Jimmy the Frog

CHAPTER 1

Radio talkback host James Froggatt ran the 1:00 am to 5:00 am 'Sleepless in Orion Show' transmitted by an obscure radio station in Indiana, well north of Indianapolis. After finishing that shift on this day he understandably yawned his way through the early morning emergency meeting called by station manager Doug Hart. Personnel were asked to take another 20% pay cut, the second in six months.

"If I don't get your cooperation I close the station," Doug warned. "Our investors are very unhappy."

The station's second more popular broadcaster with the public, Wendy Oates, who presented 'Talking Sweetly' weekday afternoons 1:00 pm to 5:00, said she was quitting, and walked out. Doug's shoulders slumped until someone called, "I'll take that girly spot." The shoulders slumped even more when he realized the volunteer was James Froggatt, known since his schooldays as Jimmy the Frog.

Someone called "Let him do it Doug as none of us will. You can run continuous music for the sleepless 1:00 to 5:00 am."

Doug said he accepted the offer and James said he'd snatch some sleep and be in the booth by 12:55. He began broadcasting without being introduced.

"Good afternoon everyone. Your customary host Wendy Oates is no longer on the payroll. Although she's sixty I wonder if her reason for leaving is associated with a pregnancy rumor. I'm James Froggatt, known in Orion as Jimmy the Frog and I'm here to take your calls and to ramble on a bit. First could we have some calls from those of you who regret the passing of Wendy and hate having me on your precious show that I'm renaming 'The Light and Fuzzy Show." The format is changing to racy and irreverent and if you don't like it too bad, but give it a go. Listen to two sessions to give me time to settle in. I reckon I will have grabbed you by the short and curlies by the end of session two."

James looked up to see Doug outside the glass booth slapping his hand against his forehead looking as if his short and curlies had been jerked.

A call from a weeping woman came through. "I am so sad that Wendy has passed on."

"She's just quit and left the studio ma'am."

"That's what I meant."

"Oh, I'm so stupid."

"Yes you are asshole. Get off the air."

James heard a very loud noise from outside and assumed that Doug had fallen on to his sword, er face, unconscious.

"You have indicated you are stupid but I'll give you a chance to prove you are not an asshole."

"Thank you ma'am."

"How can I have my afternoon asleep when smooth-voiced Wendy is not broadcasting?"

"We are about to run some advertisements sir. They will put you to sleep."

Doug burst in during the ad break, his hands working in throttling fashion. "Are you attempting to bring down this station single-handedly?"

"Ease off boss. Give me two sessions. I aim to be the best thing this station has ever had. Within a week you'll be signing the first station wishing to take the feed of my show and by the month's send we will have a regional uptake, with people all over the state listening in."

"Two sessions you say? Okay, and then when you have had that time to bring this station down you cannot expect severance pay."

"Your confidence in me is overwhelming boss."

Almost at the end of the show the call-ins had become far more positive.

"Like you style Jimmy."

"Keep it up Mr Frog. Women like that."

"Perhaps you are not an asshole."

"Does your mother have recipes of interest to us Mr Frog?"

After 5:10 James yawned his way to his favorite bar. The hard-faced bar owner said she would buy him two drinks and her barfly patrons clapped and wished James well.

James asked incredulously, "You guys tuned into WIIK?"

"Yeah," sniffed Margo. "We did it for a laugh and got one when that woman called you an asshole. But when I went to change stations these goons here threatened to rebel. You did great Jimmy."

James (25) lived with his mother Marion and she greeted him with a big hug and said, "Keep your nerve darling; you'll win through. I've written out my recipe for rice pudding and the directions. Tell your caller I inherited that recipe from my mother."

Later that evening Melinda Brooks (now Melinda Hudson) called and invited James out for a drive. "John is playing squash so I thought I should have a bit of exercise as well," said Melinda. James had spent two years trying to seduce her at their first year at college together. She purred, "I'm taking you parking; you are so cool."

James got the tiny tits out and found they were connected to normal size nipples, so was not disappointed. Just as Melinda had pulled out his dick and was sinking on to it, she said, "You are going to make it as a DJ Jimmy, as sure as I know how to suck cock."

Jimmy's eyes rolled so far back into his head ten minutes later he was scared his eyeballs would never re-appear.

