Keywords: Counterfeit, Frog, Dirigible
"I ain't no good, Clara," one frog says to the other. "I only got one leg, and the other's all busted up. That chef in Louisiana… he almost got me. I watched my own leg get beer-battered. Christ. I'm drunk on tree sap most the time, lettin' teenage humans lick my back so they'll get higher than a… whatcha call it? Di-rig-ible? I sell counterfeit fireflies to tourist frogs, sprinklin' glitter on houseflies' wings to make them sparkle. Hell, Clara. I gotta make a livin'. Go find yourself a nice frog. I'm— Oh, come here. Give an old frog a kiss."
Preview: Boisterous, Abracadabra, Golf