The Mighty Frog

by Guy Bass

  “I… Kryl!” Frog began, scrambling to his feet. He raced to the other side of the room, where Kryl still slept, and lifted her into his arms. Her head fell limply to one side, her eyes rolling back.

  “Wake up, Kryl!” he shouted, shaking her. “Please wake up…”

  “Baa?” bleated Sheriff Explosion.

  “What happened?” asked Princess Rainbow, returning her parents to her pocket. “Why is she so sleepy?”

  “He did something to her brain in the UnSlumber,” Frog replied. “He hurt her there and stunk up her brain in real life.”

  “‘He’? Who’s ‘he’?” asked Nigel.

  Frog didn’t answer. He lay Kryl gently on the floor and stood up, his fists tightly clenched. “Tell the bragons to start boasting – we’ve got a long journey ahead of us. We’re going back to the Inbetween.”

  Twenty minutes (and a lot of boasting) later, the Omnium Gatherum led the bragon army up through the clouds. While Nigel piloted the house, Princess Rainbow and Man-Lor sat with Kryl. Frog, meanwhile, stared out of the smashed front window, the wind whistling around his head. The bragons soared alongside the house, filled to bursting with air, flying higher than they had ever flown.

  “Baa,” said Sheriff Explosion, nuzzling Frog’s leg.

  Frog ruffled the sheep’s wool. “Don’t worry, it’ll be all right,” said Frog, sounding less than convinced. His dream buzzed in his head like spiderflies. Did he really want to be a conqueror, deep down? Was there any point in being good, if he was destined to be evil? He was more confused than ever.

  Frog took out his diary and chalk.

  “Frog, if you don’t mind me asking,” said Nigel, “what is the plan to save the world from the titanic, world-destroying spaceship?”

  The question shook Frog out of his musing. Nigel was right – he needed to focus on the matter in hand.

  “The Inbetween is the plan,” he replied. “The Inbetween is one hundred per cent magic, and Kroakan scanners can’t see magic gubbins. That’s why the rarewolf hid me there in the first place. So we wait on the island for the spaceship to arrive and then – ka-trap! – we attack before they spot us and exploom them all over the shop.”

  “Seems pretty watertight, by gosh,” said Nigel, trying to sound positive. “What could possibly go wrong?”

  Frog glanced over at the unmoving Kryl. Then he buried his doubts deep in the pit of his stomach.

  The journey to the Inbetween was long, even by bragon standards. Some had to rest mid-flight, landing on the roof of the Omnium Gatherum and boasting themselves back to a sufficiently swollen state. By the time the flight of bragons passed over the top of the Inbetween and caught sight of the island, none of them had the energy to brag, even if they’d wanted to.

  The blue house landed on the shore and Frog, Princess Rainbow, Man-Lor and Sheriff Explosion stepped out, carrying armfuls of sunder-guns. They proceeded to distribute them among the bragons.

  “How come they all get a sundy-gun and I don’t?” asked Princess Rainbow, adding, “I want a pink one with sparkles on it.”

  “And that’s why you don’t get one,” tutted Frog. “Defeating is serious business, not fluffy princess—”

  A shadow fell across the island. There came a rumble in the air – a deep, grating hum that made every bone in Frog’s body ache. He looked up. It was King Kroak’s Farthership. And it was huge.

  Frog’s jaw fell open, and he felt his stomach turn.

  “You’re going to need a bigger gun,” said Princess Rainbow.

  The Farthership

  The Farthership descended through the air. It was impossibly vast, as if the sky itself were falling slowly upon them. The oil-black spaceship glinted in the afternoon sun, its slick surface dotted with hundreds of blinking green lights.

  “Baa…?” bleated Sheriff Explosion.

  “They don’t see us,” said Frog. “The Inbetween’s magic is working its magic!” He glanced over at the bragons, who were frozen with fear. Princess Rainbow, Man-Lor and Nigel, too, were rooted to the spot.

  “It’s really, really big,” said Princess Rainbow. She took the shrunken King and Queen out of her dress pocket and lifted them up. “It must look even bigger for you.”

  “Hail, Kroak,” squeaked the tiny brain-slaves.

