Writings - Kikko the Frog

Another one of my youth writings back in the 80s/ 90s, a bit polished up, it's about a frog god named Kikko,

In the highest, fluffiest clouds of heaven sat Kikko, a plump, emerald-green frog with a golden crown perched slightly askew on his head. He lounged on a throne carved from cloud-stuff, gazing over his tiny heavenly kingdom. Beside him, as always, were his trusted advisors: Haggis, the intelligent lizard with an air of deep contemplation, and Sallam, the... less intelligent lizard who often wore a confused expression. Then there was Croco, the god of crocodiles—huge, toothy, and eternally hungry. Croco’s belly rumbled loudly, as it often did.

"Ah, another perfect day in my divine realm," Kikko croaked proudly. "Do you know, it reminds me of the time I created the world. Ah, those were the days. I remember it clearly—"

Kikko continued, "So on the first day, I created..."

Sallam’s eyes glazed over instantly. Haggis, however, was quick to act, nudging Sallam and whispering, "Quick, say something so we can get out of this."

"Uh, yes, Lord Kikko," Sallam stammered, snapping back to attention. "That sounds fascinating, but—uh—I just remembered! I, uh, need to... polish my scales. Very important business."

"Yes, yes, me too!" Haggis chimed in, tapping his own scaly head. "I’ve got some... thinking to do. Really deep, important thoughts. You know how it is."

Kikko narrowed his big, bulging eyes at his advisors. He was no fool, but before he could say anything, Croco interrupted with a booming, "I’m hungry. Can we eat yet?" His massive tail swayed behind him, nearly knocking Sallam off his feet.

Kikko sighed, adjusting his crown. "Nobody appreciates me up here. I think it's time I go down to Earth. I should check on my subjects. See how they worship me."

"Yes, excellent idea," Haggis said with a sly smile. "I’m sure they’ll be... thrilled to see you."

A Little While Later on Earth...

Kikko descended from the clouds, floating down majestically to his domain: two tiny, unknown islands in the middle of the ocean. The frogs on these islands were humble farmers, toiling away in the fields when Kikko made his grand entrance.

"Behold! Your god has arrived!" Kikko announced, arms wide, expecting cheers and adoration.

Instead, the frogs stared at him. One frog, a grizzled old farmer, scratched his chin and muttered, "Isn’t that the guy who made it rain that weird acidic stuff last week?"

"Yeah!" another frog piped up. "My carrots withered after that storm!"

Kikko puffed out his chest, trying to maintain his divine dignity. "Ah, yes... well, you see, that rain was actually a little bit of—"

One of the younger frogs interrupted, picking up a rock. "Wait, was that your spit? You spit on us?!"

Kikko blinked, sensing the mood turning. "Now, now, let’s not be hasty. It’s... divine spit. Very holy. Good for the soil, in moderation."

"Oh yeah?" the frog said, brandishing the rock. "Let’s see how you like a taste of our 'divine' stones!"

In an instant, the frogs were chasing Kikko, throwing pebbles and shouting angrily. The mighty god of a minuscule domain sprinted through the fields, hopping desperately to avoid the barrage of stones.

"It's hard to be a good god!" Kikko croaked, leaping over a cabbage patch as rocks flew past him. "Nobody warned me it would be this hard!"

He managed to escape, panting heavily, his crown slightly crooked. As he retreated into the woods, he sighed, casting a look back at the chaos.

"Why don’t they appreciate me?" he muttered, shaking his head. "I give them rain! I visit from heaven! And yet... all I get are stones. Maybe I should’ve stuck to ruling from above."

Back in heaven, Haggis and Sallam were watching the whole scene from a cloud.

"Well, that went about as well as expected," Haggis said dryly.

"Do you think we should’ve warned him?" Sallam asked, scratching his head.

"Nah," Haggis smirked. "He’ll figure it out eventually."

Kikko sat beneath a broad-leafed tree, sulking and rubbing his sore back where a particularly sharp pebble had struck him. "Ungrateful frogs... I give them life, rain, existence, and they pelt me with stones. It’s truly hard to be a god." He glanced upward, half-expecting a chorus of heavenly angels to agree, but only a lone bird squawked and flew away.

Suddenly, a loud rumble echoed through the forest. Kikko froze, his large froggy eyes widening. "Please don't let that be Croco," he muttered. But the rumble came again, and soon a familiar, towering figure emerged from the bushes. It was Croco, the god of crocodiles, waddling towards him with his massive jaws slightly open.

"There you are!" Croco bellowed. "I’m starving! Are there any frogs to eat down here?"

Kikko groaned, massaging his temples. "Croco, please. I just barely escaped with my life. The frogs don’t exactly see me as a benevolent god right now. And no, you cannot eat them!"

Croco plopped down beside Kikko, his weight causing the ground to shake. "Why not? They’re your subjects, aren’t they? A couple of frogs here and there won’t hurt."

Kikko shot him a look. "That’s exactly why they threw rocks at me! I’ve been spitting on their crops and ruining their harvests, and now you want to eat them? Do you have any idea how bad that would look? I'm trying to build goodwill here, not turn my subjects into snacks!"

Croco scratched his scaly chin, clearly not understanding the complexities of godhood. "But I’m really hungry..."

"You're always hungry!" Kikko snapped, feeling his patience wear thin. "Why don’t you go back to heaven and have Haggis whip up some clouds for you to chew on?"

Croco huffed. "Clouds don’t fill me up."

"Well, I’m out of ideas!" Kikko threw his hands in the air. "Maybe I should just abdicate. Let someone else deal with these ungrateful frogs!"

Just as Kikko was about to further lament his fate, a rustling sound caught his attention. Out of the bushes emerged a group of frogs—these ones younger and smaller than the ones from the village. They gazed up at Kikko with wide, curious eyes.

