Frog's Forgets or Lotto Lesson

"There's nothing like a warm bug on a cold midday evening", the frog sat in his heated-seat and laughed at his phrasing. The frog would often sit in his car and say all sorts of funny things. He chuckled in his alone-ity. He knew his humor would die if it was ever observed or inspected by outside eyes.

He hopped all around town in his little green car, imagining all the stores he could go to if he won the lottery. "I'd have a coffee every day and give a homeless man $5". If only he could come into possession of several million dollars, then he could make this dream a reality. His expression soured as he remembered that doctors, lawyers, and petty thieves could afford such follies without being forced to perform inhuman 41-hour workweeks.

He pulled the car into a teeny tiny parking spot. He peeled his sticky frog fingers from the wheel and snatched his phone from the cupholder. "Wouldn't want a homeless guy sending text messages", he thought casually and without hesitation. The light from the corner store was dim and flickering.

Daylight saving savings time legislation ensured that the sun would set no later than 1pm. Frog was not a voter, so this didn't affect him in the slightest. It had no effect on his mood, his circadian rhythms, his sense of humor, or his secret inner pains. "What's anything?", Frog would often remark to his co-workers.

The store had lots of fresh fruit that day, but it was all pedestrian shit; navel oranges and red delicious apples, disgusting. Frog wandered past various chips claiming to 'give a shit' or encouraging him to 'have just one'. There was only one thing that Frog truly required. He knew that beer would soothe his soul. He wandered to the back and gazed into the fridge. Through the frosty haze, he spotted it, a beer so malty, hoppy and pretentious that everyone would see him as the tortured genius he knew himself to be.

He opened his wallet to check the funding situation. A racist war-criminal stared back at him. He lifted the big can with all his might, much like how one lifts up the family dog to assert dominance. He placed the can on the floor next to the Charleston Chews and hopped onto the counter. As if caused by Frog's jump, a flurry of blaringly loud notification sounds flew out of the cashier's top-of-the-line flagship phone. The cashier stood motionless for a moment. He was likely contemplating a clever comeback for the group chat, Frog thought innocently.

The cashier sprang to life suddenly, he slammed his phone face-down on the counter. "Will this be cash or credit?", the cashier recited. Frog thought hard for a moment and unfurled a crisp, fresh war-criminal on the counter. The cashier took the cash and in one motion gathered $4.92 in change from the register. Frog snapped out of his transactionary trance. "Damn", he muttered under his breath. That was his MegaMillions money, squandered. A deep well of regret began to form inside him.

Frog cried out softly in his stupidity, but the cashier could not hear him because he was listening to pornography too loud in his Airpods. It felt as though his dream of having a simple life was dashed completely and utterly. Taking his receipt, Frog slowly meandered out the store, under the jangling bells, like a sad clown with oversized shoes.

"Funny phrase", he remarked when he was alone in his car again. He tried on several inflections and settled on the one where he was nearly screaming. He made a slight right onto the main thoroughfare as he laughed softly to himself. Maybe things weren't all bad, after all he did have a tasty brew and enough laughs for a lifetime.

The moral of this story, children, is to always gamble when you can. Frog should have scrimped and saved a bit more so he could have a better chance at the good life. He was a fool for engaging in any other vice.

So next time you have a choice between cash and credit, always pay with credit! Remember, lottery tickets can only be purchased with cash! Don't make the same mistake as Frog!