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[noonelaughed]

Chris had been on the island for nearly two weeks now, and when it came down to it, he actually liked it. There was no pressure from anyone to pick a career or find a job or whatever, no one gave a shit if he smoked spliff in public and the sun was out just...all the time. If it weren't for the crap parties and certain people from home not being

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[dreaming_cowboy]

"Frogs are trouble, kid," Spike says.

Aren't people meant to stick to the paths? He goes for a walk off them and it still seems awfully crowded. By animals and kids both.

Frogs are trouble. Admittedly, the last one he ran into wasn't a real frog, and he was on mushrooms at the time, but he figures it counts.

[noonelaughed]

Plucking the spliff from his mouth with two fingers, Chris looked up at the bloke who'd pretty much snuck up on him. Or maybe he hadn't been paying attention to much else besides the possibilities that this tropical frog had opened up.

"What do you mean?" Chris asked, "Like your hair, by the way. Green. Right mental."

[dreaming_cowboy]

Spike's eyes flick upwards. He considers this assessment.

It was green. Right mental? "Sounds about right," he says, half to himself. Right mental does sound about right. What was the other thing? Frogs, right.

"I mean they're trouble." What was complicated about that?

[noonelaughed]

"So you've given them a go, then? You've tried it?" Chris asked, assuming that this bloke was refering to what he'd been considering ever since he'd come across the frog in the brush.

[dreaming_cowboy]

"Sure," says Spike, who will eat just about everything and has a tendency to order strange dishes just for the hell of it. Frog-legs show up, and not just at the French restaurants. Alternative meanings do not immediately occur to him. "'bout the only thing they're good for."

[noonelaughed]

"Alright then," Chris said, momentarily distracted from the fact that he'd have to find a place further inland for the party. It was better if it was unlikely people would stumble upon it while out for a walk or something.

But knowing that someone else had given the frog thing a go and had come out the other end alright was good enough for Chris. Besides, what the fuck else was he doing with his time?

"Fuck it." He decided, then took off his shirt and settled into a crouch, trying to figure out the best way to go about catching the toad.

[dreaming_cowboy]

"...going after it, huh," says Spike, who had not anticipated this reaction but is willing to stick around and see how it plays out. It could be funny. "Must be as bored as I am."

[noonelaughed]

"Exactly, mate. On both counts," Chris replied, though his eyes were still on the frog as he stretched out his shirt to use as a net. He'd have to be quick about it, because he wasn't sure just how fast toads were or how high they jumped.

"It's like someone sucked all the fun out of this place before I got here."

[dreaming_cowboy]

"You ask me, they built this place without it," Spike says. Shirt as a net. An interesting gambit. He might have gone with that. "Couldn't fit it in. Too small."

[noonelaughed]

"You'd think that," Chris said quietly, eyes still on the toad as he tried to pick his moment, "But Bristol was fuckin' tiny and there were like... parties all the time."

And he'd been there long enough that he'd figured out how to make his own fun when there was none to be found. It was likely only a matter of time before that became the case on the island as well.