24. S1: Party Like It's The Froggy 1920's

I'm not dead. Going on a hiatus later. Will be dead. See ya and enjoy!

It was dead quiet.

In the middle of a large dining room, a small girl sat on her lonesome, the darkness being her only comfort. In front of her was a heavily frosted birthday cake with eight candles standing upright on top, her only source of light. The candles were short and stumpy, having burned for so long. In probably a few minutes, the wicks would've completely charred away, leaving her alone in the shadows.

The girl wore a cute and puffy pink dress and had a party hat strapped to her head. Her bright blonde hair was tied to a ponytail, though still far too short to be considered as one. Meanwhile, on the chairs of the dining table, several dolls and plushies were placed, lifeless and unmoving. The boxes by the wall were ripped open, their wrapping strewn all over the ground.

The girl gripped her dress, waiting, and the candles continued to burn.

Just a little bit longer…

They have to come. They have to be here.

Right?

The girl watched as the flames flickered, growing weaker by the second. Gradually, tears formed in her eyes, the light of the candles reflecting off the water. Frustratedly, her lips quivered and her teeth gritted hard. Before she knew it, the fire died off on its own, taking her by surprise.

It was gone. There were no more candles left.

She looked downwards, dejected and ashamed. Her entire body vibrated as intense emotions flared through her. Lifting her knees up, she rested her wet face into her thighs, curling up tightly.

"Happy Birthday to me…"

Today was a wonderful day. Why was it wonderful, you may ask?

It was the announcement day for the winner of the Frog of the Year Award.

A bit of background for the uninformed: the Frog of the Year Award — also known as the FOTY (pronounced 'foot-tee') — is a prestigious award given to one exemplary frog, toad, newt or any other amphibian that had shown great action and achievement during the year, all based on who they thought best embodies the values of Wartwood. They were chosen through the democratic act of popular votes and due to the diversity of amphibians, the award can be won by anyone of any background. The only requirement would be that they were residents of Wartwood, partaking in all manner of Wartwood culture and history.

Note that this award only applied to Wartwood. To any other town, the award was worth nothing.

However, the winner of the award gets the immense privilege to plan the FOTE Bash, a grand party to celebrate one year of surviving in Wartwood. It was basically the biggest party of the year, bigger than even Amphibia Unification Day. The town was actually older than the kingdom of Amphibia under King Andrias' rule.

Thus, as always on this particular day, the town centre was packed to the brim, everyone chatting up a storm, anticipating the reveal of this year's award winner. Even the Plantars were excited which was not all surprising. They tended to be excited about a lot of things.

"Alright, Frog of the Year! I wonder who gets to plan the party this year!" Sprig Plantar, the young boy of the Plantars, exclaimed. He was too young to be eligible for the award but that didn't mean he couldn't be enthusiastic about it.

Hop Pop, the pop of hop of the Plantars, slapped him in the back. "Now, calm down there, Sprig. Whoever it is that wins, I'm sure they'll plan a grand party."

Sprig's lips puckered. "I hope so. Last year's party was a bit weird... I can't believe everyone voted for Wally."

Hop Pop chuckled. "We did that as a joke. At least everyone was enjoying it."

On stage, a rotund toad with a mayor's sash around his shoulder walked forward, ringing a small bell in his hand. "Now now, settle down, folks! Settle down." He said, watching the crowd slowly grow silent. He cleared his throat. "A-hem! As you all know, the Frog of the Year award goes to the most selfless, blah blah blah, we've already heard this a million times. Let's just get with it."

Waving his hand, a small frog Toady walked by next to him, carrying a tray holding an envelope with the results. To ensure fair and untampered results, the votes were counted by members from a different town. Grabbing the envelope, the toad, Mayor Toadstool, ripped it open, revealing the name of this year's winner.

"And this year's Frog of the Year award goes to… Hopadiah Plantar!" Mayor Toadstool announced with glamour. Hop Pop gasped as he watched the crowd go wild, cheering his name in glee and with congratulations. "Get on up here, Plantar! Give us a speech!"

Hop Pop, although honoured and touched, felt a tad nervous. He rarely gave speeches and he couldn't even remember the last time he went on stage to do anything. That one time during the elections didn't count; he was in a wheelchair.

Suddenly, Sprig slapped him lightly in the back, shocking him out of his stammer. "Come on, Hop Pop. You can do this."

Hop Pop smiled and nodded. Sprig was right; he had this.

Stepping out of his comfort zone, Hop Pop climbed up the stairs and onto the stage. Mayor Toadstool stood back and handed him the paper with his name, letting the old frog take centre stage. Now with everyone's attention on him, Hop Pop cleared his throat.

"A-hem! Uh, h-howdy, folks! I didn't actually think I'd win this year. Or any year to be honest…" Hop Pop muttered. "In any case, I'm grateful that you all voted for me. Not sure why though. Not like I did anything much this year."

"Sure you did! You wrangled the Plantar monster and made her your slave!" A random bystander shouted from the crowd. Nearby, Felicia Sundew, owner of Felicia's Tea Shoppe, glared.

"She's not a monster and definitely not a slave. She's a young girl and Hopadiah extended his roof to her." She argued. "I think that's very compassionate of him."