"Hey, it’s the big frog from the sky!" one of them croaked. "Are you really a god?"

Kikko straightened up immediately, smoothing out his royal cape. "Well, yes, yes I am! I am Kikko, your divine ruler and the creator of the heavens and Earth!" He struck a dramatic pose, hoping to regain some dignity.

"Cool!" one of the young frogs said, hopping closer. "Can you do any tricks?"

"Tricks?" Kikko blinked. "I... well, I can... make it rain! Yes! Witness my power!" He cleared his throat and, with a determined look, spat a small blob of saliva into the air.

Dark clouds immediately began to gather overhead, and a light drizzle fell upon the forest. The young frogs cheered, hopping in delight under the rain, completely oblivious to the acidic nature of Kikko's spit.

"This is awesome!" one of the frogs shouted. "We love rain!"

Kikko couldn’t help but smile. Finally, some appreciation! "Yes, yes, bask in the glory of your god’s blessings!" He puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying the moment.

But then, just as things were looking up, Croco let out a deafening roar. "RAIN?! I can't eat rain!" He flopped onto the ground, his tail swishing back and forth, throwing a small tantrum.

The young frogs stared up at Croco in awe and fear. "Who's that?!" one of them squeaked.

"That," Kikko said, with an exasperated sigh, "is Croco. The god of crocodiles and, apparently, my eternal headache."

"Can he do any tricks?" one of the frogs asked innocently.

Kikko chuckled darkly. "Oh, you don’t want to see his tricks."

One of the bravest young frogs hopped right up to Croco. "Hey, Mister Crocodile God, can you show us your trick?"

Croco blinked his large, reptilian eyes and leaned in, his jaws creaking open just slightly. "Well... I can show you how I eat frogs in one gulp!" he said, baring his teeth.

The young frogs scattered immediately, their cheerful croaks turning into panicked squeals. Kikko sighed deeply, rubbing his temples again.

"Croco, please! You can't go around scaring my worshippers. It’s bad for business."

Croco tilted his head, confused. "But you said they were ungrateful. I thought I was helping."

Kikko shot him a glare. "There’s a difference between discipline and devouring, Croco."

Just then, Haggis and Sallam appeared, descending from the clouds. Haggis, with his usual smug look, approached the still-drizzling Kikko.

"Well, well, well," Haggis said, surveying the scene. "Looks like your little vacation to Earth is going just swimmingly, Lord Kikko."

"Don’t start," Kikko grumbled, crossing his arms.

"We came to check on you, to see if you'd need help reigning over your 'vast domain,'" Haggis continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Sallam, as usual, just blinked and smiled, oblivious to any deeper meaning.

Kikko shot him a look, his pride bruised. "It’s hard to rule over anything when your subjects either pelt you with rocks or flee in terror."

"Well," Haggis mused, "perhaps next time, don’t spit on their crops. Might improve relations."

Kikko sighed deeply, feeling utterly defeated. "I just wanted to be a good god..."

Sallam, in a rare moment of clarity, piped up. "Maybe... maybe being a good god isn’t about raining on their parade. Maybe it’s about, I dunno... listening to them? Talking to them? Like... without the spitting part."

Kikko paused, staring at Sallam in surprise. "Sallam... that was actually a good idea."

Sallam grinned proudly. "Really? Thanks, Lord Kikko!"

"Don’t get used to it," Haggis muttered.

Kikko shook his head, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Maybe you’re right, Sallam. Maybe it's time I tried a different approach." He stood up, dusting off his royal cloak. "Next time, I’ll talk to the frogs—no spitting, no tricks. Just... honest conversation."

Croco groaned loudly. "Ugh. Does this mean no more frogs for dinner?"

"Yes, Croco," Kikko sighed. "No more frogs for dinner."

As the group ascended back to heaven, Kikko couldn't help but feel a little more hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, being a god wasn’t about showing off powers or demanding praise. Maybe it was about being a little more... relatable.

And for the first time in a long while, Kikko thought that maybe, someday, the frogs would see him as more than just a distant figure who spit from the sky.

But as the clouds parted to reveal the heavenly palace, Croco's stomach let out another thunderous growl.

Kikko sighed. "Then again, maybe not."

Back in heaven, Croco wandered off to his favorite place in the divine palace: the fridge. Made entirely of swirling clouds and starry bits of the cosmos, the heavenly fridge was filled with Croco’s idea of paradise—sausages, pudding, heavenly meat pies, and various delicacies made of pure divine matter. Croco, drooling, pulled open the fridge door and grabbed an armful of food.

"Finally!" he growled in satisfaction, stuffing sausages into his massive jaws. "No frogs, but this’ll do."

Meanwhile, in the grand hall of the palace, Kikko stood before a massive cloud-covered altar, staring intently at an ancient scroll. He’d found it buried deep in the archives—an old spell that promised to bring a storm that could fertilize the earth like no other.

"This is it!" Kikko declared with excitement, waving the scroll around. "This will definitely help my frog farmers. I’ll bring them the storm of a lifetime!"

Haggis, standing nearby, adjusted his spectacles and looked at Kikko with deep concern. "Lord Kikko," he began, choosing his words carefully, "I strongly advise against casting that spell. It's... well, old. Unpredictable. And knowing you, things might get a bit... out of hand."

"Nonsense!" Kikko scoffed, waving off Haggis’s warning. "This is exactly what my people need. They’ll thank me when their crops grow taller than ever before! Besides, I’m the god here, remember? I know what I’m doing."

Haggis sighed, rubbing the bridge of his snout. "You’re the god, all right," he muttered under his breath. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you."

With great ceremony, Kikko began the ritual. He croaked a series of ancient incantations, summoning swirling clouds from the heavens. The skies darkened, and thunder rumbled ominously as he called forth the storm. Bolts of lightning crackled through the air, and a fierce wind howled, making even the palace shake.

