Once upon a time there was a beautiful kingdom named FBI. It was ruled by a wise, gentle old man named Jack Crawford. King Crawford had several children, whom he schooled each day in the intricacies of behavioral science. His oldest child, Paul was poised to inherit the crown and spent much of his day planning changes he would make to the Kingdom, namely abolishing the import tax on cornpone country pussy.
The youngest child, Clarice was a bright and beautiful young girl who just wanted to get ahead. But unfortunately, her future was not so bright, hampered by the glass ceiling her father and oldest brother had placed above her.
On sunny days, young Clarice played in the garden, swinging her strand of gold add-a-beads around her finger. One day, Clarice ventured past the garden and into the neighboring swamp where she found a quaint little pond.
Still swinging the string of beads around her finger, she reached down to swat at a mosquito nibbling on her ankle and with a fwoosh, the beads were gone, flung into the pond in front of her.
She ran to the edge of the pond and peered into its murky depths, watching her add-a-beads sink until she could see them no more.
“Oh woe is me,” she cried. “How will I ever get my beads back?”
Just then, an ugly green frog with small, maroon eyes paddled a lily pad towards her. As the lily pad drifted to a stop, the frog brought its back legs up and sat ribbiting in front of her.
“What do you want frog? Go away. I’m very distressed right now.”
“I can see that child. I’ve come to help you.”
“Get away from me you disgusting creature!” The princess shooed the frog. “You can’t help me.”
“Why certainly I can. I saw you drop your lovely beads. I can swim down and get them for you.”
“Hrmph!” The princess crossed her arms in defiance.
“Where do you come from dear?”
“I’m from the Kingdom of FBI. My father is King Crawford,” she sneered at the frog.
“Mmmm...Jack Crawford, really?”
“You know him?”
“Of course. Ol’ Jackie boy and I go way back. Now, will you let me help you?”
“Well...” Princess Clarice fiddled with the buttons on her dress. She really wanted those add-a-beads back, but she wasn’t sure if she should trust an icky frog. But then, he did know her father..“Ok frog. Swim down there and get my beads for me.”
“Not so fast, Princess. First, I will require something in return. Quid pro quo, shall we say?” The frog shot its long tongue out the side of its mouth, capturing a mosquito.
“What could I possibly do for you? I’m a lovely princess and you’re just a frog.”
“What I will require my dear, is a kiss.”
“Eeewww, Gross! I’m not kissing you!”
“Please dear, try to refrain from using that distasteful vernacular of yours. You see, I’m not really a frog. I am a doctor, a psychiatrist to be exact. The evil Witch Chilton turned me into this repugnant form. If you kiss me, I will be transformed back to my true debonair self. Then, after exacting my revenge on the witch, I will whisk you away to the land of Buenos Aries where you will be free from the awful discrimination of your father and brother.”
“You’re really a doctor?”
“Yes. A rather charming and handsome one, I might add.” The frog winked at her.
“What’s your name?”
Hmm...funny name for a frog. God, she really wanted those beads! But kissing a frog was just too...too sickening. “I don’t think I can do it frog...I mean, Hannibal”
“Why don’t you go home and give it some thought, then if you still want those beads come back and see me tomorrow. Fly away now Princess. Fly fly fly.”
As she turned to leave, a nearby frog named Miggs shot his tongue out and caught Princess Clarice right on the cheek, leaving a sticky white slime.
“Aaaahhh,” she screamed.
“Princess Clarice! Princess Clarice!”
Hannibal the frog was calling to her. She turned and ran back to where he sat on his lily pad. In the background, she heard a rhapsody of frogs and crickets chanting something that sounded like “Hannibal the Cannibal! Hannibal the Cannibal!”
“Princess Clarice. I would not have had that happen to you. Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me. Return tomorrow and let me help you. I’ll get your add-a-beads back.
“Leave now. I don’t think Miggs can manage again so soon.”
The next day, Princess Clarice returned to the quaint pond at the edge of the swamp past the outer limits of the beautiful garden of the castle’s back yard.
Hannibal the frog was waiting for her on his lily pad, his head cocked slightly to the side. Near the other end of the pond, she could see the frog Miggs, legs splayed and tied between two cattails. His face had been eaten off.
“Oh goodness me! What has happened to that frog Miggs?” Not that she was disappointed. The display was quite artful in its own way.
“Oh that?” The maroon pupils of Hannibal the frog’s eyes pinwheeled. “Turkey vultures.”
“Turkey vultures did that to him?”
“Yes. They like to have their fun you know,” he ran his long tongue over his lips. "Now Princess, shall we get down to business? Quid pro quo?”
Princess Clarice winced. “Yes, I suppose.” She really wanted those beads back.
“Promise you’ll kiss me? Don’t lie, or I’ll know.”
“Ye-es. Jesus, just get my beads already, will ya?”
The frog dove off his lily pad into the muddy water, and after what seemed like several minutes, he came up with the gold add-a-beads in his mouth. Princess Clarice jumped with glee at the edge of the pond. She reached out to take the beads.
Hannibal the frog barred little sharp white teeth at her. “First the kiss, then you’ll get the beads.”
“Ok, ok.” The princess reached down and picked the frog up in her hands. Scrunching up her face and holding her nose with two fingers, she leaned down and kissed the frog between the eyes.
In an instant, there was a puff of smoke before her and the frog was transformed into a man with dark, slick hair and maroon eyes in an expensive Italian suit.
“Well shit house mouse! You are handsome,” Princess Clarice slapped her hand against her thigh.
The man raised an eyebrow at her. “We will have to work on that vocabulary of yours.” He offered his elbow. “Come dear, let’s be off.”
Princess Clarice strung the beads around her neck and grabbed the Doctor’s arm. Later that night, the couple feasted on the liver of the evil Witch Chilton and the brain of the Princess’ brother Paul, accompanied by a nice Chianti. They moved to the Kingdom of Buenos Aries and lived happily ever after.