Chapter Two - The Insurance Salesman

Fifteen years had passed since Frogfucius had found Mallow washed up in the pond. Raising Mallow was a tough chore, and it had made Frogfucius much more tired and cranky. Very often, he would spend his nights looking through his telescope at the stars. In fact, that's exactly what he was doing tonight.

"Well, I'll be darned," he whispered to himself, spotting something very strange -- a huge sword sticking out of the top of Bowser's Keep. "What is that...?"

"Hey, Grandpa," said Mallow excitedly, rushing up to Frogfucius, "what're you looking at?"

Frogfucius turned around, startled. He hated when Mallow snuck up on him like that.

"Nothing, Mallow," he replied, putting his telescope away where he knew Mallow couldn't get to it. It was one of the only treasures of his that Mallow had not broken or lost. "Well, it's almost bedtime, and I'm tired..."

"But I'm not!" Mallow said indignantly. "Can't I do something for you? I have to stay in this pond all the time! I want to go to Mushroom Kingdom or something!"

"Maybe tomorrow," Frogfucius murmured, lying down carefully -- at his age, he had to do pretty much everything carefully.

"You always say that!" Mallow complained. "All I want to do is -- huh? Who are you?"

He had noticed somebody approaching the island from the other side of the pond. It was a fat little Mushroom person, swinging a briefcase in one hand.

"Hi there!" he said, waving. "Are you the homeowner here?"

"No," replied Mallow blankly. "Why--"

"Then you, sir, must be the man I'm looking for," the Mushroom person said happily, cutting Mallow off and pointing at the nearly-asleep Frogfucius. "You are Mister Frogfucius Hopalot, correct?"

"What?" Frogfucius groaned, sitting up. "My last name isn't Hopalot--"

"Whatever, let's not split hairs," the Mushroom person interrupted. He hopped onto a lily pad, which carried him across the pond to Frogfucius's island. "I've come here to ask you one question--what would your family do if you died suddenly, before you'd had a chance to plan your funeral arrangements? They would PANIC, that's what, and they would be unable to pay the hefty price that your sudden death would bring. I'm here to prevent that."

Frogfucius and Mallow stared at him, bewildered. But the Mushroom person didn't seem fazed at all. He hopped off his lily pad and onto the island, allowing himself to sit down.

"I'm letting you in, Mr. Hopalot, on a very special deal for senior citizens. If you purchase our full life insurance package, you will covered for nearly every death cause imaginable! Flood, fire, earthquake, tornado, drought, sandstorm, explosion, murder, you NAME it!"

"I don't want life insurance," said Frogfucius irritably. "I'm not planning on dying."

"Oh, that's what everybody says! But you could die TOMORROW. Did you know that? I'll bet you didn't!"

"Look, Mister," said Mallow angrily, "my Grandpa doesn't want life insurance!"

"Fine," the Mushroom person snarled, dropping his cheerful demeanor at once. "Then I'll just have to go to 'Plan B'."

He reached behind him and unzipped what appeared to be the zipper to his jacket. But wait a minute -- weren't zippers supposed to be on the FRONT of jackets?

"Hey, what's the big idea?" Mallow asked incredulously.

The Mushroom person's skin fell to his ankles, as though his pants had come unbuttoned. But the man wasn't really a Mushroom person -- he was a mean- looking crocodile. He snatched up his briefcase, opened it, and pulled out a heavy burlap sack, possibly filled with money.

"Gimme your money, bub," he said fiercely, advancing on Frogfucius. He reached into his bag and pulled out a Bob-Omb the size of a baseball. "Unless you wanna spend your retirement years in pieces."

"Hey!" Mallow shouted. He swung a fist at the crocodile's scaly face, but missed.

Terrified, Frogfucius reached into his pocket and pulled out the only thing he had that a criminal would want to steal -- his precious frog coin.

"Take it," he stammered, tossing the coin to him. "Just don't hurt anyone."

"Grandpa, no!" said Mallow. "That's your frog coin!"

"For a old guy, you're smart," the crocodile snickered, stuffing the precious coin into his heavy sack, along with the Bob-Omb. "Name's Croco. I'll see ya later, if I ever need more cash."

With the help of the many lily pads, Croco hopped his way across the pond and scurried away. He was much too fast for Frogfucius or even Mallow to catch him, and even so, they would have no way of defending themselves against Bob-Ombs.

"I don't believe it," Frogfucius said incredulously.

"I'll get even with him!" said Mallow furiously, stomping the ground with his right foot. "I'll get your coin back, Grandpa! I swear I will!"

"Don't be silly, Mallow," Frogfucius replied, placing a hand on Mallow's fluffy shoulder. "Let's just go to bed and forget about this."

And so they did. After all, it was a gorgeous night. But Mallow didn't get much sleep. He lay awake most of the night, thinking about that Croco thief. How could someone steal a priceless heirloom from an old man? Mallow did not know where to look, but he wanted to find that Croco and get even, like he promised...