Ol' Froggy - Joshua Gramse

Ol' Froggy.

Been mayor since back in... aught eight?  Aught nine?

Long time.

Built the new library.

Christmas turkeys for the poor.

For he's a jolly good fellow.

Or was.

We put ya on our shoulders.

It's a cryin' shame.

Wolverton Atkins Frogmorton Jr.

Handsome gentry.

County blue blood goin' back to general Washington.

Brandy, cigars and a joy buzzer at the Benevolent Brotherhood of Black Bears Lodge.

Kept 'em in stitches at the charity pancake breakfast.

A wink and a grin.

Should've noticed those teeth.

Oh Froggy, how could ya?

Dapper dandy.

But not afraid to get his paws dirty.

He pitched in for sand baggin' the creek back in '11

On his hands and knees in the mud like some four-legged thing.

Do full moons affect creek floods?

You broke our hearts!

Silver tongue sweet talked somebody for state funds.

Glad handed your way around the county seat till they ran the new state route through town.

Business boomed.

People'd hand ya their babies.

All day honorary uncle.

When Emil Watkins ran against ya, he never even had a chance.

Never took nobody with ya on your monthly hunting trips.

That's your business, but ya shared the meat.

Turns out, I guess ya didn't need a gun.

Did we ever even know ya?

All them years, Froggy.

All them cattle and sheep.

A bloody business.

We thought it was bears, or the odd mountain lion.

And here it was you all along.

And us all thinkin' it was safe to walk around at night.

I guess yer Pa, and yer Pa's Pa, and on down the line had done the same.

You pulled the wool over our eyes, or was it shaggy ol' fur?

Now we know what all was makin' all that racket up in the woods.

And add to that dear Mrs. Dooley, Young Miss Grafton, and even Myrtle Dutton the doctor's wife.

And Doc your best Chum.

You rake.

Poor ladies so red faced they might have to move away.

How'd you pull it off so long without folks gettin' wise?

But the granddaddy of 'em all was that great hoodwink.

How many years?

The town coffers and the school fund ain't your personal plunder.

Keeping up that big ol' house and all them fancy clothes.

Got one over on us, sure enough.

Sticky fingered swindler.

Say it ain't so!

You're a lousy thief, a shameless cad and a no account werewolf to boot?

So Ol' Froggy, we're runnin' you out on a rail!  And if you ever come back we'll make a rug outta ya!

Where's Emil Watkins?  He still lookin' for a job?  Hand him a silver candlestick and see if he winces.

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