...
OH MY GOD! IT'S AN ARMY
OF SQUEAKY FROGS!!! A whole battalion of small squeaky frogs,
emblazoned by hand with the Curtis Suburban logo! How nefarious!
Someone could lose an eye! Someone could get sued! Or worse!
PANIC!! Chris Molson-Golden
took cover behind the iced-coffee of anonymity and the rest of us lost
our minds, until a voice of reason cracked through like a beacon:
Hey, keep your pants on, Fruity
(said EZ, channeling his best HST vibe). There's only one here way to defeat
these here squeaky frogs, and that's to project massive rock energy.
You'd better get that first band up there. You know the ones I'm
talking about - VENICE BEACH MUSCLE CLUB!
Without further ado - the massive
VENICE BEACH MUSCLE CLUB!
With a whirr and flurry of wild
surf-driven riffs, the VBMC whipped themselves into a frenzy
FROGS: Huh? What's that?
FROGS: NOOOOO! Frog
will weakening. Must find antidote (note growing frog confusion)
Melina: Take that, you
squeaky frogs. There's more where that came from.
Curtis: Stick!! I
think it's working! Those frogs are on the run. What should
we do to completely vanquish them?
Stick: This is no time to be Captain Underpants! You'd better get the next band on, VBMC has done all they can. Get the Teenage Prayers up there. Get them up there now and they'd better hit it hard. And when they are done, you'd better pick up those frogs and throw them. That's right - IT AINT OVER UNTIL YOU THROW THE FROG!