Another frog bystander who shall not be named scratched the back of his head in doubt. "I don't know… She still kinda scares me…"

Slowly, the crowd began arguing amongst themselves. While a select few believed Hop Pop was the hero that captured a monster, another select few argued otherwise, believing him to be a generous old man that gave the specified monster a home. Most, however, stood quietly on the sidelines, looking away from the debates. Whatever opinions they had, they seemed hesitant to share.

Hop Pop was having none of it. He heard these complaints a hundred times already and he was starting to get sick of it. Now he was being praised for it? That's a different low.

"Alright, that's ENOUGH!" Hop Pop shouted, silencing the crowd. "Now, I know that a lot of you still have problems with her but ya can't keep holding grudges forever! And to be frank, I don't quite appreciate this!"

"Sure we can! It's what we do!"

"Yeah! It's even our town's motto!"

Hop Pop flinched. He almost forgot about the motto. Not like he has anything wrong with it but this didn't seem like it applied. "Look, I get that but can't you at least try to give her a chance? She hasn't even done anything for the past few weeks!"

One of the frogs rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I'm not sure… What do we get in return?"

"You get invited to the party."

"Isn't the party, like, open to the public?"

"Not if you keep yammering on about this." Hop Pop glared. "Anyway, we've had quite a rough few months. We all deserve a big break! So why don't we start putting our tongues together and make this year the best Frog of the Year Bash in Wartwood history! Are you all with me?!"

Hop Pop cheered his speech out but instead of thunderous applause, all he received was an unnerving silence. As he waited for some response, the old frog began to frown. The best he got was a very awkward cough. "Come on! It's not that hard of a decision to make!"

"We're still thinking, man! Give us some time!"

Hop Pop groaned. What a year…

A couple of hours later, Hopadiah Plantar and his grandson Sprig Plantar returned to the Plantar household. In any case, the word 'Plantar' has been spoken too many times that it was starting to twist the tongues of frog gods. So let's replace that word with something else, like types of cheese. Why cheese? Because apparently, that's a thing that existed on Amphibia and Sasha had never seen anyone actually use it except for that one time she attempted to make pizza.

Do the frogs here even eat cheese? Why do they manufacture cheese if no one ever used it? And how can poor old lady Mrs Croaker be the one to make them? Cheese manufacturing was a very labour-intensive process! Mrs Croaker looked like she had elbows ready to snap in 24 pieces on command. And she lived alone too! How was she alive?!

There was an explanation to this though but that didn't really make it any better.

In any case, upon parking Bessie in her wonderful barn, Hop Pop and Sprig entered their home, looking forward to some time off.

"Polly, Sasha! We're back!" Hop Pop called out. "Guess who won the Frog of the Year award? That's right! ME! Ain't that surprising?!"

"We also got smoothies!" Sprig shouted, showing the cups of shaved ice drinks in his hands. "It's made from the leftover snow in town. There was a lot of it because, you know, it was a whole week."

Concerningly, there was no reply. In the middle of the room was Polly, looking away, unmoving. She raised a flipper and shushed the two. "Shh, shut up! I'm watching a thing."

Hop Pop raised a brow. 'A thing' never sounded good. Following her gaze, Hop Pop turned to the sight Polly was so entranced of. From living room to kitchen, he then looked at her quizzically. "Polly, why are you staring at Sasha?"

"Look at her. She's been eating her cereal for hours!"

Just as Polly stated, in the kitchen was Sasha, sitting by the table with a bowl of cereal in front of her. The milk was still and the cereal was soggy. For some odd reason, her spoon had been lifted only halfway, now stopped completely. She was also staring into the spoonful of milk and grains, unblinking and frozen. Even the bags under her eyes had bags.

"She's been in that pose since you left." Polly whispered.

Hop Pop looked at her, concerned. Ever since the incident with Hiber-Week, Sasha's been a bit on the edge. She refused to talk about what happened and tried to act as if everything was okay. But it didn't take a crafty newt to notice otherwise.

Hop Pop walked up to her, calling out her name. "Sasha? Sasha, you okay there?"

Getting no response, he slowly reached to her shoulder. "Sasha?" Just as it touched, her eyes widened.

"AAAHHHH!"

"WAAHHHHH!"

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"WAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Polly gritted her teeth. "WILL YOU TWO STOP SCREAMING?!"

Simultaneously, the two stopped, their hearts feeling like they're about to burst. Sasha stared at the shocked old frog, looking dishevelled herself. Upon realising where she was, her startled expression quickly turned sour. "Hop Pop, what the heck?! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"I'm the one that almost gave you a heart attack? In case you weren't aware, I'm the old frog who actually can get a heart attack!" He countered. "Sheesh, if I died now, there'd be no one to plan for the Frog of the Year bash."

Sasha raised a brow. "Frog of the what now?"

"Never mind that. That's not important right now." Hop Pop dismissed before turning back towards her. "Anyway, Sasha, are you okay?"

"Y-yeah! Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Because according to Polly here, you've been staring at your cereal for hours." He replied, pointing at the devil behind him.

Following that, Polly nodded the way only a pollywog without a neck could. "Yeah, and it was super creepy!"

Sasha pushed her bowl away, spinning her chair and facing them. "I'm fine. It's… nothing. I just lost my appetite, that's all."

An obvious lie, so unlike the teenager. Her lies were usually convincing. However, he quickly noticed her tired face, a reminder of one of their earlier moments. Hop Pop looked at the girl with concern. "Sasha, you haven't been sleeping properly, have you?"