"How was that?" Melinda asked with professional aplomb. The sight of her licking cum into her mouth and watching juices drip off her chin was more than Jimmy could endure. He shot another steam across her face and she cooed, "Good boy but keep up hard; there's more to come."

Next afternoon James ignored the station directive to call his show the James Froggatt Show. "Hi everyone. Five of you folk out there had the decency to write telling me my start yesterday was okay but I needed to improve. The writers wished me well and all five said they knew I could do it. Well I just stood, opened letters in my hand, and cried. Yes folk, I blubbered like a kid. I noticed four of those five letters were addressed to Jimmy the Frog. [bleep] Froggatt, welcome everyone to the Jimmy the Frog Show."

"Hi Jimmy, what was the bleep for?"

"I used the F-word."

"Hi Jimmy, love the name of your show. Live up to it won't you or else croak. Heh-heh-heh."

"Listen asshole, I suggested yesterday you read out a recipe from your mom and..."

"Okay bitch, got pencil and paper? It's for 1920s rice pudding and mom says it came from her mother and I would guess from her mother's mother. Ready bitch?"

"Yes Jimmy."

He read out the recipe and directions and said he would read out a recipe from his mother on the first Monday of the month, so no more calls on that theme. "Nobody makes food from recipes these days. Apart from my mom and this bitch, everyone has take-outs or eats at restaurants."

Within five minutes the station's switchboard was overloaded with calls. Doug, red-faced and giving James an obscene gesture with two fingers was at the window screaming.

"No more calls people. My kind-hearted boss is coming close to having a coronary because our advertising people can't telephone out trying to drum up business. So please, no more calls than these ones already in our system until I say so."

"Asshole, I rarely eat at restaurants because most have filthy kitchens and breed cockroaches and take-outs poison the body with the muck they stick into them."

"What's your first name caller?"

"John."

"Well John let me tell you this. My mom orders our takeouts from Emmy's Take-outs on Saxon Street here in Orion. Emmy is a friend of mom's and I went through school with Rona her daughter who now works with Emmy. I'd trust those two with my dick."

James looked out to see two females helping Doug to a chair; one was loosening his tie and the other ran to the water cooler.

"Listen folk," Jimmy said. "You can easily tell whether the food at a restaurant or from a take-out place is good; conduct a study next morning when you are on the john. If you are groaning more than usual, that's a sign. If you are really loose, that's a sign. Don't ask me to interpret those signs for you on public radio. I always return to that restaurant after I crap well next morning. It's a better endorsement than that restaurant running a $10,000 advertising campaign about food control and its cleanliness."

"I love it," thrilled a woman. "Jimmy you are so disgusting but are so deadpan about it. You are invited to check me out in the bathroom any time you wish."

"Sorry darling, my contract with this station prohibits me from making house calls. Continued good luck with your morning bathroom deposits."

"Young man, you are a total disgrace talking to us like this."

"Fine ma'am, switch to a rival station."

"Oh I can't do that. I have to listen for the next occasion when you'll disgust me."

"Right ma'am. You sound elderly. Remember when you shop, extra soft paper for the bathroom."

"Young man, Jimmy the Frog is a ridiculous name."

"Yes ma'am, and what is your first name?"

"Inocencia."

"Ma'am," Jimmy laughed. "You are responsible for giving us the joke of the day. Well done and have a lovely evening. May I point out to new listeners my real name is James Froggatt and in 4th grade a smart-ass kid called Bug-Eyes dubbed me Jimmy the Frog and it's been my nickname ever since. Bug-Eyes happens to be mayor of our town."

By Friday Doug had signed three contracts from other stations wanting to take the Jimmy the Frog Show feed. Rather impressed, Doug told James, "This take-up is good for your ego but I'm telling you it won't last. You'll be history within two weeks, probably rotting in jail for calling prim lady listeners bitches."

"You attend to sharpening your row of pencils Doug and keep me on free rein. Oh, I'll be announcing on Monday ads on my show carry a 400% premium on our ratecard prices for my slot. Please advise the advertising department."

"You are exceeding your authority."

"Doug, listen old chap. I'm working to save your ass and everyone else who works here. Just don't interfere. Understand?"

"Yes James."

