31. S2: Director of the Arts,Sasha Waybright

CELEBRATION! RAGNAR THE WRETCHED NOW RAGNAR THE BURIED!

The terrifying Ragnar the Wretched, bandit king of the Badlands, has finally been slain in battle. After countless skirmishes in the northern borders of the Hanzaki Forest, the despot was overthrown due to the strategic military operations by Newtopia's elites. Led by then-Lieutenant Yunan, Ragnar was killed within his iron fortress through a night-time ambush after depleting his resources and tiring his army via numerous attempted raids. According to reports, Yunan and a team of 10 highly-trained newts circumvented the fortifications via catapult drops – launching themselves over the walls by using catapults – and dealt crippling blows in their defence. Yunan would then engage Ragnar within his own bedroom and decapitate him with a single blow.

Due to her accomplishments, Lieutenant Yunan would be granted a promotion to General, making her the youngest newt to achieve that rank in Newtopian military history. King Andrias Leviathan himself personally awarded her that title, leaving her to replace the recently-retired former General Dayang. Previously, Yunan has also received recognition due to her contributions during the Sand Wars years prior, which disrupted major trading routes between the cities of Newtopia, Boruto and the Frog Valley province.

Currently, Lieutenant Yunan – or more accurately, future General Yunan – is recovering from her wounds after the great battle. Let us pray for a speedy recovery for the hero of the Badlands.

— Excerpt from the magazine "Oh My Newts: Massinot Special", page 10. The next issue included an apology due to the misnaming of the ancient city Naruto into "Boruto" which, according to the local populace, is an insult meaning "second-worst". This is apparently worse than the actual "first-worst".

Dehydration – one of the worst ways to die.

Let me explain; do you know how long it takes for the average adult to perish from dehydration? The value tended to vary depending on which source you looked up but for the general rule of thumb, the average adult would die from dehydration in just 3 days.

Three. One, two, three.

Uno, dos, tres.

Einz, Zwei, Drei.

That's a very short period of time. Now, if you took a lot of necessary measures, you'd be able to survive far longer under extreme conditions in which dehydration seemed most likely to occur. Take, for example, a desert. Deserts are hot, and dry, and had a severe lack of water sources. But if you packed enough and wore the right clothes, the desert wouldn't be so bad.

The thing was, not everywhere in the desert was the same. Deserts are vast stretches of land, so there are a lot of different weather conditions all over. Some areas harboured an abundance of life, while others were just dead zones. Thankfully, the locals of this particular one named it appropriately, probably due to their unique naming sense.

Sitting on the passenger seat, Sasha flapped a makeshift leaf fan in her hand, blowing air into her face. It was supposed to be an attempt at cooling herself but even the blown air was dry and harsh. The effect she desired was minor. "Sheesh, this place is drier than Marcy's conversational skills..."

Hop Pop, who sat nearby, wearing a cowboy hat and holding the leash of his beloved snail Bessie, nodded. "Well, it is the Dry Swamp. The names don't lie!" He said as the matter of fact. "This place here is home to all sorts of dangers! I'm talking giant frog-eating sandworms. Bandits. Vagabonds. You'd know it if you'd ever read the classic play, 'Fear the Dry Swamp'."

"Please don't do what you're about to do."

"Hark! For I am homeless. I am friendless. I am… the Dry Swamp." He acted, much to Sasha's vexation. "You know, I was this close to getting the lead part once."

Sasha groaned. "We know; you tell that story all the time!"

"Before I was a farm frog, your Hoppy Pop had dreams. Big ones!" The old frog huffed. He then shrugged, as if the thought didn't bother him. "Next life, I suppose."

It's sometimes easy to forget that one of Hop Pop's prospects in life was becoming an actor. He was such a natural at farming and was quite content with his choice of living. He never once complained about being a farmer. Maybe it was just his Plantar blood calling him back to the residence after leaving for so long. He did, at one point, attended art school.

Not allowing himself to dwell on the what-ifs, Hop Pop focused on the road ahead. If there was one, that was. Due to the extreme heat and dryness, the Dry Swamp didn't have a proper road network, so navigating through this section of the desert can be quite arduous. This was because most people would simply avoid the Dry Swamp altogether, going the long way around. Hop Pop, though, was an experienced frog and had travelled through here once before.

