats and, as usual, it's all my fault.

Papering Over the Croaks

I think this week in the bog can be summed up by two pieces of paper that are doing the rounds. the first is this poster that has been pasted up absolutely EVERYWHERE in the bog.

Notty's mum must really hate him because if he ever reads one of the thousands of posters that she has printed there is no way he'll ever show his face in the big again!

The second bit of paper was mysteriously posted into my lily locker one day. The mystery only lasted as long as it took me to unfold it, Newton has obviously been putting his sizable intellect towards team formation.

I have to say that newt is a tactical genius, he certainly knows how to make the most of our strengths this could actually be a pretty good team. But that aside it is the scariest piece of paper I have ever held. Suddenly it makes it real, and not just real but evidence! I now appear firmly in the centre of an illegal frogpool team, if Chatternack ever gets his webs on this my education, and worse, my life is over!

Amphibians Unite

There' still no sign of Nostradamus despite the fact that daily and nightly searches are carrying on. The curfew remains in place but Newton has found a bit of a loop hole round it. We may all have to be back at a pad by 6 but no one seems to care whose pad so Newton decided to arrange a mass sleep over!

I wasn't exactly an enthusiastic participant, in fact I was the last to arrive. I wish I hadn't bothered, the moment Newton showed me onto his pad I was welcomed like some kind of hero by all the gathered newts and toads. They all croaked, slapped their webs or lashed their tails for me, my inner tadpole just wanted to curl up. I still haven't decided if I can be part of the team, they don't know I'm a coward not a hero.

Anyway when the clammer had died down Newton introduced me to my would be team mates.

The Bulls

Petula- A female toad of gargantuan proportions, about 3 times my size, but with the tiniest little croak I've ever heard.

Begonia- Another female toad, she seemed a little unsure about whether she really wanted to be there, I think Petula had dragged her along.

Delphinium- The smallest of the female toads, but has by far the biggest bubbliest personality.

Arial- I never heard this female toad actually speak, and she was notably smaller than the others, her movements were so graceful and fluid I wondered if she were real or pond mist.



Petula, Begonia, Delphinium and Arial



Tennyson- a male toad, nearly a big as the females, he has an intimidating physical presence but speaks with the politest grammar I've ever heard in the bog.

Mugwort- Tennyson's best friend, a little smaller but defiantly broader and well muscled. he had a strong bog toad accent but apart from that his manners equal Tennyson's.

Pavlova- A female newt. Very long and lithe but noticeably well muscled.

Ivana- A female newt not as toned as Pavlova but she has a presence that is somehow intimidating as if she can read your thoughts before you've even thought them.

Edison- A cheerful male newt, seems physically far too small to play as a bull and will be pulverised, but he seems happily unaware of this fact and fully expects to win every match. The fact that he thinks there could possibly ever be more than one match in itself is a major feat of optimism.

Pythagoras- Another male newt to play as bull, a little larger than Edison (or Eddie as he likes to be known) and much more reserved. He seems to be a bit of an observer on the outside, but I think he is still summing up the team and working out where they, and he fits into all this.

Edison and Pythagoras

The Subs

Aristotle- Small male toad whose wits are quicker than a pike on a fishing hook, I think is fair to say he's the joker in the team.


Newton- Eyeliner black as night, soul as bright as the north star and seems to be to the team as the pied piper was to rats.

Frog- me, looks like I can't get out of this now!


There was much talk over the evening about tactics and how to manage practice under the current regime, but the biggest topic on everyone's mind was what to call ourselves. There were lots of ridiculous suggestions of course, 'The Three Phibs of the Apocolypse'  'Bogpool Hoppers' or 'Chatternack's Nightmare's. But eventually it was agreed that the name that summed up exactly what we stood for was 'Amphibian United'.

Amphibian United

Runaway Reprobates and Reprieves

I was terrified to go back to school after Newton's shock revelation last week. All illegal frogpool activity should be reported to Sir Chatternack immediately so that he can inform the authorities. Of course there is no way I'm going to drop my best friend in the mire like that. Newton is completely right but if anyone finds out that I know about an illegal team I'll be expelled faster that you can say gribbit. If I'm actually playing for that team I honestly don't want to even think about what will happen to me, frogs have disappeared for less. 

Wherever I went in school on Monday I was convinced that phibs could see straight through my skull to what I was thinking, I daren't look anyone in the eyes. Luckily for me something came along as a distraction. Not so lucky for Nostradamus Frog though, Nostradamus has bogged off and is missing!

Have you seen this frog?

My reprobate of a cousin was last seen hopping towards the road croaking that he'd had enough of this backbog, he was going to make his mark in the great wet world. His disappearance had sent panic rippling through the habitat. Search parties have been all over the bog and there is no sign of him, thankfully especially on the road. School is taking it especially seriously and Sir Chatternack himself has interviewed every member of Note's choir to try and discover where and why he has gone, but if they know they won't croak.

Sir Chatternack is terrified it may start a wave of disinfected adolescent defections so he called the whole school into the hall to watch this not at all patronising public information video.

http://www.britanimation.com./

Nostradamus' disappearance has prompted a wide range of responses from the bog community, here are just some of them.

Sir Chatternack- Nostradamus is a foolhardy frog and his behavior will only lead nowhere good and should not be imitated under any circumstances.

Dad- The outside world will pound him to pond sludge.

Mum- Oh my bog, it's Uncle Bosch all over again!

Gramps- I don't know what all the fuss is about, I mean it's not as if he's any loss to the bog, better off out of the gene pool if you ask me.

