This is a story idea I worked on with a large group of students I video conferenced with today. I was talking about how you could get ideas from asking "What If?" questions, and one of the "What If?" questions they came up with was "What if you got swallowed by a frog?" I suggested the title "365 Days in a Frog's Stomach," they came up with the characters, and voila! We get the beginning of the next great American novel...about being in a frog's stomach, anyway. :) To the students of this video conference: great work and try to finish the story! I'm looking forward to seeing what you create.
365 Days in a Frog’s Stomach
George the frog—he likes swimming; he has yellow spots all over
Prince Charles—he likes video games; he’s chubby, and he’s mean
Queen Fox--Charles's mother
It was a fateful February day when Prince Charles went outside in bad temper. His mother had told him to stop playing his favorite video game, “Chicken Shoot,” which Charles liked to play twelve hours every day.
“Go outside or else your eyes will get rotted,” his mother, Queen Fox, said sharply. She gave him a shove out the door and slammed it behind him.
Prince Charles landed on his bottom on the hard asphalt and started screaming loudly. Since nobody came to assist him, he got up with a scowl and started stomping toward the palace gardens. He was still in a state of agitation at the fact that his mother had had the nerve to shove him out while he was just about to reach Level 50. How awful; how awful.
The palace gardens would have made anyone smile with their beautiful rhododendrons and roses, the finely trimmed topiaries, and the lush grassy walkways. But Prince Charles still had his mind on Chicken Shoot, and that was why, when a large frog (actually, that was an understatement—the frog was as large as the royal palace itself) approached. Prince Charles saw the huge shadow the frog cast first, and then he looked up to see the creature. Tall and green, with yellow spots all over from frogpox, the frog was an intimidating sight.
“Get out of my way,” said Charles angrily, kicking some pebbles at the giant frog.
“Get out of my way, little boy,” the frog said indignantly. “I’m the one who’s hunting for crickets.”
“Crickets. Haha, you have some kind of food source,” Prince Charles snorted disdainfully. “I get to eat pudding and sugar-coated watermelon every day. And I get to eat crepes and waffles and—”
“That’s enough,” said the frog. “I get to eat YOU!” And with that, he thrust out his giant tongue and, with one scoop, lifted Charles into the air and into his slimy dark mouth.