If he's done it before, why not do it again?

Just then, while the journey was calm and the winds were somewhat soothing, a rumble of the earth shuddered and followed them close behind, hidden beneath the sands.

"It's official; this is the worst place ever." Sasha complained, the heat starting to get to her. She turned around and peered into the fwagon's upper hatch. Inside, Sprig and Polly sat comfortably away from the heat and sun, drinking from their respective canteens and/or gourds. "Yo, Sprig. Hand me a bottle."

Abiding her request, Sprig briefly paused his drinking session and grabbed a bottle of cool and refreshing spring water. The fwagon was designed for long travels and the Plantars were specially prepared for it as well. Thus, they had stored quite a bit of water from the valley, enough to at least get them halfway through their journey.

"Here you go." Sprig said, hopping up to Sasha's level. The teenager snatched the bottle from his loose hand, letting him float down back to continue finishing his drink.

Greedily, Sasha took a swig from the bottle and doused the rest all over herself, cooling herself considerably. Sasha sighed, finally somewhat comfortable. "Ahh~ That's better…"

Hop Pop glanced at the girl. Despite previous experiences, she somehow ended up suffering the most in this ordeal. The last time they went to a desert-like area, Sasha was the one that handled the heat better than the rest of the Plantars. But here? She was utterly miserable. To be fair, the Plantars had time to prepare for such a climate this time. There was a special type of lotion designed specifically for it, allowing the frogs to maintain their moisture and stay cool.

A shame that lotion wasn't designed for humans like Sasha. Hop Pop never realised it earlier but apparently, humans just had different skin. All it did was stick on her like goop which grossed her out.

"You could wear my hat if you want." Hop Pop offered, the gentleman that he was.

Sasha waved it away, panting like a dog. "It's fine, Hop Pop... You probably need it more than I do..."

"I seriously doubt it."

While they conversed among themselves, the rumbling in the ground continued tailing them. It hasn't done a move yet, simply stalking from beneath the earth where it was hidden. But after about half an hour, it decided it was time to strike.

"Say, Hop Pop? When's the next town?"

"Oh, not too far. It'll probably take us a few hours."

"That's pretty far, du—"

BOOOSH!

Without even a warning, the rumble burst out, revealing its full form. The sand whimpered in its presence, its length easily towering over the fwagon like a monolith. Hop Pop and Sasha quickly turned around and to their abject terror, what they found was a giant green-toned worm with sets of razor-sharp teeth.

Although it had no eyes, there was one thing for sure that they all could agree with; it looked hungry.

KKREEEHH!

"SANDWORM!" Hop Pop yelled. Immediately, he whipped the leash on Bessie, notifying the snail of the threat looming behind them. Bessie got the signal and powered by the ancient energies of fight-or-flight, she quickly booked it, doubling her snail's pace.

Next to the driver, Sasha screamed. "I HATE HOW EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD TRIES TO KILL US!"

Driving across the desert at full speed, the Plantars were put in a pickle. The fwagon hopped over and around the sand dunes, its wheels creaking under the pressure. Yet, right behind them, the sandworm chased with vigour, swimming through the sand as if it was water. This was the sandworm's territory and it knew its backyard more than anyone.

Inside the fwagon, Sprig and Polly were suddenly thrown around, bumping into walls, cabinets and beds. "W-w-what's going on?!" Polly shrieked, bouncing out of control.

While the predator chased its prey, a new figure flew in, having noticed the commotion from afar. The mysterious patron followed them from above on a rideable beetle, its thin wings buzzing rapidly, unbeknownst to either involved party. For as much as an excellent driver Hop Pop was, he would never be able to outrun the sandworm, the figure quickly deduced. There was no other option. The family of 4 was toast unless someone got involved.

And someone did.

Leaning forward, the flyer swooped down towards the driver, gliding as close to him as possible. Hop Pop, too focused on escaping with their lives, barely noticed the new person appearing beside him. "Hey, you!" The flyer called, scaring the old frog somewhat. "Head towards that dune! We've got a caravan on the other side and this thing's spooked by numbers!"

