"Oh, it's perfect!" she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. She pulled back her poofy reddish hair and placed a midnight black veil on the top of it. "But what about my beret?"
"You are not going to wear that!" Itsy shouted.
"But it's MY wedding!" she complained.
"A black wedding dress," Jessie commented. "Could it be more depressing?"
"But it's just great! I'm dead...it's perfect!" said Polly. There was a knock at the door. "Umm...come in!" she called.
"Unless you're Paul!" reminded Itsy.
"Or Jack!" added Jessie.
"Oh," mumbled a voice from the other side.
"Paul?" asked Polly.
"No, Jack!" Jack's voice exclaimed from behind the door. "Polly, I have to talk to you, we can't find Paul."
"Have you checked the hallway of mirrors?"
"Of course," he said. "Where else would we look?"
"Cold feet," muttered Jessie.
"Of course he's got cold feet, he's dead afterall." Polly said, opening the door to let Jack in. "He's probably just trying to scare me for a little while. He'll be here."
"I'd love to see what will happen if he doesn't," laughed Jessie, deviously.
"Aach!" said Polly. "I'd...I'd...well, I don't know...he'd better get here, or... I'll cry and scream and throw a fit? Naaa, I'd never do that...I'd just hunt him down."
"Can I help?" Jessie asked, "I could bring a net, and very sharp objects."
"Are you sure that's not what she had in mind for tonight?" Jack asked.
"Ba dum dum ching," Polly said cynically, and glared viciously at Jack.
"Sorry, Polly," he apologized. "But I have to pick on you."
"Yes, a perfect time to pick on me, Jack!" Polly said, "I've already got enough to worry about...oh, where is he? Where could he possibly be?"
Where was he indeed? He himself may not've even known, but one very strange little amphibian, who had somehow managed to trap him in some sort of deep hole, happened to know. Though she knew, she didn't care.
"Why hello," greeted the frog, with a bit of sarcasm. "What are you doing in my snake pit?"
"Snake pit?!" asked Paul nervously, trying desperately to scramble to his feet.
"Of course I haven't trapped many because of you." the frog said angrily. "But you'll have to do."
"Do for what?" Paul asked, swallowing hard.
"My recipe," she said, sticking out her tongue and catching a fly.
"You're gonna EAT me?!"
She chewed on the fly and swallowed it. "Well, what else could I do to you?"
"Who ARE you?" he asked.
"Me?" she said innocently. "I am a frog."
"That's all?" Paul retorted. "I know this IS a strange world, but most of the frogs around here don't talk, let alone trap snakes...or innocent but confused and stressed guys who just happen to fall down large holes."
"Well, I wasn't originally a frog." she stated, "I was a very confused magician, you see."
"So why are you a frog?"
"I told you!" she snapped, "I was a very confused magician!"
Paul laughed. "You turned yourself into a frog?" The frog looked angered and hopped down into the hole.
"Wanna make somethin' of it?" she growled and bit his leg.
"YOUCH!" he yelled, "Why did you do that?!"
"I don't take crap from nobody," noted the frog. "Especially not from my prisoners!"
"I guess not," Paul said, checking the bite-mark on his leg. "You don't have rabies or anything, do you?" Paul remarked, rudely.
"Oh, and I was just about to let you go too." she replied with a sneer. "Who are you anyway?"
"Well, my name is Paul..."
"Paul who?" she asked.
"Paul... Paul... E. Vaughn?" he answered, though it was more of a question.
"Are you sure?" the frog asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No...that's not really my name." Paul said, "I forgot it. But Polly would know, she's about to become Mrs. Whatever-my-name-really-is. Oh, my! POLLY! SHE'S GONNA KILL ME! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, I'M SO LATE!"
"Late for what?" the frog asked curiously. "A wedding?"
"No, a Singing Cake Club Meeting," Paul said sarcastically. "Can't you let me go?"
The frog laughed. "Yeah right, and miss watching you suffer?"
"What's your name?" he asked, changing the subject from out of nowhere. "I can't very well just call you Frog Lady or Little Miss Kermit."
"Cat." she answered and Paul laughed.
"Cat? Cat the Frog? HA! That's good."
"Wanna make somethin' of it?" she threatened again.
"No, no! It's a fine name, really!" said Paul. "So, Cat...the Frog...what are you planning on doing to me?"
She grinned deviously.
Meanwhile, everyone else was waiting for Paul to arrive. Most of them were just standing around worrying, but someone's sobbing could be heard from the bathroom.