Newton- If anyone really believes he has crossed over to the other side they've got pond weed for brains. He's as scared of the road as the next phib, it's all a big show, he'll be laying low under a log somewhere thinking up what his story is going to be ready for his dramatic homecoming.

And what do I think? I've barely give Note a second thought, I'm just relieved that it's bought me some time over the inter-species frogpool team. The bog's now under a strict curfew which means there is no chance for after school frogpool practises, I can duck the issue for a little longer. Hopefully, if the curfew last long enough, Newton will have lost his equality fervor and come to his senses. And if you believe that then you believe Sir Chatternack was once a froglet!



NEWT FLASH!

OH MY BOG!

NEWTON'S BACK! He just crawled up onto my pad last night with no warning. His smile as bright, his eyeliner as dark as ever.




MISS ME?

 

And it's worse than I thought, whatever fears I had been dreaming up about him being dissected by a biped, smashed to pieces by a juggernaut or inducted into a weird frog hating sect could not prepare me for the sheer horror of what he's been doing.

HE'S FORMED HIS OWN FROGPOOL TEAM!

He's had some questions to answer I can tell you!

What are you thinking?

I'm thinking I'd quite like you to offer me an algae juice.

Frogpool is not an inter-species sport, you do know it's illegal for you to play don't you?

I know that it is the most outmoded, xenophobic piece of legal pond weed introduced by a group of close minded frogs with a superiority complex, tail envy and small webs! It's about time someone brought this ecosystem hopping and croaking into the 21st century and stopped discriminating against amphibians just because of their species.

Yes, but why you?

Because I can.

No you can't. You'll get kicked out of school, do you want that?

I don't think West Bogside can offer me a lot more educationally speaking, it's about time I gave something back.

Who in bog is going to be stupid enough to join the team?

Actually I already have a full squad of toads and newts plus several as reserves. We've been having practices for weeks now.

What? Where?

I converted the deserted marsh behind the bull rushes, a bit of clever channel and damn building and I've made a full size frogpool.

How are you going to stop Sir Chatternack from finding out?

I'm not, as soon as the team is at it's peak I intend to challenge his team against mine, then I can prove once and for all the species does not matter in sport.

What!? Are you mad?

My last three psychological profiles say that apart from a slight disregard for self, probably not.

Newton, why didn't you tell me what you've been doing?

Probably because I knew you'd behave like this.

So why tell me now?

Because for it to be a true inter-species team I need a frog, plus the newts make great underwater subs but aren't so good at the aerial pad leaps. 

Why me?

Because Frog, you are my best friend and I know I can rely on you. Besides I've been missing spending time with my best frog.

So there you have it. My best friend is the coach of an  illegal underground frogpool team and he wants me to join. I understand why he's doing it, and I admire his courage. But I don't think I would be so brave if I had to tell me mum and dad I got kicked out of school, which I would be if Sir Chatternack got wind of this. Not to mention what the bulls would do to me, and Lily hates me enough already! It's social suicide but how can I say no?



Can I say no?



Practice Makes Pain!

So webs all healed I couldn't put off returning to frogpool practice any longer, I'd been forgetting to limp around Sir Chatternack for at least a week.

I dreading the return, I mean going back to the team means spending time with my almost ex girlfriend (Pixie) and the new love of my life (Lily) who both hate me. This was never going to be an easy reunion so I could not have been more surprised by the reception I got.

As I hopped onto the sidepads of the frogpool pool I was met with balloons, party poppers and cheers! For a gnats heartbeat I actually thought I was being given a genuine welcome back party, and why not after all I had sustained my injuries whilst playing for the team? But then I saw the banner. It was slung right across the central pads and announced 'WELCOME BACK MEAT!'

Meat is short for Dead Meat and is the name that Pixie has called me ever since I accidentally stood her up at the hop. And if I could have been in any doubt that the use of the name on the banner was some kind of threat, the word meat had actually been smeared on using some sort of roadkill!!!!  The paler I turned the louder the cheering and croaking grew as the team enjoyed every morsel of my fear. I couldn't bear to look at them, especially because sat in the middle was the massive mound of froggy femininity that is the beautiful Lily.

So then it began.


Round 1

Warm Up Stretches- As I bent down to touch my toe webs something hit me hard in my backside. I went flying into the pool. I resurfaced to much hilarity from my team mates.

Round 2

Lily Pad Hops- As I was racing across the frogpool by hopping across on the lily pads one of them mysteriously disappeared underneath me just as I was landing on it. Once again I took an unplanned dive and came up to hysterical team mates.

Round 3

Underwater Swimming- I dived into the frogpool to practise my underwater frogpool crossings. Strangely as I did I crashed into a rock just below the surface that had defiantly not been there earlier. I think I resurfaced to my team members (notice I'm not using the word mates anymore) laughing, although I'm not quite sure as I was rather dazed and seeing butterflies fluttering around my head.

Round 4

Practice Tackles- OK this one I should have been prepared for, I was always going to be the bull's favourite target. I was kicked, grabbed twisted, punched, sat on, stretched, plunged and hurled all around the pool. I ended up covered in bruises and scratches, but nothing actually broken, they wouldn't want to cause serious injury that would prevent me coming back to go through it all again next week now would they!



KNOCKOUT!



And the Worst Part- as I was put through this ritual humiliation for the team, Lily the love of my life, didn't even notice. She didn't tackle me, push me, punch me laugh at me or even glance at me. It was as if I didn't exist. I can't believe she hates me that much!