Ahoy mateys, last time we is left that ship sailing along under Bird Power. Which be steady, but sl-o-o-o-o-o-w. The passengers be clumping together and muttering like as if they be brewing up a mutiny.
But the captain he be one smart macaroon. He sez to them he sez, “Arr, but ye be a mixed bag o’ kree-turs. I bet you all gots you stories about why you be on me ship. Let’s hear ‘em.”
A bullfrog hopped forward. “Call me MZ, Spokesfrog – er, Croaksfrog. Here’s our story. Once upon a time we were happy in our pond, sitting on our lily pads and eating flies. Then word got around that witches were turning princes and princesses into frogs. Suddenly the pond was full of puckered-up fortune hunters hoping to bag rich royalty.”
“Those sloppy smackers were bad enough. But it was even worse when they stomped away going, ‘Shoot, it’s just a frog,’ like being a frog wasn’t good enough. We’re so over that. We want a place where it’s not a curse to be a frog.”
Shouts of “We hear you, brother!” “Frogs rule!” “Frogs forever!” spread around the ship, along with stomping and flapping and wagging and clapping. MZ wiped away a tear.
So did the captain. “Stap me vitals, that be one heck of a story,” he said, “So who’s next?”
“Awwwk, and that would be me.”