Tuesday Night Toad

For the past three years or so... Jesus, has it really been that long? Yeah, three years. Anyway, during that time period I experienced something that I could only describe as being unusual. Perhaps even a little unnerving, if not a touch sinister, though I couldn't say exactly why I feel that way. But I'm getting distracted now.

One night about three years ago, I was just sitting on my bed, dicking around on the computer like normal. I remember that at some point I got up to use the bathroom and then came back to the computer. I guess that would have been around 19:00 or so. It was November, so it was dark by that time. Anyhow, it was after that piss break that I happened to look over toward the corner of my bedroom and see something.

At first I thought it was a rolled up sock or something like that. But when I looked at it again, later, I noted that it wasn't that at all. It was a toad. Just a normal, run-of-the-mill brown toad like you would see anywhere in these parts. Just sitting there, chilling out. Looking at me.

For awhile I simply stared at it, unsure what to do. I figured that it was just lost, and somehow got inside and found its way into my room. I was the only thing interesting in the room, so it was looking toward me. I kind of just went about my business normally, not really thinking that this would be any kind of issue. Just a wayward toad.

Around midnight, I was ready to curl up and get some sleep. The toad was still in the corner, looking at me. It didn't appear to have moved. Something about it was starting to weird me out. I thought about tossing it out into the yard, but it was pretty cold out, and I have no idea how toads deal with weather. I found and old shoebox full of tapes and dumped it out to make a shelter for the little guy... or girl I suppose.

It didn't struggle when I picked it up, and its eyes stayed fixed on me. I plopped it into the box and got into bed, not really thinking about what to do with the thing in the morning. I guess I thought I could take it to a pet store or a vet maybe.

The following morning, a Wednesday, the first thing I did when I woke up was check on the toad. The box was empty. I took a quick look around for the little guy, but I didn't see it or any evidence of it anywhere. It must have gotten out and found its way to some hiding spot. I didn't have much time to think about it before I had to get ready to go to work.

The next week, I had pretty much decided that the toad had managed to get back outside. I hadn't seen it since that one night. For a few days I was afraid that it might have died somewhere in my house and that I would be smelling dead toad for a few days. But if it had died, it did so politely, without making any stench.

My day progressed as usual. By the evening I was once again wasting my life and being unproductive, watching bizarre medical videos on Youtube. At a certain point, after watching some video about breast augmentation with lots of before and after shots, I realized I hadn't masturbated in over a week. Obviously this just wouldn't do, so I opened up a private tab on my browser and set off into the world of free pornography.

I wound up watching an old video clip of some girl giving a happy-ending massage to a dude who looked more like John Cena than I was comfortable with, but I persevered. At least until I caught something at the corner of my vision. An amorphous dark lump on my carpet. It was a toad. It looked to be the same toad from the previous week. I've been walked in on during some embarrassing situations, but nothing ever really made me as uncomfortable as I was at that moment, lying in bed, prick in hand, fake moans coming from tiny laptop speakers, in a mutual stare-off with a toad.

After a minute of so, I got off the bed, and pulled my boxers up, resulting in a massive trouser-tent, and walked over to the little creature. It just stared up at me, not looking at all fearful, just keeping its cool, toady face. I grabbed the shoebox from the previous week, dumped out the tapes again and this time, placed it upside down over the small animal. I figured that maybe it could jump out the top of the box, but not  crawl out from under it. For good measure, I put a couple of books on top of the overturned box.

I went back and lay down with the intention of finishing the business at hand (pun intended) but the mood had been totally ruined. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't get back into the groove, and eventually wrapped myself up in my blanket. I was going to put on a movie and go to sleep, but there was a nagging sense in the back of my mind. Unable to relax enough to get to sleep, I recognized what was bugging me.

I got up and grabbed a pencil off of my nightstand. I walked a few feet to the spot where the toad was hidden under the overturned box and knelt down to poke some air-holes into the sides and top of the cardboard. When I got to my knees and reached to remove the books from the top of the box, I saw the there was a toad a foot or so away, looking at me. I couldn't believe it. Another friggin' toad?

I lifted the box and was going to scoot the new toad in, but the box was empty. Although I couldn't see how, the toad had gotten out and was now staring at me. That at least made more sense than a second toad entering my room. So I finished poking holes in the box, and plopped it on top of the calm amphibian. This time I added some extra books on top so weigh it down more. These little guys must be stronger than I imagined.

I managed to fall asleep eventually, peeking across the room at the box every now and again. No change. I woke up the next morning, and went to check the box. I knelt down and slid the books off the shoebox which had bulged slightly from their weight. I flipped the box up onto its side. No toad.

