YoLoBloMo #3: Welcome to another Twisted Tuesday. Yeah, it’s been a while, like, since last Tuesday.
The Scorpion and the Frog
“For ye suffer fools gladly, seeing ye yourselves are wise.” – Saint Paul
Once upon a time… well, actually, every Thursday at 2:00pm, sharp, a scorpion, named Leonard, came to the edge of a pond he needed to cross. You see, for some dumb-assed reason, Leonard lived on the side of the pond where it was hard to find the type of prey he preferred. What that prey might have been I have not a clue. Do I look like a frickin’ scorpion to you?
So once each week, Leonard would scuttle to the edge of the pond, which was too large for him to walk around (that’s why), and wait. The wait was never very long, and within moments of his arrival, a frog, named Maude, would paddle up to the edge of the pond where Leonard waited.
They would exchange greetings
Yes, I know it’s 2:00pm, and you know it’s 2:00pm, but we’re talking about a scorpion and a goddam frog here! You think either of them is carrying a watch around? I’m thinking the average watch weighs way too much for either of them to handle, and that’s completely aside from the fact that, frog and scorpion! Who the hell’s going to teach them how to tell time?
I really wonder about you sometimes.
So, after their somewhat arbitrary greeting, Leonard would crawl onto Maude’s back, and she would turn and swim at a leisurely pace across the pond. Sometimes Leonard would say something like, “I found a rock and filed the points on my legs down a bit.”
And Maude would reply, “I did notice that. Feels much better than last Thursday. Very thoughtful, thanks.”
You realize by now that it could, in fact, have been any day of the week, right? Did I mention frog… scorpion? And no, I have no idea why they have British accents.
Eventually, they would reach the other side of the pond, where Leonard would crawl off of Maude’s back and up onto the muddy edge of the pond, where he would invariably turn to Maude and say, “Eternally in your debt, madam,” and dip his tail a bit, in a gentlemanly salute.
Had Maude been able, she would have blushed each time, but instead, simply replied,”Oh, posh. ‘Twas nothing at all, Leonard.”
“I shall see you next Thursday, then,” Leonard would say. Which could have meant, in a couple of hours, for all I know. Then Leonard, giving a final salute with his tail, would turn and scamper away, in search of prey.
Inevitably, every few days, or hours, or whatever the hell, as Maude would turn back to go float a bit in the middle of the pond before beginning her own foraging, she would be confronted by one or two other frogs (because not all of them could have been Maude… you do see that, don’t you?), who would stare in disbelief.
“What are you on about, then?” Maude would demand.
One of the frogs that was not Maude would finally stammer something about her having carried a scorpion all the way across the pond without having been stung by it.
At which, Maude would puff herself up, just a bit, because too much and she couldn’t talk, so, just enough to look imperious, then she would exclaim, somewhat indignantly, “Well tha’d be bloody stupid, wouldn’t it? I mean, we’d both die then, wouldn’t we?”
“Yeah, but isn’t it the scorpion’s nature to sting?”
“‘Course it is. He’s probably stinging hell out of something right now, I should think,” Maude would reply. As she pushed off from the shore and drifted toward the middle of the pond, she would call back to the stunned frogs, “Stingin’ might be part of his nature, but so’s not bein’ a bloody fool, like you lot.”
Then she would dive deep, partly to get away from idiots, partly because she had decided a nice mud bath was just what she needed.