0-dark-thirty at the Carbeck Landfill: Grok grok grok. Hi ho, hi ho, sproing sproing crash sploosh. It’s off t’ work I go. grok grok.

Well, I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on but it was awfully noisy around here this morning and “crash sploosh” was awfully suspicious and then, when Mouse and I got up, the jug of frog juice was missing. And so was Froggy. grokGROK

Mouse and I were involved in a complicated early morning mission to drop a vee-hickle off at Howard Cooper and when we finished with that, we went off in search of coffee and breakfast. All was well until we passed the Pi-Hi parking lot.

Mouse noticed that there was a red Link Belt steamshovel that seemed to be awfully interested in schlurping up whatever creepy-crawlies were buried in the dirt it was scooping up. To my absolute sheer utter horror, I caught a flash of green (grok grok) in the cab. The shovel arm was swinging wildly around making frequent deposits of various insects and other little morsels into the operator’s wide red mouth. grok grok. Good stuff! I love this job! grokgrokfrgok

We decided the best course was to just duck and make sure no one saw us and somehow we made it past the construction site unnoticed. We ended up downtown at The Broken Egg and then, when we got home, we decided to walk back downtown, just for fun. We went to Peaceable Kingdom and Orchid Lane and used the bathroom at Border’s, which can have our pee but not our money.

Unbelievably, we had almost completely forgotten about Froggy by this time. Actually, I think we were relieved that someone else, i.e., his boss, was responsible for him for once. Grok grok. Whaddya mean? grok gork. I *run* that construction site. grokgrok. Roight, Frooooggy.

Anyway, Steve had called to say that our vee-hickle was ready and since we were already half-way to Howard Cooper, we decided to walk the rest of the way and pick it up. We were walking along State Street and all of a sudden, we heard a rustling in the bushes. Accompanied by a rather familar sound. grok grok. Hope th’ boss doesn’ find me here. grok grok. That was pretty hard work. grok grok. After all o’ that frog juice and creepy-crawlies, I needed a li’l Listerine break. grok grok. dum de dum de dum.

So, did the boss find Froggy and fire him? Did he go back to work and accidentally knock his steam shovel against an underground lucky-shucky cable? Did we retrieve him from the bushes and take him home to sleep it off?

What do YOU think? (Hint: he is not home yet…)

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