"...Frankie? Hey, Frankie?"
The caretaker in question didn't even need to glance up from her computer to investigate who her surprise visitor was; she'd recognize that familiar shrill squeak just about anywhere.
"Yeah, Goo?" Frances "Frankie" Foster answered absentmindedly as she kept her attention fixated on her efforts to update the Foster's website. "What is it? You need something?"
Even through she was a bit distracted, the preoccupied young woman's tone was nevertheless cordial and welcoming, and the little girl immediately interpreted it as permission to enter the bedroom.
"This won't take long, I promise!" Goo jabbered in assurance as she scampered in from the doorway. "Super itty-bitty quick question; you got a spare shoebox or something I could use, or anything like that? Please?"
"Huh?" Frankie murmured, swiveled about in her seat and shot the child a quizzical glance. "Shoebox?"
"Yeah!" The little one chirped excitedly. "Nothing special, just a plain ol' cardboard shoebox, or something like that. Do you have one? A spare? Maybe?"
The redhead paused and fidgeted with her ponytail as she thoughtfully mulled the peculiar request over. "Hmmm…I think I might have one…I'm not exactly sure…what do you need it for, a school diorama or something?"
"Nope! Nuh-uh!!" Goo's pigtails flailed about like three whips as she shook her head furiously. "I just need somethin' to hold Floyd in, see, 'cuz-"
"Floyd?" Frankie repeated confusedly as she cocked an eyebrow. It was at that point however that she spotted the peculiar greenish-brown object lying tightly clamped in the child's grip. Sensing the young woman's curiosity, without further ado Goo promptly took a few steps closer and lifted her arms up to reveal-
"Oh! Oh, I get it!" The caretaker filled the room with her warm, tinkling laughter once she took a good look at the large bullfrog in Goo's hands. "Floyd, huh? Where'd you catch him, out back?"
"Nope, in my front yard late one night 'bout a month ago!" Goo answered proudly before bursting into the inevitable stream of jovial chatter. "See, it was just after dinner and I was trying to catch some fireflies, see, and I was running and running and running around and around but before I could catch anything I heard a big loud croak like a foghorn went off, and luckily I had a mayonnaise jar with me at the time but anyway that's not that important long story short is I need a small box or something and it doesn't have to be one that held shoes I just need one for-"
"Sure, sure, no problem!" Frankie chuckled at the irrepressible child. "Now, I think I have an old shoebox under my bed somewhere-"
"I can get it!" Goo beamed and enthusiastically volunteered. "I can go get it, Frankie! Just sit there and lemme go get it, okay? Just hold Floyd for me, will you? For just a minute? Please? He's not that gross or anything, and I won't take long-"
"Oh, please!" Frankie scoffed. "When I was your age I caught many of these and brought them inside the rabbit accused me trying to turn the house into an indoor lagoon. Ha! Drove Old Fuzz-Butt up completely up the wall. Trust me, I've had my fair share of experience handling these, just lemme…there we go, nice and easy…"
The second the frog had been smoothly handed off, the little girl was off like a bullet an in an instant she had disappeared from sight as she rooted about under the bed, while Frankie waited patiently as she expertly kept the frog in a tight grasp. While she did so, she couldn't help but admit that her firm grip was quite unnecessary; how that child had managed to get it to be so tame and docile she doubted she'd ever figure it out, although it was better that she be a tad confused rather than fumbling about with a slippery frog.
"Wow," the young woman couldn't help but exclaim as she examined the unusually obedient amphibian as it sat compliantly in the palms of her hands. "I honestly don't think I've seen dogs this well-trained." She admitted truthfully.
"Yeah, I spent a lotta, lotta, lotta time working with him!" Goo squeaked as she suddenly clambered back out into the open, while triumphantly displaying a slightly battered shoebox in hand.
"Oh, it shows." Frankie complimented kindly as she gently placed "Floyd" into the box, causing girl to light up from ear to ear with an enormous toothy smile. .
"It was mostly training for racing him and stuff, but he was always really good when I hid his mealworms and he'd halfta find them, yup, got it every time!" she boasted proudly. "Oh, thanks a lot, Frankie! I've been asking and asking everyone around the house, but until now it felt like no one had ever, ever, ever seen a shoebox before in their whole entire lives, much less have one lying around and-"
"Well, most of the friends don't exactly shoes, y'know." The caretaker teased. "Oh, careful! Don't just set the top of the box on, punch some air holes in it first so-"
Immediately Goo burst out giggling uncontrollably like an absolute nitwit, and shook so much with mirth it was as if the suggestion had been the most ridiculous thing she had heard in her entire life.