She clicked her tongue. "Tch, how could you tell?"

He crossed his arms. "Because this happened before and that time was a disaster. Let's not repeat that and just tell us what's wrong."

Sasha crossed her arms. "Oh, because that worked out so well last time, huh?" She said sarcastically.

"Fair enough." The old frog replied. "But whatever's going on in that head of yours, you need to relax. We're here to help you, so you don't have to worry."

Sasha scoffed, although weaker than usual. "Pft, fine, whatever."

Hop Pop chuckled, swinging an arm. "That's my girl! Now come on! I need your help to prepare for my Frog of the Year speech."

"You still haven't explained what that is."

"Basically, every year we have this vote on which is the best frog in Wartwood based on how much they did for the town. Technically, anyone can vote anyone, so long as they live in Wartwood." Sprig explained.

"The Plantars have never won before and we've been living in Wartwood for hundreds of years. So you get why I'm shooketh by this." Hop Pop added. "Plus, I get to plan the Frog of the Year Bash! The party only lasts a night but it's the party!"

Sasha laughed. Not like a 'haha funny' laugh though; more like a 'oh wow really' laugh with a sarcastic undertone. "The party? Come on, Hop Pop. Wartwood's a small town. What kind of party would that be?"

"If you must know, it's no ordinary party. It's the party of the whole dagnabbit year! The whole town's invited!" Hop Pop claimed heartily. "And since I get to plan it myself, I get to decide how it's like."

"Ah yes, old man ideas for the new generation. Enlighten me. Wow me above my expectations."

Hop Pop raised a finger, only to slowly let it droop. "… Well, I don't have any ideas yet but it'll come to me!" He huffed. But then, a brilliant almost-not-Hop-Popping idea appeared before him. "Say, how good are you at party planning?"

Sasha's eyes widened. Did she just hear exactly what Hop Pop just said? Or did her ears play tricks on her? Whichever it was, it shocked Sasha immensely, to the point she even almost fell off her chair. "Woahwoahwoahwoahwoah!... Woah. You want me to plan your party?" She repeated, before crossing her arms haughtily. "Hop Pop, that's a new low for you."

"Not like that. It's hard to admit but you're kinda right; my ideas are old. But you're young! Maybe you can act as my assistant party planner and help me design it. Who knows? Maybe a new face is exactly what Wartwood needs."

"Ugh, so I'm being exploited? Shame on you, Hop Pop. Shame. On You."

"If you don't want to do it, then just say so."

"I never said anything of sort. Let's biggity bounce!"

Where we left off, Hop Pop asked for Sasha's help in planning the Frog of the Year bash. You'd know this because it literally just happened. But why would Hop Pop, who saw very closely the dangerous hijinks that the young girl had purported, hire Sasha?

He saw that despite all her mistakes, there was one skill she took pride in all of her schemes and that was… scheming. Planning, designing, strategizing, that sort of stuff. Sasha may act like a dumb teenager and occasionally, she was but when everything goes well with her plans, oh does it go well.

Being an actor, Hop Pop was quite familiar with unrealized talent. So, why not realize it here?

"Welp, here it is. The site for a new tomorrow! Or more specifically, the New Year." Hop Pop exclaimed.

He and the Plantars kids (Sasha included) were standing in the middle of Wartwood's town square, the bustling centre of town. With the party announced, everyone was quick to begin work on preparations, even without Hop Pop being there. Triangle flag banners hung from streetlight to streetlight, tables and chairs were loaded to site and every little crack in the stone was filled, just to look nice.

They walked — though, Sasha was in her wheelchair — towards Loggle, the local wood smith, watching him chip away lumber with a hammer and chisel. Seeing them arrive, the axolotl waved friendlily from above. "Howdy, Hopadiah! How do you like this statue of you I made?"

Hop Pop gave a thumbs-up. "Looking good, Loggle!" He said with approval.

On the other hand, Sasha stared at the statue with a face very difficult to describe. "… Hop Pop, why is your statue naked?" She wheezed.

The old frog did not answer.

Moving on, they headed to the food section where the town's local restaurant owner-slash-cook was preparing tonight's meal. Despite both hands being nothing but stumps, Stumpy still had the skills to rival the Newtopian Navy's best kitchens. He once worked there, after all!

"This here's the caterer for the bash. Which, uh, you've met." Hop Pop introduced. Stumpy, who was tasting his cold-serve gumbo using a ladle-hand, turned around to greet. Seeing the blonde girl, he smiled.

"Hello again, Sasha." He said courteously.

Sasha nodded. "Sup, Stumpy? How's business?"

"It slowed down since you left but it's still busier than ever. I ever had to hire me nieces for help."

That caught her attention. "Huh, didn't know you had nieces."

"They're from Newtopia. A pair of good kids but doesn't know the value of hard work. So, my sister-in-law, seeing that she's rich enough, decided to send 'em here via airdrop." He explained. He then noticed a glint in the sky above. "Oh look, there they are now."

There, up high in the sky, was a bird. But t'was no ordinary bird! It was a giant pigeon, part of Newtopia's defunct branch of military — the Flying Worms, where normal earthworms literally pilot giant birds. They had practised the art of flight for years and even participated in several battles. But then, their numbers grew low and their worm pilots kept disappearing for some reason until all that was left was a few.

