Episode 1: Fester has Ideas

Fester & Myron are brothers. And -- I almost forgot to tell you! -- they are frogs. 

Fester is older, and you could say, the wiser of the two. But he is a little bad-tempered. At times. Is he an outright grouch? No, I wouldn't go that far. Yet it is too often true that Fester festers. What can you do? He is also grumpy, sometimes.

Myron is the minor, of the two. One is tempted to say that he is also minor in other ways, but that is not a thing one should say! Let us confine ourselves to saying, just between us, and in a nice way, that he is gullible. As you will see. Sweet, gullible Myron. Oh did I forget sensitive? He is sensitive.

See them here:

Can you tell which is which? 

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It was a nice afternoon in the pond. Fester and Myron were sitting upon separate lily pads, a few feet apart from each other. And remember, they are frogs! Ordinary frogs, one supposes. 

Time passes, as time will do, whether you let it, or you don't let it, or you pay it no mind. 

But wait! Just when you, Dear Reader, weren't looking -- perhaps, forgivably, you were thinking that nothing much is happening -- Myron, in his very froggy way, jumps into the water! Kersplosh! Said the water.  A little bit of time passes, during which nothing happens. In fact, no sound is heard. Then, sure enough, and not without further splashing, even if the splashes are quite small in comparison with the ones we just heard, out of the water comes Myron (who did you expect? Honestly!). He climbs up on Fester's lily pad, and plonks himself down next to him. 

Myron -- its's always Myron! -- begins: "Fester?"

"What?", replies Fester, grumpily (as he so often is!). 

"What'cha doin?" 

 

"What's it to you?"

"Well ... um ... I don't know!"

  

"I don't either," Fester replies. 

"Huh? Don't know what? C'mon, Fester, what'cha doin?"

"I said I don't know!"

 

"Oh."

Time passes, as time will do, whether you let it, or you don't let it, or pay it no mind. 

"I'm bored," announces Myron.  

Fester does not respond. 

Myron blew a bubble. But a non-popping bubble. So far. It just perched there, like a golf ball, between Myron's nostrils. For now.

But Fester, uncharacteristically it must be said, now punctuates the silence: "... hmm ..."

"Yeah? Fester?" (Excitedly! For it was quite unusual, that Fester should initiate a conversation with Myron.)

"Well ... er, ... I was just thinkin'", Fester says.  

Then, at just the right moment, and suddenly -- as if such a thing could have happened other than suddenly -- the bubble popped!

"Really?"

 

"Yeah."

"Thinkin'?"

"That's what I said, Myron. Thinkin'."

 

"Oh, right." 

... [pause] ...

"So, c'mon, Fester!"

 

"What?"

 

"What was you thinkin'?"

  

Fester rolled his eyes. "Really?" 

A frog's eyes, you see, are rather effective when rolled, and no self-respecting frog needs much excuse to roll them.

"Yes! Really!", said Myron, not without enthusiasm!

"Oh .... criminy! .... All right. I'll try to -- I'll try to explain. What I was thinkin'. Now what was I thinkin'? Thinkin' about. Let me see. Oh yeah. I was thinkin', if you must know, that we should sort out this pond."

"Um, whatcha' mean?"

 "You know, pond improvements. Maintenance. Maybe get rid of some of these leaves, old twigs, and other mucky things. I mean, I don't know about you, but I find it kind of a bother, having to dodge and weave whenever I swim from one side to the other."

 

"Gee, I never thinked that," was Myron's considered reply.  

 

"Yeah, well, duh! Thinking about things is not something I expect of you ...".

"What?"

 

With the rolling of the eyes, Fester replied, "Never mind." 

From now on, I won't tell you when Fester rolls his eyes. You, Dear Reader, will just know!

Fester continued: "Anyway, not today. It's too late. Maybe tomorrow." 

 

"Okay ... Tomorrow. Um ... Um ... so now what?"

 

"Now what what?"

 

"I mean, what are we going to do now, Fester?"

 

"What do you mean, 'What are we going to do now?'"

  

Myron was tickled by this -- although it was unclear to me why Myron was tickled, let alone to you, Dear Reader! I suppose he's unpredictable. 

Myron came out with, "Hee hee! Fester!"