  “Bragons, start your boasting!” Frog commanded. “Boast the most!”

  “I… I am the Duke… I am the g-greatest of the greatest of the great…” began Nigel, leading the way, and though his boasts seemed more hollow than ever, he started to fill with hot air. The other bragons joined in and were soon as swollen as their terror would allow.

  Frog turned to Princess Rainbow. “Princess, you and Man-Lor stay in the blue house, where it’s safe,” he said. “I need you to look after Kryl and make sure no one stinks her brain up any more, OK?”

  “But I want to do defeating!” she protested.

  “Yep, well, you’re five years old, so you don’t get to fight in battles,” replied Frog.

  “You’re one years old!” she snapped. “You’re a baby!”

  “Look, just stay in the house!” ordered Frog. “I mean it!”

  “Man-Lor is happy to stay,” confessed Man-Lor. “I am Man-Lor.”

  Frog leaped on to Nigel’s back. Then he heard a “Baa?” and looked down to see Sheriff Explosion peering up at him.

  “Sorry, Sheriff, you’ll have to sit this one out, too,” he said. “Hold on to the fort, I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Baa,” bleated the sheep meekly.

  Frog looked up into the sky. He checked his sunder-gun, patted the hilt of his sword and took a long, deep breath.

  “This is it!” he cried. “Up, up and off we go!”

  The air was filled with the sound of beating wings. Dust flew into the air as the bragons launched themselves towards the Farthership. Frog drew Basil Rathbone and held it aloft.

  “Bragons! Tomorrow we dine on polished sandwiches and roseberry wine!” he roared. “But today we don’t eat until we defeat!”

  The Battle Begins

  “They still haven’t noticed us!” cried Nigel, as he flew towards the gleaming hull of the Farthership, Frog riding upon his back. “It’s looking good, by gosh!”

  “Bragons! Take aim!” shouted Frog, as they came within firing distance. “And make sure you’ve got the shooty end of your guns pointed at the ship!”

  “For Kingdomland!” cried Susan.

  “For our continued survival!” added Old ’n’ Graham.

  “For… Actually, I think that covers it,” added Nigel.

  “Fire!” Frog yelled. The bragons opened fire and their sunder-beams streaked through the air, battering and scoring the Farthership’s hull. The bragons soared along the underside of the ship as fire and sparks spewed from gashes in the hull.

  “Do your thing, Basil Rathbone!” Frog jammed his invincible sword into the hull, slicing through the metal like it was turnip soup. More sparks spat out from inside as Nigel swooped away.

  “And that’s how you bring the mightiness!” Frog cried. He glanced back and caught sight of movement along the rim of the Farthership’s hull. Black saucers, ten or more of them, darting through the air towards the bragons.

  “King Kroak’s got his own traceships!” Frog cried. “Bumdrops!”

  “Bragons, beware, by gosh!” shouted Nigel.

  The bragons barely had time to wheel around as the traceships’ sunder-beams lit up the sky. The agile bragons ducked and weaved as best they could, but they weren’t all fast enough. In the first volley, six bragons fell from the sky and plunged down into the Inbetween.

  “Yoiks…” uttered Frog, as he watched the bodies fall. “Everyone – split up! Stay close to the Farthership!”

  The bragon army scattered, spiralling in every direction, swooping up and over the top of the Farthership, frantically boasting to maintain the right level of inflation.

  “Here they come again, by golly!” yelled Susan. Frog lo
oked back. The traceships had pursued them over the top of the hull.

  “They’re gaining on us!” cried Old ’n’ Graham. “We’re doomed!”

  “Doomed shmoomed! Just be ready with your sunder-guns – I’m going to distract them with my skills!” cried Frog. “Nigel, slow down! Let the traceships catch us up!”

  “Catch us up? Oh poo,” sighed Nigel. He tucked in his wings and let out an almighty burp. Susan and Old ’n’ Graham glanced back as Nigel halted in mid-air.

  “Perfect,” grinned Frog, as the traceships soared over his head. With that, he pushed off Nigel’s back with his mighty legs – and launched himself into the air.

