Once upon a time there was a little frog swimming. This princess came up and kissed him. Got right down in the mud and fucked up her dress to kiss the handsome little frog. He was a charming frog. She kissed him right on the head. He was like, “Wrong species, lady, men are in aisle six.” She was offended. “Ungrateful…” she muttered as she walked off.
The frog didn’t change. He stayed the same. That’s redundant, but so was the frog, for he had a twin. But the twin was not a frog. He was a man. I don’t remember what their mom and dad were. Probably a devil’s food cake and a red velvet cake, I don’t know, it’s fucked up.
The princess walked over to aisle six, for in those days nature was organized into neat rows. Sure enough, aisle six was lousy with men. Men all sitting on shelves, playing cards and cursing and doing whatever it is men do when they’re stacked six high on both sides. Just passing the time, waiting for a princess. The princess walked down the aisle, thinking, “What a stupid story, Christ I hate my job,” referring to her occupation as a character in a story, when she stumbled upon a man who was not sitting on a shelf like he was supposed to. The man was actually standing there in the middle of the aisle, spouting shitty old pick-up lines.
“Nice shoes. Do you have a quarter? Did it hurt?” the man babbled, grabbing on his nuts.