"Polly?" asked Itsy as she walked into the place where much crying was coming from.
"No," someone sniffled. "Jessie."
"Jessie?" Itsy asked, surprised. "Why are YOU so upset?"
"I'm always upset," the depressed jester answered. "But no one ever pays attention to me."
"Oh," said Itsy. "Then where's Polly?"
"I don't know. In fact, I don't even care!" the jester said bitterly. "Last time I saw her though, she and Jack were sucking the helium out of all the balloons. She looked like she was having the time of her...uh...death."
"I would think she'd be heart-broken," Itsy commented.
"You would think Dr. Bradman, but I fear you don't. At least not profoundly enough." stated Jessie.
Suddenly, someone came in through the bathroom window wearing a black veil on their head. "Polly?" Itsy asked, "What are you doing?"
"Nothing!" answered a squeaky voice, that turned out to be Jack's.
"JACK!" another even squeakier voice shouted from the outside. Polly climbed in after him and began singing, "Je voudrais une gateau, si'l vous plait!"
As soon as she got in, she fell over onto the floor. There was a knock at the door. "Lock the door!" Polly squeaked.
"And hope they don't have pants!" Itsy added. Then a piece of paper was slipped under the door and Jessie picked it up. She read it and burst out laughing. She handed it to Itsy, who laughed as well.
"Polly, we found out where Paul is." Itsy announced.
"Where?" Polly squeaked, even though the helium was wearing off.
"Some Cat-the-Frog trapped him and sent him to the Desert of Insanity," she continued.
"I hope Kevin doesn't pee on that fat guy's stomach..." Polly said, very spaced out from the helium. She fell over. "Nighty-night!"
Suddenly the note took on a strange metamorphosis and turned into two white lab mice.
"What are we going to do tomorrow night, Cranium?" the taller of the two asked.
"The same thing we do every night, Winky," the other one, who had a big head, said. "Try to take over Montana!" Then they ran off.
But the note was, in fact, true. Cat-the-Frog had taken Paul to the middle of the Desert of Insanity, were he had little hope of escaping.
"Hello!" Paul exclaimed to a pile of inanimate objects. "My name is Paul, and I'm not an alcoholic." He picked up a toaster and listened intensely. "Oh, really? I never knew that toasters were partial to whole wheat bread and loathe the smell of rye." Then he turned around quickly to face a cactus. "Hey! Shut up!" he screamed, then went back to talking to the toaster.
"Wow! You've met Turkey-Goo? I thought he was beaten up by a bunch of Hippies in front of the Washington Monument." He looked deeply offended and turned around to the cactus again. "YEAH, WELL, YOU'RE JUST A LARD-FILLED, SMELLEGATED, EIGHT-TOED, SLUG-FACED, NARF-BRAINED GUAVA!" Then he went back to talk with the toaster.
"Well, back to our conversation..." He listened. "Oh, he told me I was off my rocker," He listened again. "No, not off my CRACKER, off my ROCKER." He paused again. "No, not a CRACKER! No crackers! Polly-wanna-cracker?! NO! Wait, Polly! POLLY WANTS A CRACKER?! DON'T WORRY POLLY, I'LL GET YOU A CRACKER!" He dropped the toaster and ran off.
Paul reached the Sand-Castle-on-a-cloud huffing and puffing like the big, bad wolf. (Who, by the way, never did get a big, fat pig to eat.) He had run all the way there from the Desert of Insanity. As he passed by a mirror and caught his reflection, he screamed. "YIKES! I look horrible! I need a bath!"
He quickly got himself into a nice, comfortable, warm bubble-bath, complete with Ernie's rubber-ducky, that was stolen by Elmo, who was tickled by Polly's cousin Victoria Alotta, and Mills threw Elmo across the room, and the ducky landed in Polly's backpack, then she gave it to Paul.
George passed by the bathroom, where he heard Paul humming to himself and splashing water everywhere. "Paul?" he asked. "Is that YOU splitching around in there?"
The humming stopped. "Umm...yeah?"
"You know it's your wedding day, right?" the King reminded him.
"Of course, how could I forget?"
"You are aware that you're supposed to be there, right?"
"Uh-huh," he responded, then went back to humming.
"Okay," George said. "Just checking in case you didn't know." He left to tell Polly.
"He's very late!" Polly grumbled, and stole her veil back from Jack.
"And very clean," George noted.