"Behold!" Kikko croaked triumphantly. "The perfect storm for my loyal subjects!"

Haggis grimaced, clearly not convinced. "Let’s just hope this storm doesn’t end up drowning the entire island."

Later, on Earth...

Kikko descended to the islands once more, expecting to be greeted by joyous frogs dancing in their lush fields. But as soon as his feet touched the soggy ground, he knew something had gone terribly wrong. The land was completely waterlogged. The earth was so wet that frogs were sinking into the mud, barely able to pull their boots free.

"Lord Kikko!" one of the farmers croaked angrily, hopping over—his legs half-buried in the muck. "Look what you've done! We can't even walk without sinking!"

Another frog, waist-deep in mud, waved his arms wildly. "Our fields are ruined! We’re stuck, and our crops are drowning!"

Kikko's eyes bulged. "But—but this was supposed to help! It was supposed to fertilize your fields!"

One of the frogs, still sinking, shook his head furiously. "Help? All you've done is turn our fields into a swamp! You’re ruining everything!"

Before Kikko could defend himself, a cannon appeared from the nearby hill. The frogs, clearly at their wits’ end, had wheeled out an ancient, rusty cannon, aiming it straight at their "divine" ruler.

"Wait, wait!" Kikko croaked, raising his arms. "Let’s not be hasty!"

But the frogs, enraged, loaded the cannon with a large cannonball and fired. The cannonball shot through the air with a deafening boom and smacked directly into Kikko’s belly, sending him flying back into the nearby forest. With a loud "splat," he crashed into a tree and slid down into the mud, groaning in pain.

"Oof..." Kikko grunted, laying sprawled on the ground, covered in muck and leaves. "That... hurt." He lay there for a moment, gathering his strength, before slowly pulling himself up. His crown was crooked, his royal cloak torn, and his belly ached from the cannonball.

"Phew..." he muttered, rubbing his sore belly. "Luckily, I’m a god... and immortal. Otherwise, that would’ve been the end of me."

As he limped through the forest, he could hear the distant croaks of the frogs still complaining, stuck in their muddy fields. Kikko sighed, feeling defeated once again.

"Maybe Haggis was right," he muttered to himself. "Perhaps my approach needs... some refining."

Back in heaven, Haggis, observing everything through his magical viewing cloud, shook his head and turned to Sallam, who was staring blankly at the screen.

"You know," Haggis said, "being a god is harder than it looks."

Sallam nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! It’s, like, really hard to make people not mad at you when you're messing up their crops."

Haggis sighed again. "If only someone could convince Kikko of that."

Commander Falcon flew high above the clouds, his sleek jet slicing through the air with precision. As always, his eyes scanned the horizon with disciplined focus. Flanked by two other jets, his patrol was a symbol of power and order. Falcon prided himself on maintaining control, both over his squad and the skies.

Suddenly, a crackle came over the radio. "Commander Falcon, sir, we’re picking up some strange activity down below. An explosion, possibly from one of those small islands. Should we investigate? Maybe scan the area?"

Falcon’s brow furrowed, but not from concern. He knew exactly which islands they were flying over.

"Negative," Falcon responded, his voice calm but firm. "That's the territory of the god Kikko."

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Kikko? Who’s that?"

Falcon sighed, the weight of past encounters pressing on him. "Trust me," he replied, shaking his head slightly, "you wouldn’t want to know. Probably best we leave it alone."

Another pilot chimed in, curiosity getting the better of him. "Shouldn’t we at least check it out, Commander? What if it’s something serious?"

Falcon chuckled lightly. "With Kikko involved, it's probably not serious, but it’s definitely a mess. Perhaps I’ll pay him a visit later." With that, Falcon signaled for the formation to turn back to base, leaving the chaos below to unfold without their intervention.

Meanwhile, in heaven, Kikko and his advisors were sitting around a grand, floating table made of gleaming clouds, enjoying their evening feast. Plates filled with heavenly food hovered before them, the rich aromas filling the air. Kikko leaned back in his chair, clearly satisfied after the chaotic events of the day.

"Ahhh, nothing like a well-deserved meal after a long day of hard work!" Kikko croaked with a wide smile, helping himself to more food. He was, as usual, trying to ignore the fact that his “work” had resulted in more trouble than good.

Croco, seated beside him, was far less concerned with the day's troubles and far more focused on the massive heavenly steak in front of him. "I hear you, Kikko!" Croco growled between bites, chewing noisily. "This steak is incredible." He tore into the meat, utterly unconcerned with anything else.

Around the table, a few frog and lizard servants quietly scurried about, refilling plates and bringing more dishes. One of the lizard servants timidly approached, bowing slightly before placing a fresh plate of roasted clouds before Croco, who immediately devoured it.

Haggis, ever the composed one, raised an eyebrow as he nibbled on a delicate slice of divine fruit. "Quite the ‘productive’ day, wasn't it, Lord Kikko?"

Kikko puffed out his chest, pleased with himself despite the chaos. "Indeed! A little hiccup here and there, but overall... a success!"

Haggis sighed. "If by success you mean getting pelted by cannonballs, then yes. A smashing success."

Sallam, as usual, didn’t fully grasp the sarcasm. "I thought it was pretty cool!" he chimed in with a wide grin. "We got to see you fly!"

Kikko chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "All part of being a god. Immortality does have its perks."

As they continued their meal, oblivious to the chaos still unfolding on the islands below, Kikko smiled contentedly, ignoring the occasional uneasy glance from Haggis. At least, for now, the storm had passed... even if his next "brilliant idea" was surely just around the corner.