This particular sparrow was being piloted by one of the remaining worms. They had a gruff look and a single scar over their left eye, which contrasted their very tiny bodies but exuded their years of experience. They were also a few days from retirement and was looking forward to spending their remaining years with their loving genderless worm spouse, wriggling in dirt.

They're worms. It's what they do.

From the bird, two young newts — one blue, one green — jumped off, diving straight towards the town square. As they reached acceptable heights, the two pulled their ripcords, releasing their parachutes for a soft landing. However, one of them could not pull it out, causing them to descent without slowing down.

"M-my parachute! It's stuck!" The blue one said, frantically pulling the cord repeatedly.

"Catch the leaves, sis! CATCH THE LEAVES!"

"THERE ARE NO LEEEEAAAAVEEEESSSS!"

The blue newt shrieked in fear as she rapidly fell to her doom. However, fortune was in her favour for coincidentally, she was falling in a beeline straight into Stumpy's cold-brew gumbo. Crashing into the cauldron, the gumbo splashed all over the outdoor kitchen, drenching any nearby passers. Thankfully, that did not include the Plantars.

The blue newt, realising she was still alive, sighed in relief. "Hah… Hello, uncle Stumpford."

Stumpy, covered in his own cooking, nodded. "Hello, Chiddy. Where's your sister, Middy?"

"I am here too!" The pink newt who successfully deployed her parachute, Middy, yelled from above. As she sailed her way downwards, she inadvertently slammed into the naked wooden statue of Hop Pop, causing it to topple sideways. "Ooof!"

"My statue!" Loggle screamed.

Leaving the caterers to their business, the Plantars continued on their tour. Hop Pop introduced Sasha to every single frog, toad and newt that worked with them to make this party happen. Everyone had different roles to fulfil and there were many roles. For example, Chuck handled the flower decorations — especially tulips — while Felicia Sundew helped with the table arrangements. Simple tasks in a glance but when the party's tonight, they barely had time.

After almost half an hour of just visiting workers, the tour reached its end. "And finally, I chose the best frog in Wartwood to handle the entertainment." Hop Pop said excitedly. Just then, a person of interest appeared spontaneously. "Sylvia!"

Sasha raised a brow. "Sylvia?"

"Morning, kids! You all look wonderful today." Sylvia Sundew, matriarch of the Sundew family, greeted politely.

"Hey, Sylvia. Are you the one handling entertainment for the Frog of the Year bash?" Sprig asked. In response, Sylvia chuckled lightly.

"Me? Oh no no no. I'm just here to buy some cheese. Mrs Croaker got a nice batch of aged silkworm Gouda in stock and those run out fast."

"Still not sure why frogs eat cheese but okay." Sasha muttered before turning her attention back to Hop Pop. "So, who was the entertainment dude again?"

Hop Pop snapped his fingers. "Oh right! Sorry, Sylvia. Can't chat right now. I'll see you at the party!"

"Of course! I'll see you then as well, Hopadiah." Sylvia said, walking away for cheese.

Now back on track, Hop Pop resumed his statement. "Right, so the one who's handling entertainment this evening, the best frog I could think of, is—"

Suddenly, Wally appeared in a panic. "Hop Pop! Hop Pop! We've got bad news! The local crazy frog is dead!"

Hop Pop gasped. "What?! They're dead?! But how?!"

"I wasn't there when it happened but apparently they did some crazy stuff!"

"Darn that frog! They were the craziest frog in town! There's literally no one that could replace 'em!"

"Oh, so the whole thing about them being dead isn't important. Alright." Sasha noted.

"It's extremely important! Now there's no one to handle the entertainment!" Hop Pop explained, conveniently missing the point. "Unless…"

Hop Pop, in a moment of desperation, turned to his grandkids. Specifically, his biological ones: Sprig and Polly. Neither of them were entertainers in the slightest but they both had basic acting training just by living with him. And actors were, by definition, entertainers!

"Polly, Sprig! You two think you can handle all the fun and wackiness for tonight?" Hop Pop asked.

Sprig gasped, followed by squealing in glee. "Fun and wackiness?! There's no one better to ask than us, Hop Pop!"

The old frog frowned. "There was, and they're dead. Show some respect."

"Oh, now they get respect! Okay, why not?!" Sasha voiced, only to be ignored.

Polly, being the responsible little sister, pushed her older brother out of the way and cleared her throat. "What Sprig meant to say was that you can count on us! We'll make this year's Frog of the Year bash the best it could be, considering the circumstances!"

Hop Pop smiled. "Atta kids! I'll see you two tonight!"

Sprig gave a salute and after grabbing Polly by the bucket, he hopped away, ready to prepare for tonight's show. Sasha wanted to question the reasoning behind allowing two kids to handle the entertainment for the biggest party of the year but she had a feeling that the standards in this world differed that from Earth and arguing would've been a waste of time. Accepting that, she decided to just leave it be.

"Okay, looks like you've got it all sorted out. Why do you need me again?" Sasha asked. Much to her surprise, Hop Pop started to laugh.

"Sorted out? Hah, hahahaha, HAH!" Hop Pop loudly cackled, then immediately turned serious. "We haven't even started yet."

"What do you mean? Stumpy's already stumping and Loggle's already loggling. It kinda looks like you've already passed the planning stage."