  “WHUF!” he cried, landing atop one of the traceships with a thud. He bounced and skittered along the ship’s surface, digging his sword into the metal and gouging a great hole out of the hull. Then he drew his sunder-gun and blasted the exposed machinery within.

  “Eat the defeat! EAT it!” he roared. “I am The Mighty Frog!”

  Explosions rocked the traceship and it listed in the air, smoke and fire spewing out from inside. As it careered out of control, Frog leaped on to another traceship, plunging Basil Rathbone’s blade into the hull. He gouged and blasted again, before an almighty hop carried him on to a third. As he hacked and blasted wildly, the other traceships broke off their attack.

  “Nigel!” cried Susan, as the bragon army regrouped. “Now’s our chance, by golly!”

  “Then fire!” Nigel declared. “Fire! Fire!”

  And fire the bragons did. Within moments, the remaining traceships were sent crashing on to the Farthership’s surface or plummeting into the Inbetween.

  “I’ll smash you to bits and pieces!” Frog roared, slashing away at the final traceship.

  The panicked pilot flew his burning ship high into the air, looping and whirling to shake off its determined passenger. Frog dug in his sword and held on.

  “Frog!” cried Nigel, pursuing the trail of smoke and fire into the sky. “Jump, by gosh! The ship is going to—”

  The Tide Turns

  As the traceship exploded in mid-air, Frog found himself plummeting through the sky, his armour scorched and burning.

  “Yooooooiiiiiiks!” he cried. In his daze he spotted the Farthership below him. He closed his eyes and braced himself for a rough landing…

  “Got you, by gosh!” Nigel shrieked, as he grabbed Frog in his claws. “Next time, warn me you’re going to do something reckless! Or perhaps I should just expect it…”

  “Just – ow! – just get us back into the battle!” yelled Frog. He saw smoke pouring from the Farthership’s damaged hull as the bragons swooped around it, sunder-guns blasting. “We’re doing it … we’re defeating the bumbles out of—”

  There came a sudden noise – a deep, growling whirr, emanating from inside the Farthership. Then Frog saw a hundred portholes slide open along the rim of the ship … and a hundred sunder-cannons emerge from inside.

  “Yoiks!” cried Frog. “Move! Everyone—”

  Frog’s cries were drowned out by the sunder-beams’ shrieks. The sky-filling barrage blasted out in every direction. The bragons ducked and dived but most could not avoid the bombardment. They fell one after the other, like spiderflies being swatted out of the air.

  “No!” Frog cried.

  He saw a wounded Old ’n’ Graham crash on to the surface of the Farthership. Then, as Susan dived after him, she, too, was hit. She spiralled through the air, her wings aflame.

  “Susan!” howled Nigel. “Hold on! I’m coming, by gosh!”

  Nigel dived towards her, weaving to avoid the blasts – but a sunder-beam struck him a glancing blow to the head. Frog clung on as Nigel spun helplessly through the air.

  “AaaaAAAAAaaa—”

  KRUDD!

  Frog clambered painfully to his feet. The glinting black hull of the Farthership seemed to go on forever. He could see flashes of colour dotted all about – the bodies of injured bragons. He spun around to see Nigel lying a few paces away, his wounds still smoking.

  “Nigel!” Frog cried, limping over to him. “Get up! We have to get you out of here!”

  “All out of air … truth be told,” the bragon whimpered through the cacophony of sunder-beams. “Go… They’re coming…”

  Frog turned and saw a dozen Kroakan troopers racing across the surface of the ship towards them. He drew his sword.

  “I’m not going anywhere!” he screamed, as the Kroakans surrounded them. “I’ll take you all on!”

  “I’m afraid that’s not an option, Your Majesty,” said the foremost Kroakan. She was tall and muscular, with distinctive horns above her eyes and striped green skin. “King Kroak has ordered us to bring you in alive and unharmed.”

  “Tell King Kroak to stuff his head in his armpit and sniff it!” roared Frog.

  “How vivid,” the Kroakan noted. “Let us try again – my name is Major Krung, and I give you two choices. One, surrender with immediate effect – and your army is free to leave. Or two, maintain your defiance, and watch this creature – watch all these creatures – perish.”