After the last chaotic day, where Kikko had been blasted into a forest by a cannonball and only narrowly avoided being pelted with more rocks, things had finally quieted down. At least, for now. In heaven, Croco was lounging in front of the fridge, Haggis was polishing one of his many ancient scrolls, and Sallam was snoozing in a corner, drooling onto a cloud cushion.

Kikko, on the other hand, had an idea brewing. He paced back and forth, his long froggy legs making soft plop sounds against the cloud floor as he thought aloud. “The frogs,” he began, pausing dramatically, “they just don’t get me. I mean, it’s not easy being a god, especially one with so much responsibility.” He puffed out his chest, though it deflated slightly when he remembered that his "domain" consisted of a group of small, very wet islands.

Haggis looked up from his scroll, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps if you stopped drenching them in acid rain, they might be more inclined to listen."

Kikko waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details. They don’t appreciate my divine gifts. But I’ve got a new plan—one that’ll finally get them to see me as the benevolent god I am!" He stopped pacing and clapped his webbed hands together, beaming.

Haggis sighed deeply. “Do I even want to ask?”

Ignoring him, Kikko continued, eyes twinkling with excitement. "A festival! A grand celebration in my honor! Music, food, dancing—oh, and frogs love dancing! I’ll give them the Great Frog Festival of Kikko!"

Sallam, stirring from his nap, rubbed his eyes groggily. "Festival? I love parties!"

Croco, who had been inspecting the fridge for the hundredth time that day, perked up at the word "food." "A festival, you say? Will there be... steaks?"

Kikko nodded enthusiastically. "Heavenly steaks for everyone! Well, metaphorically speaking, of course. I’ll make sure the frogs get the finest bugs and swamp water they’ve ever tasted."

Haggis, always the practical one, tilted his head. “And how exactly are you going to pull this off, Lord Kikko? Your last attempt at a ‘gift’ ended with frogs sinking into the mud and launching artillery at you.”

Kikko shrugged, unbothered. "This time will be different. No spells! Just good old-fashioned celebration, planned by me."

Down on Earth, the frog farmers were still recovering from the recent deluge. Crops were ruined, and their boots were still stuck in the thick, sticky mud. They muttered among themselves, exchanging grumpy looks, when suddenly a bright beam of light burst from the sky.

"Behold!" Kikko’s voice echoed dramatically as he descended from the heavens. The frogs groaned.

"Not again," one muttered.

Kikko landed softly on a stone platform, smiling grandly. "My loyal subjects! Rejoice, for I bring you great news! A festival! In my honor!" He paused for dramatic effect, waiting for applause. None came.

The frogs exchanged confused looks. “What... festival?” asked one, scratching his head.

Kikko spread his arms wide, a grand gesture to accompany his grand idea. “The Great Frog Festival of Kikko! A celebration like none before, with food, dancing, music—oh, and fireworks!” His eyes sparkled at the mention of fireworks. "We shall honor my divine reign in style!"

The frogs, who had just finished patching up their homes after the last "divine intervention," looked less than thrilled.

“Uh, Lord Kikko…” one brave frog stepped forward. “We’re still, uh, recovering from your last... ‘gift’.”

“Yeah!” chimed in another. “And what if it rains again? We’re still trying to dry out our fields!”

Kikko waved his hands dismissively. “No rain this time, I promise! Just joy, festivities, and maybe a small sprinkling of divine mist, for ambiance.”

Back in heaven, Haggis watched from the clouds, shaking his head. "This is going to be a disaster."

Croco, chomping on a new heavenly steak, grunted. "Disaster or not, I’m just here for the food."

Sallam, now wide awake and excited, chimed in. "I want to go! Can we join the festival? It sounds amazing!"

Haggis sighed. “Sallam, you do realize this ‘festival’ will probably end with Kikko being chased by pitchforks and rocks again?”

Sallam blinked. "Well... yeah, but it’s still a party!"

As the day of the Great Frog Festival of Kikko arrived, the frogs reluctantly gathered in the town square, eyeing the decorations with suspicion. Kikko had gone all out. There were brightly colored banners made of swamp reeds, frogs playing musical instruments (mostly croaking in rhythm), and even a giant statue of Kikko himself, made out of old green stone. The statue showed our friendly frog Kikko sitting in what looks like a lotus position.

Kikko hovered above the crowd, basking in the glory of his own genius. “Let the festival begin!” he croaked joyously, clapping his hands together. A loud crackle echoed in the distance, and suddenly, fireworks shot into the sky, exploding in vibrant colors.

For a brief moment, the frogs were actually impressed. Maybe, just maybe, this festival wouldn’t be so bad after all.

But then, one of the fireworks veered wildly off course, shooting directly into a nearby barn. The barn went up in flames, and the frogs erupted into chaos. Screaming, they grabbed buckets of swamp water, trying to put out the fire.

Kikko’s face fell as he watched the disaster unfold. "Oh, dear..."

Before he could react, the frogs turned on him, grabbing their pitchforks and stones once again. "KIKKO!"

Kikko sighed, raising his hands in surrender as the frogs charged. “I suppose... it’s hard to be a good god.” And with that, he leaped into the sky, disappearing into the clouds, leaving his "festival" in a smoldering mess below.

Back in heaven, Kikko landed with a thud, slightly singed and out of breath. Haggis looked at him, unimpressed. "Well, how did it go?"

Kikko, still brushing ash off his robes, smiled sheepishly. "Could’ve gone better."

Croco grinned. "Any steaks left?"

Sallam, ever the optimist, beamed. “Sounds like a success to me!”

It was a rare day of peace in Kikko's heavenly realm. Sallam, ever curious despite his limited intellect, was using the crystal ball to peer down at the group of islands under their domain. His tail wagged lazily as his gaze drifted over the frog villages. But then, his eyes widened.

“Haggis! Haggis!” Sallam cried, hopping up and down in excitement.

Haggis, the wise lizard, sighed, setting down an ancient scroll. “What is it, Sallam?”