"Well, duh. Of course, they're doing jobs. The party's tonight so they have to start working now." Hop Pop rambled. "But most of the planning is already done. See, we have a template for planning out the Frog of the Year bash. After all, you can't expect just about anyone to plan the party from scratch. So right now, they're just following the template. It's our job to do the changes so that the party truly reflects the party planner!"

Sasha groaned. "Ugh, following instructions to make a party? I didn't think it was possible to make this boring."

Hop Pop huffed. As usual, it's difficult to satisfy this girl. But that's no issue! Once she gets to work, she'd definitely see the importance of a good party plan and instruction set. Pulling a large notebook out — the template for the Frog of the Year bash, as provided by the town hall — he lifted it to the sky and cheered.

"Now come on! Let's start planning!"

What happened during the planning process was a montage of paper scribbling, scissor cutting and lots and lots of glue. Too much glue, in fact, as Hop Pop accidentally got himself stuck to a wall. Sasha managed to pull him off thankfully but then, she ended up getting stuck to the wall instead. In the end, they just ripped the glue off when it dried, much to the discontent of the small café owner they were doing their scrapbooking at.

But eventually, they did it.

"Behold! The Hopadiah Frog of the Yeah Bash Plan!" Hop Pop cheered, lifting the now completed party planner in his hands. "It's beautiful!"

Sasha clapped her hands, carrying a mockingly fake smile. "Incredible! We changed absolutely nothing! What a good use of 2 hours!" Sasha exclaimed sarcastically, causing the old frog to frown.

"There are changes!"

"Oh yeah? Point one."

"The statue of me now wears a shirt."

"… Alright, that's on me. I set the bar too low." She responded disappointedly. "But come on, Hop Pop! There's got to be more stuff to do! I mean, look at this!"

Taking the party plan book, she began flipping through the pages and reading its contents out loud. "Apple bobbing? Lantern lights? Open-stage performance?" She read. "Okay, I give props to that last one but this is all baby party stuff."

"Well, what would you suggest?"

Sasha looked around, watching everyone work hard. Farmers, townies, no matter what class or occupation, they all genuinely wanted to send off this year with a bang. Sasha rubbed her chin thoughtfully and smirked. "Hmm… I've got a few ideas."

After getting a new notebook, she began formulating her party plan. It needed to be striking but not enough to give the frogs a heart attack, classic but not stone-age classic and finally, it needed to be cohesive. You can't just put a bunch of random things into a party. Every element needed to work with each other, from the decorations to the music and to the food itself. If you're going to include a nightclub DJ, then make the whole party a rave.

Though, that's not what she was going to do. A rave would've been too much for these farmers.

After half an hour, Sasha poured everything she knew about party planning into this single book. And with sweat pouring off of her forehead, she gave herself a breather and stared at her masterpiece.

"Nice." She weakly said, feeling somewhat exhausted.

Hop Pop leaned from over her shoulder, looking at her plan. "Ooo, what've you got planned there?"

Violating the laws of Lorentz invariance, Sasha instantaneously hid the book from his old eyes. "No. Peeking." She said, enunciating each word. She then pushed him by the face and away from view. "This is a surprise. It's your party, after all."

"That doesn't bring me confidence."

Sasha smirked. "Trust me on this, Hop Pop. No cheats, no plays. I swear on my family name."

"You're swearing on the Plantar name?"

"What? No. I'm swearing on the Waybright name."

Hop Pop stared at her unwavering figure. She was definitely serious about this and in a weird way, he felt that he could trust her. He always knew her word carried weight but she was always careful about what that 'word' was. But right now? This was just pure honesty.

"Hmm… Alright, you got me. The floor's all yours, Sasha." Hop Pop said, giving the notebook back to her. With a gleeful smile, she snatched the book from his hand and immediately got to work.

"Stumpy, I've got you a new recipe!" Sasha yelled, ripping the page off and handing it over to him. The chef read through the recipe and chuckled. This was about to be interesting. His two nieces climbed over his shoulder and read it as well, raising confused but positive looks.

"Boomshroom soup? Is that a thing?" Chiddy asked.

Stumpy chuckled some more. "It is now. Chiddy, Middy! Prepare me cutting hands!"

The two girls saluted. "Aye-aye, captain!" They shouted simultaneously.

Sasha huffed with repose. With the food taken care of, she then turned her sights to the horror that was the naked statue of Hopadiah Plantar. "Loggle! New statue design! Get that shirtless old man out of here!"

"But I'm almost done!" Loggle complained, standing on some scaffolding by the statue. "I just need to chisel in the pecs."

"NO! Definitely not! No pecs!" Sasha said, crumpling the page with the new statue design and throwing it, hitting the axolotl in the head. "We're using it as firewood!"

"NOOOOOO!"

After dealing with Loggle and his weird statue, Sasha began looking for their prized entertainers. Hearing shenanigans from a nearby alleyway, Sasha pushed her wheels and turned, looking around the corner.

"Sprig, Polly! I've got some good ne—" She started, only to stop just as abruptly.

In the surprisingly well-lit alley, Sprig and Polly were practising their act. And by 'act', it was a weird performance where Polly bounced on a beach ball, flinging nunchucks around while doing flips, all while Sprig circled her on a unicycle and played his fiddle.

Sasha stared at the two, going through all five stages of grief in a single moment. "… You, uh, keep doing… whatever it is you're doing… Bye."