Driving home James saw the long line of people waiting outside Emmy's Take-outs and a van driver and assistant hauling in additional supplies. He grinned and later that night after closing Emma called him over for a drink. Emma wanted to give him a handful of money but James said no, money would corrupt his personal broadcasting standards. Emma showed enterprise by asking James to kneel down in front of her and she lifted her skirt and called her daughter. Although they both smelt of garlic and onions, James accepted the invitation and tore into them both. Emma was so grateful saying she was rather short on fucks these days and she repeated being so appreciative for the boost to business they'd received from Jimmy the Frog. She went off to clear away tadpoles.

On Saturday morning James' mom was baking, and sent him to the supermarket for backing powder and brown sugar.

Some crazy woman shouted, "It's Jimmy the Frog." It was one of his mother's friends and he was mobbed – well, nine women pressed in around him seemed a mob to James. They all claimed they enjoyed the show including those who possibly didn't listen to it as they looked vague but then James knew women got that look when shopping, especially elderly women. He asked the women what they liked about the show and they all had different opinions, which is about as reliable as buying professionally conducted research.

After James had been on the afternoon show for a month, it's advertising running three times ahead of revenue for all other shows excluding the 6:00 to 9:00 am show, he was being hailed by station personnel as a hero. Doug was virtually licking James' hand and announced salaries would return to normal. He took James aside and said 92 stations were now taking the feed for the Jimmy the Frog show including fifteen from out of state. He increased James' salary, tripling it. "Our investors, who are my wife's father and two of his pals, are back playing poker with me again and my wife is back to sleeping with me again, wink-wink," he beamed.

Two months went by and Jimmy had the following he'd hoped for. A journalist from a national magazine specializing in TV and Radio station insider news arranged with Doug to interview James.

"God, you're handsome, not one of the usual geeks with glasses and long side-whiskers," she said, signaling her inner turmoil by sweeping a hand over her left breast. Kate's photographer took shots of James during the last hour of his show and while she interviewed James. The photographer returned to New York without her when Kate booked into a hotel and invited James to have dinner with her.

"My girlfriends know me as Asshole Kate, wink-wink," she said, watching James intently while chewing her chocolate desert. One-course James sipped his black coffee.

"You have lovely hair," James said, seizing on the only thing about Kate he could see worth praising.

Very plain Kate was tickled by such praise. "Please stay the night with me and learn why I have earned my nickname." she said.

At the airport next morning they kissed and James patted Kate's butt reverently.

A fortnight later red-faced and panting, Doug held up the feature story on James Froggatt of the 'stupendously new show in regional radio called the 'Jimmy the Frog Show now being fed to 501 radio stations that have cancelled their own slumbering afternoon shows'.

During an ad break Doug came in. "Is this huge for us or is it what?"

James asked with concern, what 501 stations are taking their feed?

"Inflated, we now have 209 stations taking the feed but a bit of exaggeration doesn't hurt and as you know no one checks on such claims."

James didn't know that.

Soon after that he arrived to prepare for the show and Doug cornered him. "How would you like to live in LA?"

"I often dream about buttocks on the sidewalks there."

"Well I can sell your contract to talk radio KLUG for enough cash for me to buy out our investors to achieve my dream of owning my own radio station. KLUG is only a small station in a highly competitive market and needs a power-host like you. You remain in the 1:00 to 5:00 slot and we will take the feed so our listeners won't notice you are no longer broadcasting from here unless there are one of the ones not stupid."

"Sounds okay in principle."

"You don't have principles. Right, we fly there in the morning at their expense, take a look around and after a wet lunch return home, hopefully me with a contract signed in one pocket and a big check in the other."

"Sounds okay. Mom wants me out of the house because too many women are visiting and screaming from my bedroom."

"Well, that's the price of fame and the lure of a froggy stick. You won't experience that in LA because the market is too competitive and everyone there wants to talk and not listen and the women seduce men on drugs or with tats and gold chains around they neck."

Three weeks later, James' tearful mother farewelled him at the airport and he began work in LA next afternoon. No one else was there to say goodbye because at Doug's request no one was to know he was leaving. That of course saved Doug hosting a farewell party.

* * *

"Hello everyone, this is the new guy from the Midwest, James Froggatt whose job it is to help put you into your afternoon nap. This is the Jimmy the Frog Show broadcast by KLUG in LA. KLUG sounds like a brand of beer, doesn't it? Yummy. Thinking yummy I must say my first impressions of LA are ass and tit. They are swinging and poking out everywhere you look, including on horse-faced women with no tit or sculptured ass worth looking at. It must be a culture thing. Wanna talk about it?