“There’s a... a bad guy! A really bad guy!” Sallam pointed frantically at the crystal ball. “He’s pillaging the villages!”

Haggis walked over, peering into the orb. Sure enough, a large black figure was stomping through the village, knocking over cottages and stealing crops. It was a frog knight, clad in full black plate armor, wreaking havoc.

“I see,” Haggis murmured, his brow furrowing. “A black frog knight. Someone should definitely do something about that.”

Sallam beamed, puffing up his chest. “I’ll get Kikko! He’ll take care of it!” He waddled off excitedly, leaving Haggis shaking his head.

Kikko, reclining in his cloud throne, was halfway through a long and dramatic recounting of the time he “created the world” when Sallam burst in.

“Kikko! Kikko! The villages are in trouble! There’s a black frog knight down there destroying everything!”

Kikko blinked. “A... black frog knight, you say?”

Sallam nodded furiously. “You should go help!”

Kikko, ever eager for an opportunity to prove his greatness (and maybe earn some appreciation), puffed up his chest. “Very well! I shall descend and vanquish this villain!” Without hesitation, he floated down toward the islands, brimming with confidence.

Upon landing in the village, Kikko was greeted not by cheers of gratitude, but by stones and angry shouts from the already disgruntled frog farmers.

“Get out of here, Kikko! You’ve caused enough trouble!” one villager yelled, waving a pitchfork.

“Leave us alone!” another cried.

Kikko winced as a particularly sharp rock hit his head. “Now, now, my loyal subjects, I’ve come to help!” But the villagers continued their assault, chasing him toward a hill on the outskirts of the village.

Leaping over the hill in an attempt to escape the barrage, Kikko landed... directly on top of something—or rather, someone. The frog god blinked in surprise as his feet found themselves planted on the helmeted head of none other than the black frog knight.

The knight staggered, growling in rage. “Who dares—” He shook Kikko off, his glowing red eyes narrowing. “You’re the so-called ‘god’ of these pitiful islands?”

Kikko, now slightly nervous, nodded. “Uh, yes, that would be me.”

With a menacing snarl, the black frog knight drew his sword and charged at Kikko, his heavy armor clinking as he advanced. Kikko, in a panic, stepped to the side just in time, causing the knight to trip over a rock and tumble headlong off a cliff.

Kikko peered down over the edge, blinking in disbelief as the black frog knight’s armored body crashed onto the rocks below. The evil knight was defeated. Kikko stood there for a moment, mouth agape. “Did I... did I just...?”

Back in heaven, Haggis, Croco, and Sallam were watching the whole thing unfold from the crystal ball.

“Did he...?” Sallam asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“He did,” Haggis confirmed, shaking his head. “By sheer accident, but yes, he defeated the knight.”

“Nice move!” Croco added, grinning. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Down on Earth, Kikko quickly composed himself, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Of course I defeated him! Ha! I told you I was a great god.”

Realizing he needed to make a grand show of this victory, Kikko raised his arms and summoned a few frog angels—ethereal frogs with shimmering wings. “Bring the body of the evil knight to the villagers,” he commanded.

The frog angels appeared, blinking as they eyed the knight’s heavy, black armor. One angel grumbled, “This is going to be heavy...” Another sighed, grabbing the knight’s legs.

As they began dragging the body toward the village, their complaints grew louder. “Why did he have to be wearing full plate?” one muttered. “Why not a nice lightweight tunic?”

Kikko ignored them, floating triumphantly behind the procession, already imagining the praise he was about to receive.

When the villagers saw the defeated black frog knight, they stopped in their tracks, staring in disbelief. Kikko had actually done something right. For once. They slowly gathered around the knight’s body, murmuring to each other.

“He... he did it,” one frog said.

“Could it be that Kikko... saved us?” another asked.

And then, as if on cue, a cheer went up from the crowd. “Kikko! Kikko! You saved us!”

Kikko stood tall, basking in the praise. “Yes, yes! Rejoice, for your god has vanquished this terrible foe!”

Back in heaven, Haggis shook his head again. “Unbelievable. Pure luck.”

Sallam, grinning from ear to ear, clapped his hands. “He’s a hero! I knew he could do it!”

Croco chuckled, watching the celebration below. “Well, I guess even Kikko gets lucky sometimes.”

As Kikko floated back to heaven later that day, a wide smile on his face, he felt truly accomplished. For once, he hadn’t caused chaos. He had saved the day. He had... accidentally become a hero.

“Well,” he said to himself as he lounged back on his cloud throne, “I suppose it’s not so hard being a good god after all.”

But Haggis, overhearing, just sighed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The sun dipped low on the horizon as Commander Falcon soared high above the clouds, his jet slicing through the sky with precision. Below, the shimmering group of islands that made up Kikko’s realm drifted lazily. Falcon’s sharp eyes scanned the horizon as his jet climbed higher, breaking through the wispy clouds until the grand floating palace of Kikko came into view—perched on fluffy clouds, illuminated by strange glowing light.

As Falcon descended, he always found himself searching a little too long for the landing pad. The endless expanse of white and grey clouds blended together, making it difficult to spot the illuminated platform. Luckily, a few frog angels stood at the ready, holding flashing signal signs in their hands, waving them like air traffic controllers to guide him toward the right spot.

At the edge of a line of clouds, a landing pad hovered, the soft hum of heavenly energy lighting it from beneath.

Falcon shook his head, sighing to himself. “This place… Every time.”

He banked the jet smoothly, descending toward the glowing landing pad and landing with a soft thud, the pad absorbing the weight of his aircraft. The engines powered down with a hiss, and Falcon stepped out, his polished boots touching the soft cloud-like surface.

Sallam, watching from afar, grumbled to himself, "Hey, isn't that Falcon? Why does Kikko even bother inviting him? The guy's just going to get us into more trouble..."