Throughout the day, Sasha went back and forth among the citizens, racing around like a go-kart and giving out new orders. Many were sceptical, considering this was Sasha, but learning from past experiences, she took her time to convince them, no tricks or fine print. Slowly, the townsfolk grew enthusiastic about the new plans and they quickly tore down the old and began working on the new.

Hop Pop watched in awe as she directed everyone to their various tasks. Even in her wheelchair, she looked like the most important person in the crowd. And despite what he assumed to be huge changes, the townsfolk and volunteers were working so fast and eager. And oddly enough, perfectly in tandem too. As if they knew what each other was thinking and most importantly, what Sasha was.

From this distance, he thought he saw her eyes turn pink. But that couldn't be right. Hop Pop rubbed his eyes clear.

"Are you okay with her taking over like this, Hopadiah?" Wally asked, leaning towards the old frog.

Hop Pop scratched the back of his head, unsure as to what to say. "Well, I don't know what she's planning but… she looks like she's enjoying it." He smiled lightly. "So why not? Less work for me too."

"LET'S GET A MOVE ON, PEOPLE! WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!" Out of view, Sasha shouted.

"We literally have all day! The party's tonight!"

"It's a figure of speech!"

When Sasha was 8, she planned her first party. She had drinks, food, decorations and all sorts of fun activities for everyone to enjoy. She invited so many of her friends and they all had a grand time, Sasha especially. Since that momentous day, she enjoyed being the planner, whether for parties or hangouts or just random events. And over the years, she got really good at it too.

At the outskirts of where the bash would take place, a crowd of amphibians gathered, chatting amongst themselves. The party would begin at exactly 8pm and end at 1am, an hour after midnight. In a single day, the invitations were drawn and distributed to everyone, made using only black parchment and white markers, plus a little bit of glitter glue.

Seeing the stylish invitations, they were instantly hooked. Though, the disfigured art style definitely killed the mood a bit.

Just 2 minutes before the party started, Sasha snapped her fingers and slowly, music began playing. The beating of the drums and the blaring of trumpets, audible from outside. The moment the music kicked in, everyone shifted their gaze to the entrance. The bouncer, a gruff-looking hillbilly frog from out of town who goes by the name Jelly, heard his cue and so, lifted the velvet rope.

As the partygoers stormed inside, what they came across was beyond their wildest expectations. When Sasha designed the party, she wanted it to be based on the best parties in history. And she was no fool; she did her research back on Earth. Racking up her brain for ideas, that's when it hit her.

The best parties in history took place in a specific period. A period that, despite the harsh difficulties, social and economic fallouts, and worldwide pandemics, ended up being remembered as one of the greatest and wildest decades in American history.

The Roaring 20s.

Black, white and gold, plus a little pink for a personal touch. The floor was littered with gold and silver glitter along with rainbow confetti and exciting streamers wrapped all over the tables and chairs. All over, fireflies trapped in bubbles floated around, giving the event a much-appreciated pizazz.

The dance floor was simple polished planks of wood where, right beside it, a stage stood for the bash's open-door performances. Next to it, the musicians continued their song on a separate stage, blowing their wind instruments and tapping their keys. Not only would partygoers be able to show off their dance moves, but they could also do it with style.

As for meals, the nearby tables were full of delectable dishes, savoury snacks, gleaming cold desserts and colourful fruit cocktails, obviously non-alcoholic. Waiters lined up by the entrance, trays of entrees in their hands and some with tall glasses of sparkling kid-friendly champagne. All this lined up to the centre of the venue; a fountain spewing out apple juice with cherries floating in the pond below.

In front of them, Sasha, in a cute sky-blue evening gown with pearl earrings and elbow-long gloves, her hair tied to a braided bun with a flapper headband, lifted a champagne glass. "Ladies and gentlefrog—" She greeted before the backdrop lit up with fireworks. "Welcome to the best party of the year."

On the same stage, a pair of frogs, one wearing shutter shades and a top hat, and another with floaty blue hair and wearing a black silky dress, held their vintage microphones.

The Swinghoppers & Wolfgang Lohr - Party Like It's 1920

[ We've been waiting for this decade for a hundred years,

But now, the 2020s are finally here,

And while my vision is clear, my mission is clearer,

To bring back the Jazz and Swing era Fellas.

I wanna see you dressing better than ever,

And girls, put on your pearls and your tassels and feathers.

Let's get together and throw a bash, that's such a smash,

It would make Gatsby jealous!

We're gonna take it back to the real old school,

Where dressing up and having fun is the only rule,

And I don't wanna sound like a hipster, but I partied like the '20s before it was cool! ]

[ Welcome everybody to this special event!

It's the party of the century, so let it commence!

We've got music, we've got booze and we've got plenty of friends!

So let's party like it's 1920 again! ]

After watching the opening, the crowd cheered to their hearts' content. They all rushed in and spread all over the venue, party fever slowly but surely building in their nerves. Sasha knew full well how to rile up the visitors. After all, the opening act was the most important part of the party and it needed to be spectacular.

While the party raged on, Ivy Sundew, daughter of Felicia Sundew, stared at the floating lights above her. "Fireflies in bubbles? How'd you do that?"

Maddie, who stood beside her, shrugged. "Alright, so I may have been cultivating some fireflies from the festival in my basement. It's not illegal or anything."

Ivy blinked. "It's not?"