Things continued like this for a little while. I would see the toad, always on the same night of the week, Tuesday, and I would try to trap him or toss him outside. Each time, whether quickly or after a short while, I would look away, or leave the room and the thing would be back, squatting on the carpet, staring up at me. Following my movements. Aside from turning to look at me, I never saw the lumpy little guy move. He never ate anything, never croaked, never slept, and only occasionally blinked.

I kept trying to box him up, cover him, put him outside the room and shut the door. But without fail, at some point he would be back on the floor, little toad neck craned up at me. There was a period of weeks around this time that I felt extremely uncomfortable with this whole situation. I didn't understand how this was happening. I tried searching online for other such instances, explanations of how it could keep getting into my house and my bedroom undetected, how it was able to either lift, or crawl out from heavy burdens and so on. A few times I put the toad in the corner of my sock drawer. Every time I checked back, he was in there, but as soon as I had looked away for a while, he wound up back on the carpet again. No evidence of any drawers being opened.

I took to going out on Tuesday nights with friends or sometimes on my own. I'd hit bars and chat with people. Anything to keep my mind from that weird, persistent, toad. One week, I met this gorgeous brunette from out of town at a local bar. She bought me a drink and we got talking. She was in town for the night, passing through on business and was looking for a place to stay until the next morning. She was practically begging me to take her back to my place for the night. I'm not too proud to take a lay in return for overnight room and board. She was cute, and I was in a dry spell that the Mojave look like a sandbox.

I was totally ready to get out of the bar and invite this woman back home with me. But as the invitation was halfway up my throat, I thought about the damn toad, and the words got stuck. I knew that the little fucker would be there, a five-ounce, warty cock-block. So with both the angel and demon on my shoulders telling me to go for it, I just couldn't. I knew that even if she didn't notice, or wasn't freaked out by the toad, I'd know it was there, staring at me. Despite this girl's full, red lips and pneumatic figure, I'd be lucky to get a half chub, let alone be able to give her a proper pounding. Dammit.

So I made up some excuse about my roommates, who don't actually exist mind you, having company over or some horseshit. I could tell she was kind of pissed to have wasted her time on a flake and not get a room for the night. No matter. I decided I ought to head back home shortly thereafter. When I got there and stepped into my bedroom, Mr. Toad was squatting down on the carpet as usual.

I had a nice buzz going, and decided to tell my toad roommate about the shagging he had cost me. Toad just kept on looking at me, blinking every once in a while as I yammered on, telling him to fuck himself and that the next time he had a date with a lady toad, I would be there to ruin it for him. Eventually I rolled into bed and went to sleep. I just left the toad out for the night.

And this is how things have been going. I try to avoid thinking about the little amphibian, I haven't talked to anyone about it the whole time this has been going on. I don't even know where to start. If I tell people it's my pet toad, how can I account for the other six days of the week when it isn't anywhere to be found? If I explain what has actually been happening, will I sound like a fucking lunatic? It's not like the toad is hurting anything or causing me much trouble. It just creeps me out.

I've pretty much gotten used to the way things have been with this Tuesday night roommate of mine. I mind my business, and so does he. He spends the evening staring at me week after week. Thought I think it's been grating on me and I'm having trouble ignoring that anymore. I just can't explain how why this would happen.

But last Wednesday morning, something was different. I woke up, knowing full well that the toad would be gone for another week. Yet when I sat up in bed, I saw a brown lump on the carpet near my bedroom door. I went up and looked at it. It was the toad lying on its back. Dead, cold and withered. It had been alive and well last I saw it the night before. And it looked now like it had been dead for at least a few days.

This really threw me off. I guess I kind of just expected that things with the little creature would continue indefinitely. I was pretty sure that if I ever moved, the toad would find me. I mean, I guess there are worse things to have to put up with, more unsettling and unexplainable things that could have happened. But at least I was used to this. It was pretty much the only thing that I could count on without fail. On Tuesday night, the toad would be staring at me all night. On Wednesday morning, he would be gone.

The reason I bring this up now, is that it's the first Tuesday night since I found the toad dead. I didn't know what to expect, but I planned on being in for the night. About a half hour before I started writing this, I went to the bathroom. When I came back into my room and sat on my bed, I looked into the far corner. I saw a blackish hump sitting there. I went up to is to check it out, a little scared. It appears to be some kind of turtle. The shell is kind of ridged, and this creature is about ten to twelve inches in length. As I'm writing this, its neck is craned over, looking at me. It's been that way since I started typing.

I'm not exactly sure what to think about this. Should I bother trying to box it up? Should I try to take it outside? I don't know anything about this animal, and I'm not sure I want to sleep here if it's going to be watching me all night. Maybe I'll head out for a bit, but what if it hides while I'm away? Is this going to be like the toad? Will this creature now visit me every week? What will the next animal be after this turtle dies?

This is the first Tuesday night in a long time that is going somewhat differently from what I expected, and I don't like it. I'm just not sure what to do.

Written by: Urkelbot666