Meanwhile, Croco, already daydreaming about dinner, barely paid attention, muttering, "Hope Falcon brought some good food..."

As he approached the palace entrance, he saw Kikko himself, floating toward him with an enthusiastic wave.

“Commander Falcon! Welcome, welcome!” Kikko called, his wide frog-like grin plastered across his face.

Falcon gave a polite nod, his face stern but not unfriendly. He wasn’t exactly fond of Kikko, but over time, he had developed a strange sense of sympathy for the clumsy frog god. Somewhere deep down, Falcon held onto the faint hope that Kikko might one day be less... well, less Kikko. But as always, that hope was slim.

“I thought I’d drop by,” Falcon said, his voice as precise as ever. “I wanted to check how things are going on the islands.”

Kikko’s grin widened, and he gestured dramatically toward the clouds. “Oh, Commander, you wouldn’t believe the things that have happened lately! First, I accidentally saved my frog farmers from an evil black frog knight. And then, there was the whole business with the storm that got a little... out of hand.” Kikko shrugged as if it were a minor inconvenience. “It made the fields a bit swampy. But you know, I’m always trying to help!”

Falcon raised an eyebrow. “Accidentally saved them, you say?”

“Yes!” Kikko puffed out his chest, looking quite proud. “He fell off a cliff after I, uh, stepped aside. Completely planned, of course.” Kikko paused, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Well... mostly planned.”

Falcon sighed inwardly. Typical Kikko. He could already imagine the chaos that unfolded, but at least the villagers were safe this time—by sheer luck. “And how are the villagers?”

“Oh, they’re happy now! They even cheered for me!” Kikko said, smiling wide. “For once, they didn’t throw stones.”

“That’s… an improvement,” Falcon replied dryly. He glanced around, noticing a flicker of movement in the distance.

Haggis, the ever-wise lizard, watched from the shadows of the palace, his expression less than welcoming. He didn’t trust Falcon’s presence, even if he knew Kikko insisted on the commander’s visit. Haggis huffed to himself but eventually slithered forward, as he had to comply with Kikko’s wishes.

“Lord Kikko,” Haggis said in his usual calm yet disapproving tone. “You invited the commander for dinner?”

“Oh, of course! Commander Falcon, you must stay for a meal!” Kikko said excitedly, as if the idea had only just occurred to him. “We’re having something wonderful tonight—heavenly sausages and steak! Croco’s been eyeing the fridge all day!”

Falcon hesitated for a moment. Dinner with Kikko and his group wasn’t exactly high on his list of enjoyable activities. But then again, maybe it would give him some peace of mind, knowing he’d done his part by keeping an eye on Kikko and his islands.

“I suppose I could stay,” Falcon said, his tone neutral.

Haggis sighed softly, clearly less thrilled. “As you wish, Lord Kikko.”

The three of them made their way inside the palace, the vast halls of clouds and light shimmering around them. As they reached the dining room, Croco was already at the table, eyeing a plate of heavenly sausages hungrily, his jaws dripping slightly.

“Kikko, I was just about to dig in!” Croco said with a grin, already reaching for a steak.

“Patience, Croco, we have a guest!” Kikko said, waving his hand dismissively. He gestured for Falcon to sit. “Make yourself comfortable, Commander.”

Falcon took a seat, watching as the frog angels fluttered around, serving food with a sense of weary duty. He noticed Haggis lingering nearby, clearly still unhappy about his presence.

“So,” Falcon said, looking over at Kikko. “What’s next for you, Kikko? More... accidental heroics?”

Kikko laughed, not catching the sarcasm in Falcon’s voice. “Well, I’ve been thinking about some improvements! Maybe a new spell to help with farming. Haggis says it might go wrong, but I think it’ll be fine.”

Haggis, standing by the table, let out a low groan. “It will not be fine.”

Falcon smirked, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ll take your word for it, Haggis.”

The dinner went on with a mixture of odd conversations and Kikko’s boasting about his "heroic deeds." Falcon, though he’d never admit it out loud, felt a small bit of relief that, for now, the islands seemed safe. Even if Kikko was the reason for much of the chaos, somehow things managed to work out. For the moment, that was enough.

As Falcon left the palace later that evening, stepping back into his jet, he couldn’t help but glance back at Kikko’s floating realm. “Well,” he muttered to himself as the jet powered up, “at least he’s trying... sort of.”

With that, Falcon soared back into the sky, leaving the strange, clumsy god behind once again—knowing full well he’d probably be back sooner or later to clean up whatever mess Kikko caused next.

Kikko sat on his throne, lazily watching the puffy clouds roll by in his heavenly realm. It had been a relatively quiet day—no rainstorms from his spit, no disgruntled frog villagers throwing rocks, and no messes from Croco… yet. But there was an itch in Kikko’s mind, a nagging thought that something important was being missed.

“Hmm, maybe I need some wisdom,” Kikko mused aloud, tapping his chin.

From across the cloud palace, Haggis groaned softly, muttering, “Oh no… not him.”

“Yes! I shall consult Toadrick the All-Knowing!” Kikko proclaimed, as if the idea had just struck him like lightning. “He always knows what’s what.”

With a wave of his hand, Kikko summoned Toadrick. In an instant, the elderly toad appeared, shrouded in a mist of purple smoke that made no sense in the middle of the clouds. Toadrick’s glowing staff clinked on the ground as he shuffled forward, eyes closed and wearing a grand expression as though he had just arrived from the deepest realms of the cosmos.

“Ah, Kikko, you seek my wisdom,” Toadrick said, his voice deep and dramatic. “You have come to the right toad.”

Kikko nodded eagerly, “Toadrick, I have this strange feeling that something is wrong, but I don’t know what. I need your guidance!”

