Emma Warren went to Phil, the Black Water sheriff, for help. "Please help me. Ah'm Emma Warren. Mah husband, Vern, went to find frogs in the swamp yesterday and he didn’t come home. A man named Galt came by and..."
“Was Galt tall with a big chest."
“Yeah.”
I know the story. Don't you worry. We know exactly where he went. We'll leave right now. Try not to worry, Mrs. Warren."
The sheriff and his deputy, Mike, got their rifles, waders, machetes, and canteens, took Emma home, and then went to their airboat and drove into the swamp.
"Well, here we go again, Phil."
"I know. Here we go again."
After traveling several miles, they pulled into a cove. "Look. An airboat. It must belong to the woman's husband," Phil said.
They tied up their boat, put on their waders, and headed into the tall grass. They men hacked their way through the tall grass, waded through swamp water, and finally reached the infamous path. “There’s the clearing, and there’s the huge podium-shaped rock,” Mike said. As they walked slowly toward a clearing, a huge frog jumped out of the grass, sat, and looked at the men.
"Did you ever see a frog that big in your life. My God, it's almost as big as a small dog," Phil said. “That’s what the men came into the swamp to catch.”
The men followed the frog as it hopped down the path to the clearing. As they approached the clearing, they gasped as thousands of frogs jumped out of the tall grass. The frogs moved to the left and right, made a path for them, and then, like a living zipper, closed off the path behind them.
"The damn things are making a path for us to go forward, but we can't go back. Phil, what are
we gonna do?"
“Shoot’ em,” Mike, Phil said, and they fired their rifles and pistols at the frogs until they ran out of
bullets. Frogs jumped at the men from behind, pushing them toward the clearing. At the clearing, frogs jumped at their backs and knocked them down. The men tried to get up, but frogs kept jumping on them.
“Welcome, gentlemen. I'm Ernest Galt, your Host. We're happy that you could come for dinner.”
The men looked up and saw standing behind the podium-shaped rock, a huge...thing. It looks like a man, but, at the same time, it looked like a frog.
"My God. I must be asleep. That's a nightmare."
"How fortunate. There is a place for you. Please go into the dining area. We will be ready for you in a few moments."
The frogs gathered behind the men and threw themselves at their backs, pushing them into the clearing.
"Mike, look. In the center of the clearing. There's a whole bunch of frogs in a group. The men stared at a mound of gyrating frogs. Some frogs moved to the side.
"God!!! They were on a body. A naked body. Oh, God! They were feeding on it," Phil gasped.
"Look. There are frogs waiting. They're waiting in line to eat. One group leaves, and then others take their turn. Phil, they're gonna eat us! They're gonna eat us!"
The men watched frogs eat the man's legs, arms, and tear flesh from the torso. Stunned, the men turned to the sight of the thing standing behind the podium-shaped rock. He was smiling at them.
"It won't be much longer. One should savor a good meal of...peoples' legs, don't you think? Be patient. Soon, we will be ready for you."
Mike sobbed. "Phil, they're gonna eat us."
"I do believe it is your turn, gentlemen. My, you look so uncomfortable dressed in those
uniforms. I'll help you slip into something more comfortable before dinner. Your birthday suit would be appropriate, don't you think?"
Galt raised his arms and addressed his frogs. "Bon appetite, my friends. Bon Appetite." Galt burst into laughter, which echoed throughout the swamp.
The End
Saul Greenblatt