Toad...Or Hypno-Toad?

So I was perusing the frog display at my local Hobby Lobby the other day.

There's a sentence that just doesn't get uttered often enough.

ONE-QUARTER of the freakishly large frog selection available at Hobby Lobby.

Since Hobby Lobby is a very Goddy store - not open on Sundays, and you can buy mints with little Bible verses on them if you think that fresh breath will help you get into Heaven - I can only presume that Jesus really, really likes frogs. And Anne Geddes prints.

No one ever accused our Lord and Savior of knowing shit about art.

So anyway, there's this huge green mountain of frogs at Hobby Lobby. Frogs for your lawn, frogs for your garden, frogs for your table. All doing more or less cute, whimsical, froggy things.

Except this one, which seems to have encountered
a genetic malfunction in the zygotal phase.
I don't know, maybe you're an aficionado of that niche market.

They have a lot of goddamn frogs, is what I'm saying. In fact, what initially drew me to the Frogstravaganza was the sight of the elusive Left-Handed Singing Cowboy Frog.

"I fell into a burning swamp of flies..."

All frogs are left-handed musicians, of course.

Including Kermit, shown here playing (ahem)
"Froggy Mountain Breakdown."

I appreciated the anatomical accuracy. What can I say, I'm a bit of a muscial frog snob.

But then something sitting next to Green Autry caught my eye. (OK, I'll stop with the frog puns. Soon. Unless I think of another one.)

Of course it caught my eye. It was...Hypnotoad!

All glory to the Hypnotoad. Er, and Jesus. Yeah.

Clever Hypnotoad, assuming a realistic molded-resin frog appearance to blend in among the lesser Earth creatures of its species. Before I knew it, I was in thrall to its bulbous, pulsating eyes. I might have stood there forever, awaiting its hypnotic commands to do its glorious bidding, when I was saved by a vision from above.

Saved by...Rasta Gnome.

At first I thought it was Jesus, because of the sandals
and the beard. But everyone knows Jesus wasn't black.

Having successfully broken free of the mesmerizing gaze of the incognito Hypnotoad, I was able to get the frog out of there. It was a frightening experience. Next time I go to Hobby Lobby, I'll steer clear of the frog display. After that, I wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot tadpole.

OK, I'm done with the puns. Really. I'm not amphibian.

It was one of Hypnotoad's.