Toadrick waved a hand, his staff flickering with random colors. “Fear not, for I have the answer… to everything.” He paused for dramatic effect, then leaned in closer to whisper, “The answer lies... in the wind.”

Kikko blinked. “Uh, the wind?”

Toadrick nodded slowly, eyes still closed. “Yes, the wind. It blows from the west.”

“The west?” Kikko repeated, scratching his head. “But, um, what does that mean?”

“It means many things,” Toadrick said cryptically. “But only you can understand its true meaning.”

Before Kikko could ask another question, the palace doors burst open, and in marched Commander Plunk, resplendent in his golden frog armor. He looked every bit the regal commander, with a stern expression on his face, chest puffed out in pride. Behind him trailed a group of frog angels, though they barely gave Plunk a second glance as they floated about, chatting and waving their signal flags absentmindedly.

Plunk saluted Kikko with a crisp, militaristic gesture. “Lord Kikko! Reporting for duty, sir! I have ensured the frog angels are in tip-top shape and ready to defend your glorious kingdom!”

Kikko gave Plunk a lazy smile. “Ah, Commander Plunk, good to see you. How are things?”

Plunk, clearly taking his duties very seriously, replied, “All is well, my lord. The troops are well-prepared and on high alert. The frog angels have been performing their drills... though there was some confusion during the cloud-dodging exercise.”

Behind him, one of the frog angels was lazily floating in circles, occasionally pretending to flap its wings harder than necessary, but generally doing absolutely nothing of consequence.

Toadrick, watching all of this with one eye barely open, nodded sagely. “Yes, yes… this is all connected to the west wind. The drills, the laziness… it’s all part of the grand plan.”

Plunk blinked. “The west wind?”

Toadrick gave him a condescending look. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s an ancient secret.”

Meanwhile, Kikko was still puzzled. “But how does the wind have anything to do with our frog angels slacking off?”

Toadrick lifted his staff dramatically. “Ah, that is the question, my lord! The answer lies not just in the wind, but in… the direction of the wind.”

Kikko scratched his head again. “So… west?”

Toadrick nodded gravely. “Indeed. But also… north.”

Haggis rolled his eyes in the background, muttering, “This is why nothing gets done around here…”

Plunk, trying to remain composed despite his growing confusion, cleared his throat. “With all due respect, my lord, the wind aside, I do believe the frog angels could use some more discipline. They seem to respect me, but I… I feel they’re not fully listening to my commands.”

Kikko looked at the angel frogs, who were still floating lazily, throwing a frisbee between them.

“Nonsense, Plunk! Look at them—they’re hard at work!” Kikko declared, with a completely oblivious smile.

One of the frog angels, overhearing this, gave Plunk a thumbs-up and then continued playing frisbee. Plunk's eye twitched, but he kept his posture firm, hiding his growing frustration.

Toadrick suddenly tapped his staff against the floor, causing everyone to pause. “Enough distractions!” he said, sounding all-knowing. “The true problem is that the wind is fickle, and so too are your servants. You must embrace the flow and allow the frogs to follow the natural order of the clouds. Only then will peace and balance return.”

Kikko’s eyes widened. “Ah, I see! The natural order of clouds. Plunk, you need to embrace the… flow.”

Plunk stared at Kikko, utterly lost. “Uh… yes, my lord. The flow.”

Toadrick smiled, pleased with himself. “My work here is done. You’re welcome, Kikko. Remember: wind, clouds, and flow.”

With a dramatic flourish of his staff, Toadrick disappeared into another puff of purple smoke, leaving everyone slightly more confused than before.

Plunk stood silently for a moment, looking at the lazy frog angels still slacking off in the background, then sighed deeply. “Well, I guess I’ll go embrace the flow…”

Kikko, now filled with a sense of bizarre clarity, turned to Haggis, who just shook his head in disbelief. “You know this is going to cause more problems, right?”

Kikko grinned. “Nah, Haggis! I think I’ve finally cracked the secret to ruling a kingdom!”

As Plunk marched off to oversee the lazy frog angels once again, Kikko leaned back on his throne, feeling quite proud of the chaotic wisdom he had gained. Haggis simply sighed, knowing that chaos was likely only just beginning.

Kikko shuffled into his private room, humming a little tune to himself. The room was small and cozy, with soft clouds forming a comfortable carpet beneath his feet. In the corner stood his prized possession: an ancient film projector. Kikko pulled out an old film roll labeled "Creation of Earth: A Masterpiece by Kikko" and carefully loaded it into the projector.

As the film flickered to life, Kikko settled down with a grin. On the screen, images of his great work unfolded—day one, day two, each day showing the glory of his creation. "Ahh, those were the days," he muttered to himself, watching as rivers flowed and mountains rose at his divine command.

Suddenly, a soft hiss echoed through the room. Without warning, Snake II slithered into view, his scales gleaming from his recent vacation in a tropical paradise. He was quiet—too quiet.

"Kikko, I have returned from my vacatsssion," Snake II announced, causing Kikko to jump.

"Ahh! Snake II!" Kikko nearly spilled his popcorn. "Don’t sneak up on me like that! You know I hate being startled, especially when I’m watching my favorite movie."

Snake II smirked, his long body coiling elegantly around one of the chairs in the room. "I apologissse, my lord," he said, his voice thick with the signature snake-like accent, the 's' dragging on as he spoke. "I wasss just eager to return to coordinate our sssnake activitiessss on your issslandsss."

Kikko frowned and shook his head. "Snake II, you know the drill. You can’t just let your snakes slither around willy-nilly. Keep them away from my frog farmers—they’re already upset enough as it is. The last thing they need is to stumble across your scaly friends."

Snake II nodded slowly, his tongue flicking in and out. "Of courssse, my lord. I undersssstand. We’ll keep to our ssside of the issslandsss, far from your frogsss."