"You hick from Hicksville calling our women horse-faced. Go back to Hicksville."

"Aw, come on Charlie. You over state the case. Some horses have pretty faces."

"Jimmy please go back to Orion, Indiana. I'll pay you a thousand bucks to return."

"Hi Jackie, obviously you are in PR on a rival station. I bet you have a fat ass."

"Jimmy our talk hosts are civilized people. Could you listen and take a page out of their books?"

"Thank you Claudette but I fail to see why I should follow the pack. Those jerks probably can't read so it's no use talking about books."

James looked up to see the station executives looking through the glass at him gravely.

"Hold calls for ten minutes folk. I'm calling in someone working in our station to come in and talk to me. Babe – yes you in the white suit."

The executives outside listening to the broadcast looked at their PR manager and she was told to heed the call.

"Everyone, here we have a hot woman I'll talk to, and by hot I mean sexy. Put that headset on darling, sit and relax and answer the question. What's your name honey?"

"F-Faye W-Wilson."

"Nervous are we darling? I thought wenches in PR were hotshots that operated as communication specialists?"

"This is unscheduled."

"All the better darling. So here we have Faye Wilson, head of PR on KLUG. I can tell you, I wouldn't mind a few KLUGS of Faye. Faye so you have nice boobs?"

"That's judgmental, not something I can competently answer."

"Well take your jacket and shirt off Faye and allow me to be the judge."

"You can't mean that; this is so embarrassing."

"Radio is TV without pictures sweetheart. None of our listeners – that is if we have any – will see you. I'll pant in various intensities so they can judge what they are missing."

"Faye, lock the door. Here comes the station manager fuming. God, her moustache is better than most men's lip fungus."

"Thank you Faye. Good soundproofing here – look at the bitch screaming but we can't hear her."

"Oh god, what have I done?"

"Delivering the performance of your life I shouldn't wonder Faye."

At that stage people around LA and beyond were calling friends to tune into KLUG.

Faye, now gathered, said, "I cannot believe you are for real."

"As real as a yokel from Orion Indiana can get Faye. Feel this to find that I'm very real. You smut lovers out there, no it wasn't that; I was pointing at Faye to feel my heart."

"Oh god."

"Good girl Faye. It's a very smart jacket with gold buttons. Female admiral of the fleet wouldn't look better than Faye does now. Okay there goes the jacket, placed tidily on the back of her chair and off comes the shirt. Her fingers are shaking. Oh god, why were you hiding those for Faye? A cast should be made of them for Los Angeles Museum if indeed culture has reached this Flip Flop city yet. The bra is just managing to do the job and is thin material in multi colors of red, green and orange. Tell me Faye, why don't you show tit, as did some many of LA women I saw walking the streets of Flip Flop City last night? I know half of them were retired hookers because what else is there for women to do here? The thousands of hookers and the other half who might not be hookers were all showing tit."

"Mr Froggatt, please don't speak so unkindly about our beautiful city that I love so much and as for tit, boob is better and breast is the word you should be using."

"Fine I hear you. Waggle them at me Faye. Agh, agh, agh. Oh FAYE!"

James looked out and could see vice-president Andrew Lucas he'd met three weeks ago was holding back the station manager who was practically foaming at the month. The VP's phone went. He spoke, looked at James and ended the call. The VP spoke to the station manager and they both gave James the thumbs up.

The ad run had finished and Faye was sitting back in her seat, pouting, with her shirt back on.

"Okay, you guys out there are listening to Jimmy the Frog. Faye darling, drop your skirt for me please. I promise I won't have a heart attack. I just want to see if you have a butt worth waggling along whatever you call your main street. Being snobby Flip Flop city it's bound to be called something boulevard."

"I'll drop my skirt if you promise to call our dear city Los Angeles or even LA."

"Yeah, yeah. Set me panting darling."

"Ohmigod. Arf, arf, arf. Oh FAYE! Waggle those hips as you turn around darling. Oh [bleep]. Voff, voff, yoff."

Faye was now excited and was keen to spoof. Sitting back in her chair she said, "Are you okay Mr Froggatt? Here, let me help you up off the floor. Oh dear, I grabbed your zip instead of your belt. It was a genuine mistake. OH MR FROGGATT!"