The Queen sits on her throne. She amuses the Infant on her lap. The formidable attributes of her power lie near at hand, the Golden Orb, the Thunderstick and other regal paraphernalia. In front of her, an immense crowd of frogs and toads, blue ones, is assembled, croaking in hoarse and piping tunes, a whole amphibian symphony. They are waiting for her to raise her eyes, so that she can decide what to do about this disgrace. They've been downsized, but a web-footed nation with a strong appetite for live flies is not that much competitive. Overall productivity has sunk down, even if it's still better than when she turned them into fluke-worms, some years ago. Basically, they want their own selves back. Their big problem, however, is that they've become too dumb to remember what they were in the first place. Some vague notion has been lingering in the backwaters of their tiny brains.

"'Twas some animal, for sure", a newt says. "Big hairy one, you're right", a salamander replies. "You mean, like our Queen ? What kind of animal is our Queen, anyway ? An ape ? Or an aardvark ?", a toad says. "Aardvarks have snouts", says the newt. "So does our Queen". "No she does not, you toad !". "Yes she does, you glob of snot !". The argument goes on for a while. "Man, we're in trouble", whine and pipe the frog choir in the soundtrack. Up there, the noise of the quarrel upsets the Infant, who was gently twisting Mummy's titties. He pinches one nipple too hard and she has to look down at what distresses him. She sees this endless, tiring, snivelling ocean of slimy creatures. She'll have to fix that soon, before the Kingdom's Gross Domestic Product drops too low to support the Civil List. Problem is, she does not remember what her subjects were before she changed them. Handling particulars does not befit Queens. Were they termites ? Ants ? Hyenas ? Man, she's in trouble. The Infant, who feels bereft whenever his