"Not as long as it doesn't destroy the ecosystem." Maddie said coolly, taking a sip of her fruit cocktail. It was the non-alcoholic kind which was a shame. She was really curious about 'adult' drinks.

Meanwhile, on stage, Sprig and Polly performed their bit. It was more or less the same as the one they practised in that alleyway but now, Polly was wearing a rock star's makeup and her flails were on fire, and Sprig was wearing a baby-blue glittery butterfly outfit. No one said a word as they did their act.

The minute they finished, the two kids bowed.

The crowd went wild.

About half an hour in, everything seemed to still be going well. The townsfolk were enjoying themselves, talking about various topics such as the best way to juice a lemon or how their cousin died in a war against antlions. And occasionally, Sasha would even chime in, bringing up her own opinions and keeping the conversations going, all while waiters walked by with snacks and drinks.

Hop Pop, who watched as the bash bashed away, smiled. "Nice work, Sasha! I'm impressed! Your plan ended up with a pretty decent party."

"Keh, not my first rodeo. I've planned parties for all my friends. This is nothing."

Hop Pop chuckled. "Ya don't say? Maybe you can plan Sprig's birthday in a few months. Usually, we just buy cake and accidentally burn the house down." He said but oddly, there was no reply. "Sasha? Were you listening?"

Turning around, he found Sasha in her wheelchair, her head drooped downwards with her eyes closed shut, snoozing quietly. Slowly, she sank even lower, all while holding a clipboard. Hop Pop's brows rose and he gently shook her by her shoulders. "Sasha?"

"Wuh? Buh? Where am I? What happened?!" Sasha blubbered awake, quickly wiping the drool from her mouth. Blinking a few times, she remembered it all. "Oh, right. Party."

Hop Pop sulked worriedly. "Sasha, you tired. I know you're having a hard time sleeping the past few days but maybe you should head back home. I'll make you some of my — and by mine, I mean grandmamma Plantar's — famous instant-sleep coffee! It'll drop you dead for the next 8 to 10 hours, if not forever!"

"What? No. I'm not going to bed. Not right now." Sasha protested. "I'm the party manager — by the way, I gave myself a promotion — and the party manager doesn't get to party or rest. Everything has to run smoothly until the end of the night."

Hop Pop crossed his arms. "Well, not tonight, you're not. Wally!"

Suddenly, from a nearby bush, Wally burst out, wearing a smaller bush as a disguise. "I'm here too!"

"Wheel her to Bessie at the outskirts of town!"

"Got it!" Wally said, saluting. Without a pause, he grabbed hold of Sasha's wheelchair's handlebars and pushed the poor girl, heading straight towards the exit.

Sasha screamed. "W-WOAH, WHAT'S GOING ON?!"

"You're going to take Bessie back home and you're going to bed! End of discussion!"

Sasha baulked at the old frog. That was her line! He stole her line!

How dare him.

"YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DOOOOOOOO!"

The performance was a success.

Prior to the party, Sprig and Polly were tasked to provide entertainment. There was a small stage built and ready for them too. And Sprig and Polly, being Sprig and Polly, were very good at entertaining people. So good that in an alternate universe, they could probably work as either conmen or stage performers.

So immediately after being issued the responsibility, they got to work. Now, entertaining the citizens of Wartwood wasn't difficult; they were easily excitable people. But that didn't mean they got to be half-butt about it. Thus, with the combined wits of a 10-year-old and a 5-year-old, they hatched up a plot only a 15-year-old could make.

The crowd loved it. All according to plan.

Once their show was done, the two siblings stepped off stage to enjoy the rest of the bash as guests. Grabbing a bowl of boomshroom soup, he dipped a few slices of garlic bread and gobbled them up. He wasn't sure what boomshroom soup was but he had a feeling there was no better pairing than boomshroom soup and garlic bread as if it's written in his very soul.

The soup was also pulsating a blue glow but that's probably nothing.

"Yo, Sprig!" A voice shouted. Turning around, Sprig found Ivy and Maddie walking up to him. "Nice show! It was super cool!"

Sprig blushed. "Oh hey, Ivy. And, uh, thanks! Glad you liked it. Polly and I spent all afternoon on it."

"Man, I would've loved to do my own performance but instead, I got stuck with table duty with my mom." Ivy grumbled. "But hey, it's better than nothing. I got to set tables, you get to put on a show and Maddie got to put fireflies in bubbles."

Sprig gasped. "Oooh, that was you? It looks super pretty."

Maddie looked away, blushing slightly playing with her hair on the side. "W-well, it wasn't much."

"YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DOOOOOOOO!"

Just then, Sprig heard Sasha's angry shriek pierce through the air. Following the sound, he saw the teenager being pushed away by Wally, her wheelchair leaving tracks on the dirt. If the tone of her voice was of any clue, then oh boy was she not happy.

"Uh… Be right back." Sprig exclaimed, handing over the soup to Ivy. "Hold that please!"

Ivy looked at him, panicky. "W-wait, what am I supposed to do with— And he's gone." She said with a sigh. Turning to her side, she glanced at Maddie. "So… You want some?"

"I don't like soup."

"Suit yourself." Ivy said before casually popping the whole bowl's contents into her mouth like a trashcan.

No point in letting it to waste.

At the outskirts of Wartwood, Sasha was lying on the grass, staring into the night sky. Her wheelchair was parked nearby and so was Bessie, nibbling on some glowing mushrooms in the trough in front of her. Just beyond the outskirts of the grassy plains was a thick fog, blanketing the single small bridge separating Wartwood from up north.

