This frog was named Frank.
Frank was sad.
No one wanted to hang out with Frank.
Frank didn't know why.
Frank was nice to everyone.
People would say stuff to Frank like:
"Oh, Frank! You're so funny!"
"You're so fun to be around!"
"You're so positive and nice!"
Despite this, no one asked Frank to hang out.
One day, Frank thought to ask another frog, Sally, why no one wanted to hang out with him.
"Why does no one want to hang out with me?" Frank asked.
"What are you talking about?" Sally replied.
"Well, no one wants to hang out with me," Frank reiterated.
"That's not true," Sally said.
"Do you want to hang out?" Frank said.
"Oh, I'm really busy," Sally said. "Sorry."
So Frank decided to be happy by himself. He immersed himself in art. Frank the Frog really liked painting. He spent all day painting.
"Hey, Billy," he said to Billy one day. "Do you want to see my paintings? They're really neat!"
"No thanks," Billy replied.
So Frank let Billy go.
Frank really liked his artwork though, so he hung it up all over the pond to stare at.
"Hey Billy," Maven said. She was the queen of the pond. No one had elected her, but somehow she was the queen. "Your art is annoying. Please take it down."
"But I like it!" Frank replied.
"You need to take it down," Maven said. "Or I'll take it down for you."
Frank was sad and confused. He loved painting so much, but it only made other people upset. He wanted to keep painting, but the paintings he already had took up so much space in his corner that he didn't have any more space to paint if he didn't hang up his paintings.
Then Frank had an idea.
"Hey everybody," Frank said as loudly as he could to his pond community. "I have these paintings on canvases. Does anyone want them?"
Don, one of the older frogs swam up to Frank.
"Sure, Frank," Don said. "This would make a great stand for my lizard cage."
Don took the paintings from Frank and stacked them up. He tied twine around them and swam off back home.
Frank was now sitting on his lily pad alone. He didn't have his paintings that made him happy, but at least now he had space to make more paintings.
Frank decided this was stupid.
He packed up his paints and set off on a journey to Amberdash, a place where lots of people paint.
He set up his painting things. Finally, people who like painting!
"Sorry," a policefrog said, walking up to him. "You're going to have to leave. We don't have room for you here."
"But--" Frank stammered.
Frank stumbled off. He was confused. He loved painting, but no one loved him. Maybe Frank was actually a monkey! Maybe no one had told him!
So he climbed up a tree.
For some reason, he figured it out. He didn't know how he'd figured it out, but he managed to climb up the tree.
"Hey, what's going on?" a monkey asked him. "I'm Seymour."
"I'm Frank," Frank said.
"Are you a monkey?" Seymour asked.
"I'm not sure," Frank said.
"Cool, bro. Cool," Seymour replied.
Seymour got a look at Frank's paints.
"Whoa, man," Seymour said. "Paints are not cool. If you want to hang with us, you need to sing."
"Yeah, like, 'Ahhhhhh,'" Seymour sang. "Sing."
"OK," Frank said. "I'll give it a go."
Frank let his paints fall to the ground. He started singing.
It was an old nursery rhyme he'd learned from the birds.
Please don't eat us
We aren't dead
Leave the vultures
From our heads
"Dude," Seymour said. "You're amazing!" Seymour turned his head to the side to call his friends. "Hey, guys! Come check this out! This dude has got it!"
Frank sang and sang. Everyone loved it.
"Does this mean I'm a monkey?" Frank asked.
"Dude, who cares," Seymour replied. "Do you like singing?"
"Well that's all that matters."
Then some worms ate Frank's paints and died.