Our poor little frog Smacky has been murdered.
Or at least mutilated.
It's a sad tale, indeed.
We came home from work the other day and he was split in twain. In twain, I tell you!
I'm blaming it on the paper boy.
The thing is, we don't even read the paper. It just piles up on our front porch. My brother says he canceled the subscription since he never has time to read it, but it keeps coming. And coming, and coming. Papers everywhere. It's ridiculous.
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