Kikko stood up from his chair, brushing off his robes. "Good, then let’s go down and check on them."

The two floated down to earth, descending from the heavens. When they arrived on the islands, the frog villagers were, as usual, less than thrilled to see Kikko. They eyed him warily, muttering among themselves and keeping their distance. But when Snake II introduced himself with a polite bow, the frogs’ eyes widened in terror.

"Ssssso good to meet all of you," Snake II hissed politely, but the frogs took a step back, their bodies trembling.

One of the older frogs, shaking in his boots, nervously approached Kikko. "Uh, L-Lord Kikko, with all due respect... could you, um, maybe keep him... far away from us? Please?"

Kikko blinked and looked at Snake II, who shrugged as if to say, "What did I do?"

"Don't worry!" Kikko said with a reassuring wave. "Snake II is harmless! Well... mostly."

The frogs didn’t look convinced, but they nodded in agreement, hoping to avoid further conversation with the slithery newcomer.

Meanwhile, on the far side of the island, Sallam had arrived to coordinate and inspect the lizard activities. The sun was shining brightly, and as always, Sallam couldn’t resist the urge to stretch out on a warm rock in the sun. He let out a satisfied sigh, basking in the heat, his long lizard tail flicking lazily as his eyes drooped.

Every so often, Sallam would open one eye to check on the lizards under his command, but mostly he enjoyed his time lounging on the sun-kissed rock. “Ahhh… life could be worse,” he thought to himself.

After finishing his business with Snake II, Kikko returned home to his floating palace in the clouds. As he entered, he let out a big, satisfied sigh.

"You know," Kikko said to no one in particular, "this was a nice day for a change. No complaints, no cannonballs, no rainstorms. Just a simple day with my frog villagers… and Snake II." He chuckled softly and leaned back in his chair, feeling for once that things were, perhaps, going smoothly.

The heavenly banquet was in full swing, with the table laden with glowing fruits, sparkling beverages, and dishes like the vibrant rainbow-colored salad, which Kikko eagerly dug into. Snake II, coiled comfortably in his seat, flicked his tongue contentedly, recounting his recent vacation.

"So, Snake II," Kikko said, his mouth half-full of salad, "tell us about the tropics! How was your holiday? Bet it was nice, relaxing in the sun, eh?"

Snake II's eyes gleamed, and he hissed softly. "Oh, yesss. The tropicsss were ssstunning, Kikko. Thossse warm ssandsss, the ssswaying palm treesss..." He sighed, a rare contented expression crossing his face. "Not to mention the mousssses I found on the beach. Perfectly crisp under the sun. Quite a change from our froggy companionsss here."

Sallam perked up, intrigued. "Sunbathing on warm sand? That sounds perfect. Maybe I should head there instead of these islands. I could use a change from my usual rock."

Snake II smirked. "Oh, you’d love it, Sallam. The ssstones are hotter, the daysss longer. You could bask all day long without a care in the world."

Haggis, unimpressed by the vacation talk, sighed. "Yes, yes, very exotic, but some of us have actual responsibilities around here."

Meanwhile, Croco wasn’t particularly interested in the travelogue. He was busy wolfing down a mountain of heavenly marshmallow clouds alongside a roasted pineapple, its golden juices dribbling down his chin. "Tropics sound good, but nothing beats this food up here," he mumbled. "Although I could go for some real prey next time, like—"

Kikko, sensing danger, cut him off. "No villagers for dinner, Croco!"

The crocodile god shrugged, chewing on a charred coconut husk. "Just saying. Tropics sound like a good hunting spot too."

Plunk grumbled as he nibbled on some golden-crusted bread. "Less talk of vacations and more about discipline. These frog angels have no respect. Snake II should've taken them with him for some serious training."

The table filled with laughter, and Kikko raised his glass, still delighted by Snake II’s vacation story. "To sunny beaches and successful days!"

Snake II smiled. "And to keeping the frogsss happy. Or at least, sssafely dissstanced from me."

Kikko stood in the middle of his chamber, beads of sweat dripping down his green skin as he muttered the final incantations of an ancient ritual. Hours had passed, but finally, with a triumphant croak, a small flame flickered to life between his webbed hands. It wasn’t much, but it was his own magic—something he could proudly show to his subjects.

Stepping outside, he found Haggis practicing lightning bolts. Sparks shot from the lizard’s hands, crackling through the air in impressive arcs. Sallam stood nearby, his eyes wide with wonder as Haggis expertly hurled bolt after bolt into the sky, each one brighter and more powerful than the last.

Kikko sighed, his tiny flame dwindling in comparison. "Well... this isn’t going to impress anyone now, is it?" he muttered under his breath. He waved the flame away and turned to leave, feeling somewhat deflated. Maybe he would find better company with Snake II.

He wandered over the cloud bridges until he found Toadrick and Snake II in a secluded clearing, deep in conversation. Just as Kikko approached, he heard the toad croak, “Fireball!” Snake II obediently opened his mouth, and a massive ball of fire erupted forth, illuminating the entire area.

“Excellent work,” Toadrick praised, his wise eyes twinkling. “But remember, Snake II, no casting fireballs near the trees. We don’t need any accidental bonfires.”

Kikko sighed even more, watching in silence, his heart sinking further. A fireball? From Snake II? Of course, Snake II could conjure something so grand while Kikko’s own flame barely sputtered in his hands. He turned around, sighing again.

"Seems I’ll need to study more," Kikko mumbled to himself. "Perhaps those ancient scrolls in my inner sanctum will give me the edge I need..."

With determination in his heart, Kikko resolved to improve his magic. After all, he had to be more than just the clumsy god with a few weak tricks up his sleeve. He would make his followers proud—one day.

Written by: Chris van Zuiden, 2025 (c)