His eyes bulged, his lips were bulbous, and his chin - if it could be identified as that - drooped and dragged in the dirt as he occasionally, but very rarely, pushed himself along, the quite ugly toad's much preferred preference being the lily pad upon which he now reclined, though how his overlarge body - way too overlarge body which had long since become too large to hop - was supported by the lily pad which strained beneath his weight was a mystery to the lovely young maiden who sat nearby on the shore.

Day after day the lovely young maiden had come from the castle to the pond to enjoy the deep voice of the frog, and hour after pleasant hour, they talked and laughed and just found the other sweet to be with.

She found him delightful and, over time, even somewhat believable, although his claim one day that he was really a handsome prince and that he only needed a kiss from a lovely maiden to break the curse so as to reveal his true identity seemed quite a stretch not to mention a hop, a skip, and a jump, none of which this frog could do.

They would even go for walks - well, she walked, he dragged himself along - and it was on one of those treks that they reached her car which she entered and prepared to drive off for her scheduled car maintenance appointment and tire rotation.

She turned to wave goodbye, but the frog was gone.

George Strait was crooning one of her favorite love songs "I Cross My Heart" as she headed down the highway and she sang along to the words "As we look into the future it's as far as we can see, So let's make each tomorrow be the best that it can be."

The ugly toad and his claim to fame came to mind.

After a bit the car maintenance guy said her car was ready to go, oil changed, all fluids checked, tires rotated but then he asked if she could come see a matter of concern they had identified.

On the left rear tire, splayed across all the treads were the remains of a frog.

Olive-green folds of skin, quite flat limbs akimbo, webbed toes identifiable but attached to legs now of considerably longer length than what might have once been, the blotch, the blemish, the smear - like a giant Mr. Yuk sticker - elicited from the lovely young maiden such a cry of anguish that had not the car maintenance guy caught her she would have fainted to the floor.

She did not remember much on the way home though she did think, as she passed the grocery store, that she could use a head of lettuce but then the thought of the chopped green fluffy bite-sized slices recalled the sight of the tire on which the overlarge green frog remains thumped as she drove, kind of like the lump in her throat.

Then there it came again, a cry of anguish so loud that the truck in the lane next to her swerved into and then out of her lane, the driver's face alarmed at her scream that he had just heard, his face the epitome of shock.

Coming within inches of losing control of her car, she looked then at the truck retreating in her rearview mirror.

The truck was olive-green.

Finally home she collapsed by her car in her driveway.

A most terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day it had been for sure.

"Miss? Miss?"

Finally, her weeping subsiding, she heard a voice, a deep voice, a sweet voice, a voice that sounded familiar.

Brushing away the tears she saw, there before her, a toad that could talk.

His eyes bulged, his lips were bulbous, and his chin - if it could be identified as that - drooped to the edge of the driveway upon which his overlarge body had plopped itself down.

He explained then that he had had to be sure she was the one. The green blotch on her tire was a toy store frog that was not real. Her tears were real however he observed and quite clearly came from a heart that reflected a love the abandonment of which he so desperately wanted as he would not accept a kiss from just any lovely young maiden.

And with that she grabbed him and planted a kiss on his lips that would have turned any frog into a prince, curse or not.