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     Olaf sprang to his feet shedding himself of the annoying little tadpole. Nevertheless, he continued to squirm and squeal to such a degree that the buzzard scooped him up, and dangled him in front of his beak. “Would you like to join mummy, you little 'turd'pole?”
    “BUZ!—You stop that RIGHT NOW!” Valentina had also been following the vulture's escapades with great interest. While Tad bewailed the loss of his mother, the brazen pixie marched right up to Olaf and poked him in the gut. “All right, buster—cough her up! I know you can do it. I've seen buzzards like you spit out their meals in order to lighten the load and take off in a hurry … so belly up and—Heave!
     Olaf' chest was pounding. Beating heart, or hopping frog, he couldn't tell … “Fahh!” Was all he could think to say before he retched.
     Momma frog gushed out, and once reunited with her little pollywog, immediately began jumping and jiggling around in gooey hugs, both with more bounce in their step than ever.  
     Olaf was suddenly overcome by something he had never experienced before. All the frustration and anger gave way to … “SHAME on you, Buz!” Val scolded, casting dagger eyes, and shaking her finger like a flail.
     No adversary he had been throttled by today inflicted such hurt. His wounded pride tore open, and the tears gushed out. Olaf's twiggy limbs wobbled and rattled until he collapsed into the girl's arms sobbing uncontrollably. Soon his feathers were once again, soggy and matted.
     Val was totally thrown for a loop. Not sure what to do with the big lumox gushing in her embrace … she was just about ready to feel sorry for him, when he began to wail and moan about his inadequacies. 
     "… It's not easy living here among all these wretched castoffs … This whole morass is riddled with unsavory buggers and boogies … It's nothing but a dumping ground for misfits—like me! And I'm the most unsavory and most misfit of all ...” Olaf really came unglued now, as he cut into himself.