The Case of the Tender Cheeping Chickies. John R. Erickson

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СКАЧАТЬ for word. “If that frog’s been there for ten thousand years, wouldn’t it mean that . . . it’s his pond, and not ours?”

      I stared into the vacuum of his eyes. “Drover, how many times have I warned you about asking questions I can’t answer?”

      “I don’t know. Three?”

      “No. Three hundred. I’ve warned you over and over: Never ask questions unless they’ve been approved by the Head of Ranch Security. Do you see what you’ve done?”

      “Not really.”

      “You’ve ruined everything! How can we enjoy a romp in our pond if it’s not our pond?”

      “Well, I guess we could . . . ask the frog’s permission.”

      “What? Ask the frog’s . . . Drover, I will never ask a frog’s permission for anything, never!” I marched a few steps away. My mind was racing over the many details of property law. “Okay, I think I’ve got the answer to this.”

      “Oh, good.”

      “It’s very simple. We’ll approach the frog in a kind and reasonable manner, and we’ll tell him to . . . well . . . move out, leave our pond, and never come back.”

      “Yeah, but what if he doesn’t?”

      “In that case, Drover, we’ll resort to the bottom line of property law. We’ll beat him up. We’re bigger than he is, and we’ve got him outnumbered.”

      “Yeah, and it might be fun, ’cause frogs don’t bite.”

      “Exactly my point. Come on, son, let’s get this thing settled once and for all. The nerve of that frog, trying to steal our pond!”

      We marched down to the banks of Emerald Pond, and sure enough, there he was—a big fat green bullfrog, sitting on the edge of the water. He looked very smug and sure of himself, just the kind of frog who needed a few lessons from the School of Hard Knots.

      I halted our column and gave Drover the signal to be quiet while I did the talking. I moved a few steps closer and gave the frog a friendly smile.

      “Good morning, froggie. Nice day, huh? Listen, bud, I’ve got a little favor to ask. I wonder if you’d mind moving out of our pond and never coming back.” No response. I mean, the frog didn’t even look at me. He just sat there. “Smart guy, huh? Okay, pal, we tried the course of reason. Now we’ll go to sterner measures. Drover, get him!”

      Drover stared at me. “Me? What about the mud?”

      “The mud is muddy. So what? Jump in there and beat him up!”

      “Well, you know, this old leg’s been giving me fits, and I’m not sure—”

      “Drover, this is your big chance to rack up some Combat Points. It’ll look great on your record.”

      “Yeah, but . . . what if he’s really a handsome prince?”

      I couldn’t believe my ears. “A handsome prince! Drover, look at him. Is he handsome?”

      “Well . . .”

      “No. He’s a frog, and he’s even uglier than you.”

      “Yeah, but they can change—I’ve heard all those stories—and if he turned out to be a handsome prince . . . they have swords and knives and . . . oh, my leg! It’s killing me!”

      He began limping around in a circle and then—you won’t believe this part—and then he fell over on his back and began kicking his legs in the air. I heaved a sigh and shook my head.

      “Drover, I’m very disappointed in your behavior.”

      “I know, I’m a failure, but this old leg—”

      “It’s disgraceful beyond words. Okay, I’ll do your dirty work, but I must warn you. This will go into my report.”

      “Oh no, not that!”

      “Yes, Drover, every word of it. I’m sorry, but the world must know that you’re not just an ordinary weenie. You’re a chicken weenie who’s afraid of a frog.”

      “Oh, the guilt! Oh, my leg!”

      “Now pay attention and I’ll give you a few lessons on beating up fat arrogant frogs.” I turned my massive body forty-three degrees to the left and began punching in the targeting data. Behind the computer screen of my mind, I could hear Data Control chewing on the numbers. Then the secret targeting information flashed across the screen.

      Do I dare reveal our targeting codes? They’re pretty complicated and highly classified. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give you a little peek, but don’t go blabbing this stuff around. Here’s the very message that flashed across the screen of my mind:

      “JUMP.”

      There it was! Data Control had crunched all the numbers, and we had our plan of battle locked into the computer, and now it was time to launch the weapon.

      I went into a Deep Crouch Position, sprang upward and outward, and launched myself right into the middle of that . . .

      SPLAT!

      . . . Green yucko mud where the alleged frog had been only seconds before. Do you see the meaning of this? The frog had cheated! Perhaps he had broken into our data systems and desniveled our launch codes and . . .

      He jumped into the water, the hateful thing.

      Okay, this meant War! I pried my nose out of the green yucko mud and whirled around to my assistant. “All right, Drover, we’re moving into Stage Two! Get up off the ground and prepare for Ultrasonic Barking!”

      “You’ve got a mud ball on your nose.”

      “That’s your opinion, Drover, and I’m not interested in your opinions. The impointant pork . . . the imporkant point . . . the important point is that we will surround the pond and unleash a withering barrage of Ultrasonic Barking that will blow the stupid frog right out of the water. Ready? Bark!”

      Boy, you should have seen us in action. It was very impressive. Maybe that frog thought he was safe out there in the middle of the pond, but he’d never seen the elite troops of the Security Division in action. The foolish frog.

      Drover set up his firing position on the north shore of the pond, while I set up on the south shore. Facing each other across the expanse of green water, we loaded up and began launching round after round of deafening, ear-shattering Ultrasonic Barks.

      Minutes passed. Leaves and birds fell from the trees nearby, and one big cottonwood even split in half, no kidding. And out in the middle of the pond, that poor frog . . . well, just floated around and didn’t actually . . .

      “All right, Drover!” I yelled over the roar of the battle. “We’ve given him Stage Two, and now we’re ready to move into Stage Three. Circle the pond and fire off a bark every ten steps. Ready? Let ’im have it!”

      The Stage Three Procedure was even more awesome than Stage Two. I СКАЧАТЬ