Once upon a time, there was a little frog. His name was Albert. Albert was a young frog and he still lived at his mother and father's pad. They were decent people, though their rules could be strict. They drove him crazy sometimes, but whose parents are ever normal?
So, one day, Albert went to a rave located in the cattails. A skunk was throwing it, and nobody should trust a skunk. But peter was a decent fellow and Albert had lent him five bucks, so it would be cool. Also, it was Wednesday and you'd be surprised how boring Wednesdays could be in the lake. Bingo night is no place for a young frog to be.
Since he wasn't very popular, (green really wasn't his color) he spent majority of his time grooving in the loser wall. He didn't take the mushroom that most of the other animals were taking. He knew what they could do to your life and your brain.
A water bug (who was being particularly belligerent and malicious too) noticed Albert and commenced to pick on him. All the other animals joined in the laugher (including peter, that inconsiderate bitch). Albert, who was normally very stolid in such situations, started to cry and swam away. He was on his way home, he was thinking about how he had lied to his parents to come here. And he had only been humiliated. It was a waste of a perfectly decent lie too. How many times can you tell your parents you got a goldfish-walking job that your not going to charge for, because the people are elderly and you felt bad?
He may have lied and cheated his way here, but he was proud to say he didn't have to lie about not doing any substances or giving into peer pressure. He didn't mate, he didn't do drugs, and he didn't-Suddenly, an unseen motorboat passed and ripped Albert to ribbons. His thoughts and worries disappeared as quickly as his mass sank to the bottom of the lake.
Moral of the story: never swim during duck season