"Huh?" An immensely baffled Frankie grunted stupidly. "Wait, what's so funny? What'd I say?"
"The thing about the air holes, silly!" Goo managed to explain through her laughter. "Hahahaha! Air holes? If I put in those, then dirt would get into the box when I'd-"
"Whoa, whoa, dirt?" The woman replied incredulously as her mind reeled with bewilderment. "Wait, are you telling me that…wait, wait, are you actually going to bury that poor thing?"
"Well, duh!" Goo laughed and flashed a toothy smirk, as if it was so obvious. "What else would I do with a frog that's been dead since yesterday?"
The moment the buoyant-spirited child innocently stated the unthinkably hideous truth, instantly all the color drained from Frankie's face, and she became so deathly pale and rigid in her initial shock, she looked just about ready to be slipped into a coffin and dumped under six feet of earth. For a few horrendously quiet moments, the slack-jawed caretaker didn't make a sound other than a poorly stifled gag as she fought to comprehend the ungodly fact that a minute earlier she had been handling a lifeless corpse.
However, Goo failed to notice the abrupt chance in the mortified twenty-two-year-old's demeanor as she joyously examined the shoebox.
"Oh, this is perfect!" she gushed happily. "It's exactly what I needed! And I know just the spot I'll bury it, too! I was thinking about doing it right near the stream in the woods behind my house, 'cuz Floyd always liked it when-"
Goo continued to gleefully admire her newly acquired makeshift coffin, while completely unaware of the fact that she had been casually chatting with an empty swivel chair for the last twenty seconds.
Frankie had long since evacuated the bedroom, and was now sprinting headlong at a frantic sprint towards the nearest bathroom. As she hurtled along, the absolutely revolted young woman quivered uncontrollably with unrivaled revulsion and elicited piteous squeaks of unfathomable disgust.
"Ew…ew…ew…touched a dead frog…gross…gross…gross…ewie…ewie…yuck…" she whined softly to herself as she rushed to purge herself of any lingering traces of decomposing amphibian. Fortunately, in just a matter of seconds the wild dash was over, and after skidding to a halt in front of the bathroom door, she hastily barged in,
"Oh…for the love of…"
…And immediately she spotted a certain eight-year-old boy and his azure imaginary friend, both standing over the sink and cleansing themselves furiously. Immediately Frankie feebly suggested to herself that it was just a coincidence, but such hopes became mercilessly dashed when Mac glanced up, saw the traces of revolted shock in her expression, and whimpered softly,
"…You met Floyd too?"
She stared silently in disbelief at her two comrades in misery, nodded wordlessly, an in a flash was elbowing her way roughly in between the two.
"Gimme that soap!" she yelped hoarsely as she snatched it clean from Mac's hands and began lathering so fiercely it looked as if she was about to take off a layer of skin with her ferocious scrubbing.
"Oh, no way!" the boy growled as he immediately tried to seize it back. "She had me hold that thing for about fifty minutes while we looked for a stupid shoebox for her!"
"Oh, yes way!" Frankie grunted as they swiftly erupted into a fierce tug-of-war over the soap bar. "You've already had your turn, mister! I just got here!"
"I was touching it for almost an hour! How long did you have it for?" he snapped crossly, obviously hardly in any mood for courtesy. "I doubt it!"
"Mac, give it! Give it, Mac!" she just demanded fiercely with an animalistic snarl.
"OW! No pinching!" he cried before reaching for her ponytail as they descended into outright barbarism. "Okay, if that's the way you wanna fight-"
"There'll be plenty more where that came from if you don't fork over the-"
"Will you two cut it out?" Bloo glared daggers at the two and moodily reprimanded them. "For cripes sake, Goo said it's only been dead for about a day. So what if you got your fingers on it? Pfft! Big deal! Go cry me a river!"
Frankie glowered at the little blob and hissed. "Oh yeah? Well if it's not so bad, then what are you doing in here with…the…th-the…oh…dear God…."
The young woman's rage suddenly evaporated to make room for an overwhelming sense of unfathomable horror as soon as she realized precisely where the imaginary friend was carrying out his own frenzied purging.
Before Mac knew it, the mortified redhead had clapped a lathery hand tightly over his mouth, and before he could even so much as elicit a muffled whimper of surprise, she bent over and whispered frantically,
"The soap's all yours, pal. Just please, for the love of God, don't tell me why Bloo's brushing his tongue…"
The End