Thankfully, Wally was at least kind enough to not insist on her going home, either because he knew he couldn't force her or because he desperately wanted to go back to the party. Who knows? Not that it mattered, considering the glee he had as he ran back to the venue.

In any case, she was effectively banned by Hop Pop, even after all the work she put in. That somewhat stung but for some odd reason, she couldn't feel mad at him. Maybe it's because he did it out of worry and not because she was inappropriate. After all, Loggle came to the party without a shirt, an act of defiance due to the lost statue.

It was both mesmerizing and horrible.

"Hey, Sasha! How's it going?" Sprig asked, his head peering from above.

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Oh. Hey, Sprig. Just… dandy, I guess." She said sarcastically. "I just got kicked out of a party I planned so 'dandy' seems appropriate. And right now, I'm just rebelling against him."

Sprig raised a brow. "By sitting on the grass in the outskirts of town?"

"If I go back home, then he wins. And I can't exactly go anywhere else."

"Oh, I get it." Sprig said, not actually getting it.

Without another word, he laid his back beside her, watching as the stars flew by. It's funny, how he had all the time in the world to watch the stars but never actually did. Maybe it's because he took for granted how one of the greatest sights in the world was just a full 90-degree tilt upwards.

Despite how bustling the party was nearby, the outskirts was dead quiet. All he could hear was the rustling leaves and swirling breeze.

"… Hey, Sasha?"

"Yeah, Sprig?"

"Good job on the party. It's so different than the ones we usually have." Sprig said, smiling. "I'm glad you were the party planner."

Sasha smiled. "Thanks, Sprig. You know, I heard from the old man that your birthday is in a few months. How about I plan yours too?"

Sprig's eyes widened in shock. "Woah! You can do that?"

Sasha snorted. "Please, I'm Sasha Waybright. Of course, I can. Besides, the first party I ever planned was for my 8th birthday. I know birthdays."

"Wait, you planned your own birthday party? Shouldn't your mom and dad do that for you?" He asked, eyebrow raised bewilderedly.

"Yeah, they should've." She answered, her tone tense. "But all they did was had a cake delivered and a bunch of wrapped presents in the closet. Tch, some effort. So, in the end, I decided to make my own celebration and had a bunch of dolls as stand-ins to, you know, actual people. Eventually, I got good at it too."

That… was not how he expected this conversation to go. Sprig glanced at her, seeing her downhearted. He always wondered what Sasha's parents were like and she rarely talked about them, if at all. Now, he understood that it was a touchy topic. But they're probably not that bad, right?

"You know… this is the first time I've actually heard you talk about your parents." Sprig claimed.

Sasha scoffed. "Really? Go figure." She said, rolling her eyes with loathing. "Well, you're not missing anything."

"I bet they miss you back on Dirt."

"It's 'Earth'. And how would you know?"

"I know I would."

Sasha stopped.

"Y-you would?" She asked, turning her head towards him. Sprig, who went back to watching the sky, saw a comet fly past and grinned.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I? I know that someday, you'll have to go back home and all but… I'll miss you."

It was weird to know that their bond was temporary. That, when Sasha finally found a way back, they'd no longer be able to stay as friends. From the get-go, their acquaintance was unlikely and yet, it thrived. Maybe it's because Sprig had a way with fuelling one's ego and that Sasha so happened to have a large one. It's a shame that it wasn't meant to last.

And yet, Sasha laughed. It didn't matter if their friendship would end one day. It was still here and that's all that counted.

"You are one sappy as heck dude, you know that?" Sasha said, her mood instantly lifted. "But thanks... for being my friend."

"Well, don't thank me yet! I'm still your BFF! It's Sprasha against the world!" Sprig stated, hopping on his feet.

Sasha lifted herself up and raised a brow. "We're going with Sprasha, huh? Alright, I'm cool with that." She nodded and shrugged. Lifting her hand, she pointed her fist at the boy frog and smiled. "Sprasha against the world."

Sprig, grasping what she meant, grinned widely and returned her gesture, bumping her fist with his. Unbeknownst to these two, this act would be their declaration of friendship, one built by equals. This was not something she'd have with anyone, not even her closest of friends.

To Sasha, it felt nice to act this way. Unfamiliar but nice. She'll miss it once this was all over. But for now, all she wanted to do was watch the stars.

Then, her eyes glowed pink.

"Someone's here." Sasha growled. Across a bridge connecting Wartwood with elsewhere, she looked through the fog and within, she saw a toad with a single scarred eye.

Recognising his cover was blown, the toad walked forward confidently, a vicious and unsettling smile drawn on his face. This toad was older than the ones she met before and if that scar was of any indication, then that meant he was some kind of boss. She already struggled against the goons and in her current state, she felt uneased at her chances.

The toad smiled wider, revealing his razor-sharp teeth. "You must be Sasha Waybright. A pleasure to meet you at last."

"You know me?"

"Oh, a certain friend of yours told me a lot about you." He said in a sickeningly sweet tone. Stepping to the side, a new figure emerged from behind, one taller and lankier than any toad, with thick bushy hair akin to that of a tree.

Despite the wardrobe change, there was no mistake. Her eyes widened in surprise, the pink fading from view.

"Anne?"