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I Think I Have A Web-footed Largely Aquatic Tailless
Agile Leaping Amphibian In My Throat

Here I am, cowering near the safety of the computer here in the kitchen (okay, there's no reason the computer is any 'safer' than anywhere else, but it offers a small measure of distraction from my dilemma).

The windows are closed. The skylights shut. The door deadbolted.

All I can hear, from all sides, even over the purring of the cat on my lap and the frantic clicking of the keyboard - are the frogs.

High-pitched voices, they've gotta be little ones. Believe you ME though, the size of the predator does not matter when there are millions of them.

I'm utterly surrounded - it sounds like I could step outside and walk maybe three feet before startling hundreds of them into a kamikaze leap into my open, screaming mouth. I'm convinced there's enough of them to lever the fifth wheel onto their backs and spirit me off into the woods, leaving no trace but a few broken off wires, a forlorn deck chair and a weeping cat sucking it's thumb on the astroturf of the porch.

If you had my number, I'd say, "CALL! CALL RIGHT NOW!" so I could stick my arm through the skylight and you could hear the unholy clamor for yourself.

There's a reason they make movies like this - as a warning!! - it certainly can't be because someone thought they'd make money. I mean, puleeze, a cash-cow? And Sam Elliot! He's a fine upstanding actor - why would he participate in a film such as this except for the most altruistic and humanitarian reasons?

It has to be a warning! A warning that, to my doom, I have mocked!


Seriously, man, they are really loud. I CAN hear them through the walls.

Oh, hang five, someone's tapping on the door, I'll be right ba

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