The Toad Stalkers

We set off from the start, drove carefully through the village, took a left at a crossroads, took the next right, and then after we rounded a bend, I said, "Oh Ducks". In front of us, in the right hand bank, was the back of a white board. It should have been on the left hand bank, facing us, with black letters on it. We were going the wrong way. That was bad enough on it's own, but half a dozen other cars could come haring towards us out of the darkness, and there wasn't room to pass. I found a narrow drive just beyond the board, finished turning round just as one of the half-dozen cars appeared, and sped back down the lane past the board while my navigator decided guessing would be quicker than re-plotting the map.

Pushing hard to try and make up the lost time, I spotted fluorescent jackets in the headlights, and shouted "Control". I slowed to a stop between two figures standing either side of the road with torches, and said "Are you a Secret Check?"

"No," was the answer, "We're the Toad Patrol".

We get called mad for going out at night in cars with maps and clues and trying to see who can get all the right roads, all the right codeboards, all the right controls, with the least amount of time lost. But there are also people in this world who'll stand in a lane in the dark, armed with fluorescent jackets and torches, scanning the hedgerows for emerging toads and helping them safely across the road. Do they keep score and see who can carry the most toads over? Do they weigh them, and award the prize based on greatest toad metre-gram? Do they count the number of spots on their little backs and write them down in books? Do they use stop-watches to see who got the quickest toad-transit? Do they use little pastry brushes to sweep the road clean ahead of it like a curling event? Do unscrupulous competitors use devices like decoy toad-callers or bait the banks with flies?

I have to know, it kept me awake last night.

And what do the Toads think of all this, do they even want to cross the road? Just supposing the toads simply come along to see what all the furtive noises are, and then find themselves dazzled by bright lights, picked up, examined, babbled at in strange voices, and finally set back down on the earth miles away from where they started, (in toad-terms). It must be like an alien abduction experience for them. There must be little toad-cults who believe the experience is a transcendental one, and counter-groups who claim those handled by the glowing yellow monsters are tainted and should be burnt at the stake. The council of elder toads have stated that there are no toad-abductees, the whole experience is a chemical aberration brought on by eating hallucinogenic flies.

I was going to develop this theme into a best-selling book that would finally make my fortune, but I got stopped by a disturbing thought. Maybe the toad patrols have a more sinister side to them. Supposing we get judged at the end of our lives, presented with a list of things we had done that had violated the rights of others creatures, and forced to wander around with our offences on a placard around our necks for eternity. What would you think of someone who was accused of molesting Toads?