Fester was now flummoxed! "Don't laugh!", said Fester. "I told you I was thinking. I know what's what! I was thinking ... um ... what was I thinking about? ... Doggone it! Fiddlesticks! Lost it. You interrupted me with your silliness! Well, it doesn't matter. I was minding my own business, thinking about something important.  I was having ideas! Ideas, I tell you! And then you jumped onto my lily pad, as usual, and now all that is discombobulated, and we're at sixes and sevens." 

A tiny pause. Myron is thoughtful, you could say. If you wanted to.

Myron now intejects: "But I didn't say anything about ... sixes and sevens! ... And discom ... What?"

"Forget it."

 

"Oh! I know! Is this ... is this a game? A card game?" (Excited) "Are we playing a card game? Go Fish? I like Go Fish!"

 

(Exasperated). "Oh Myron it's impossible to explain anything to you! It's just a figure of speech."

 

"What's that?"

 

"What's what?"

 

"A figure of ... a figure of speech?"

 

"Oh, Dear Lord .... I give up." 

Sometimes Fester speaks as if he were speaking to you, Dear Reader. But he isn't! Not really, and anyway, whoever put such an idea in your head?

Myron is puzzled. Fester is irritated.

Just a smidgen of time passes, as time will do, whether you let it, or you don't let it, or you pay it no mind.

Myron now spoke, although, it must be admitted, a little hesitantly: "Fester?"

 

Still with irritation, he replied "What is it now?"

 

"Do you give up? I mean ... you know ... does it -- the discom-bobble -- is that meaning I win?"

 

"You, win? Don't make me laugh!"

 

"But then" -- he grows perturbed -- "I mean sixes and sevens -- what game are we playing at, Fester?"

 

"Myron! You are the world's most lame-brained, clueless, thickheaded ... "

Myron is hurt! "... But ..."

" ... numbskull I have ever ..."

... *sniffle* .... (a rather big one)

"Oh good grief," said Fester. 

 

... *sniffle* ... (but a lesser sniffle).

"Myron ... Oh Myron I didn't ... I didn't mean ..."

 

 ... *sniffle* ... (a still lesser sniffle).

 

"I didn't mean it, ok? Anyway, Myron ... Um ... I'm, y'know, sorry ... I got ahead of myself ... "

A fly flies by.

Fester looks to the sky.

Myron looks down.

"Oh, if it will make you feel better, I'll tell you what I was thinkin' just the other day." 

Myron brightens, ever so slightly. 

"It's ... it's .... Well, let's face it: We're, y'know,  frogs. That's what we are! Frogs! Which means we might get ideas in our heads, like for whatever I was just thinking about, and such like, but really, we just get to go on being frogs, we get to sit on the best lily pad we can find, if we want to, for most of the day, and just stare, sure, contemplating things and stuff, but only when we feel like it. I mean maybe we have no choice, but it's a pretty nice life, isn't it? It's only boring in spots! I mean exciting or boring, or wise or stupid, who really cares? You are you, and me me!" 

Myron nods his head, and you would say between tears, except frogs do not strictly have tears (being without tear ducts).

 ... *sniffle* (a tiny one).

Myron, recovering his wits somewhat (and this is no time to joke about Myron's wits!), said quietly: "And ... sometimes ... jump in the water and swim."

"Oh Myron. Yeah, that's right. Jump in the water and swim!"

"And sometimes catch flies!" (With a hint of a smile).

"Right!"

"And worms!" (Bigger smile).

"Yes." 

"Saying ribbet ... ribbet....."

"Yeah, and say 'ribbet'." 

Time passes, as time will do, whether you let it, or you don't let it, or you pay it no mind.

Myron sits a little closer.  "... Ribbet ..... ribbet...."

"Yeah, that's the ticket," said Fester. "Ribbet.... ribbet ..."

Myron said "... Ribbet ..."

Fester said "... Ribbet ..."

Then Myron: ".... Ribbet ..... ribbet...."

And Fester: "... Ribbet.... ribbet ...."

Myron: ".... Ribbet ... ribbet ... ribbet ..."

Fester: "... Ribbet.... ribbet ... ribbet ..."

Fester & Myron: "... Ribbet.... ribbet ... ribbet ... ribbet.... ribbet ... ribbet ..."

Simultaneously, identical bubbles formed between the nostrils of each frog.

Exeunt.