  “Run … Frog…” wheezed Nigel. “They’ll blow up … the world … anyway…”

  “I…” said Frog. The shriek of sunder-beams rung in his ears.

  “Last chance, Your Majesty,” said Major Krung. She aimed her sunder-gun at Nigel’s head.

  “Wait!” Frog cried. “I… I surrender.”

  “One more time, my Prince,” said Major Krung, cupping her hand to her earhole. “The roar of battle and all that…”

  “I surrender!” cried Frog. “I surrender!”

  “I thought that’s what you said,” said Major Krung. With that, she swung the butt of her sunder-gun into Frog’s head, and he fell unconscious to the floor.

  The King’s Happy Place

  Frog opened his eyes. He found himself floating helplessly in the void of outer space, an endless ocean of blackness speckled with stars and planets.

  “Not again … this is the UnSlumber, as sure as turnips are turnips!” he groaned. “Well, you may as well wake me up now, King Kroak! ’Cause whatever it is you want to blah on about, I don’t want to hear it!”

  “Ah, but this is different,” said a voice. King Kroak floated past, clad in his familiar black cloak and crown. “This isn’t your UnSlumber, Frog. It’s mine.”

  “I don’t care!” Frog snarled. “Are the bragons all right? You said you’d let them go!”

  “Who, those flying whatsits?” said King Kroak, spinning upside down. “I let them run off to lick their wounds. They’ll be fine … until I blow up this world, of course.”

  “That’s not going to happen!” barked Frog. “I’m going to defeat your face in!”

  “Pfff – didn’t you just surrender?” scoffed King Kroak. “Anyway, the reason I brought you into my UnSlumber is because I want to show you all this – my happy place!” He waved his arm across the vastness of space, dotted with planets. “You see these worlds? I’ve conquered them all!”

  “I’m not talking to you, so shut up,” insisted Frog.

  “You’ll get nowhere with that attitude, young man,” said King Kroak. He reached out a hand for a distant planet and plucked it from space, like taking fruit from a tree. He held the world in his hand. “You see this? This is Kroakworld Four Zero Six. And I want you to have it!”

  Frog squealed as King Kroak tossed the planet towards him.

  “Yoiks! Careful with that!” Frog cried, just managing to catch it in his right hand.

  “Have this one, too!” The King plucked another planet from space and pitched it to Frog. Then he grabbed yet more planets from their orbits and tossed them at Frog. “And this one! And this! And this red one!”

  “Stop!” Frog howled, by now juggling an armful of worlds.

  “And not just those,” King Kroak said with a smile. “Right now, there are a thousand new worlds falling to the Kroakan Empire. A whole universe of worlds. And, in time, I want you to have them all
.”

  “I don’t want them!” barked Frog.

  “Yes, you do! Don’t forget I’ve seen your dreams, Frog!” laughed King Kroak. “You can’t fight your destiny…”

  “I’m not like you!” roared Frog. He tried to get away, kicking out with mighty legs, but there was nothing to push against.

  “Hey, here’s a big one!” cried King Kroak, grabbing a planet twice as big as any other. “Why, it’s Kroakas itself – the royal home world! And it’s all yours!”

  With that, King Kroak threw the planet as hard as he could at Frog’s head.

  “Hey! Don’t—”

  BUNK!

  The Real King Kroak

  “OW!”

  Frog sat up. He was on a high bed in an almost luminous white room. He was dressed in a new suit of bright white Kroakan armour, that fitted him like a glove and smelled of fresh laundry.

  “What the … what?” Frog mumbled. He spotted a small circular window in the wall and peered out. Far below he could see the Inbetween, glistening silver. “Where am I? This had better not be more UnSlumber, I’m sick of all that real or not real bumdrops!”

  “I can assure you, the Farthership is very real,” said a voice.

  At the far end of the room the doorway was open. Major Krung was flanked by two troopers. They were all dressed in bright white versions of their Kroakan armour. The major was holding Basil Rathbone. She held out the sword to Frog. “Here you are. Your weapon has been decontaminated … as have you. King Kroak is very particular about foreign particles.”

  “Is it true?” Frog began, taking his sword. “Did King Kroak let the bragons go?”

  “They’re safe … for now,” Major Krung replied. “Please come with me.”