"W-what?" Hop Pop stuttered. He didn't quite what the flyer said and she left just as quickly as she appeared. Nonetheless, in an act of desperation, he followed the brown beetle as it flew over a sand dune with its pilot, disappearing from sight.

…

…

FWOOSH!

Mere moments later, a caravan from the same dune appeared, leaping over the hill of sand in a trail of dust. Led by a large dung beetle, the group of carriages circled Hop Pop's fwagon, surrounding him on all sides in an erratic move.

Sensing heavy vibrations in front of it, the sandworm stopped. It was threatened. Just like the masked person said, it was intimidated by numbers and being blind, it could not tell that it was larger than the caravan and fwagon combined. From the vibrations in the earth, its basic instincts yelled it was a large group and was far too much of a risk.

Spooked by the sudden turn of events, the sandworm fled, digging through the ground and leaving nothing but a deep hole behind. They were safe, for now.

With the danger no longer present, the caravan slowed down, leaving its circle of protection. Sasha, who had been gripping her seat this entire time, celebrated. "WE'RE ALIVE! YEE-HAY!" She cheered in an unusual vernacular. It was something she adopted from the previous town they visited.

Hop Pop gave a sigh of relief, thankful that they were able to escape the worst outcome. He would've cheered along but just as the chaos died down, the mysterious flyer finally landed and quickly, he went to show his gratitude. "Hey, thanks for your help out there!"

"Don't mention it." The flyer said, her smile hidden under her cloth mask. "You know, you folks really shouldn't be out here on your own. Haven't you ever read 'Fear the Dry Swamp'?" She inquired.

Hop Pop gasped. "You know that play?"

The flyer laughed. "Know it? Ha! I directed it!"

With dramatic flair, she took off her hood and mask, revealing her appearance in all its glory. A woman in her 30s to 40s, she was a tad taller than Hop Pop with a pair of round glasses covering her eyes completely and an orange scarf around her collar. She also wore a beret, yet the most interesting part of her appearance, however, would be her pants which were slightly baggy in the middle but a perfect fit at her waist and shins, paired with tall black heeled boots. "Renee Frodgers is the name and managing this acting troupe is my game!"

Hop Pop gasped – the second time today. "An acting troupe? Here?"

Indeed, it was an odd place for an acting troupe to be at. "What a coincidence, huh, Hop Pop?" Sasha nudged, though ignored.

Renee Frodgers walked up to the old frog, her voice dripping with charisma. "Say, why don't you folks join our caravan? We could use extra stagehands and you know what they say: 'Safety in numbers!'."

Hop Pop – let's say it together – gasped. Again! Now, although he knew that by accepting the offer, he was only temporarily working with them – probably unpaid too – but he didn't care. He thought that he would never be able to live his dream of being a real actor. Yet, lo and behold! An opportunity literally snuck up on him and this was his one big break.

Without even so much as consulting the rest of the family, he instantly jumped in for the offer. "WE'RE IN!"

Sasha raised a brow. "We are?"

Sprig and Polly finally climbed out of the fwagon, dizzy but otherwise uninjured. "W-w-where are we?"

Sprig never got the answer.

You know, most people underestimate the amount of work put into making a 2-hour movie. Usually, people just remembered the actors but in reality, they only do 10% of all the work. The other 90% was done by backstage workers, most if none at all would ever be seen by the audience.

There were scriptwriters who wrote the script, set builders who build the set, costume designers who designed the costume, – you can tell that most of these have names that describe the job – makeup artists who apply makeup, lawyers for legal reasons and the one unpaid overworked intern. Through hard work and jolly cooperation, you got yourself a play ready for theatrical release.

Sasha, being part of the school's drama club, was familiar with stage plays. Not only did she act in a lot of them but she also did some directing work and even did a bunch of other odd jobs in the background. Anne also had experience in plays but due to certain tooth-related events in her childhood, she usually avoided participation unless goaded by Sasha. Marcy was invited because it felt weird leaving her out; she had, like, zero interest in plays otherwise.

Opening the caravan door with enthusiasm, the director and manager of the acting troupe led the Plantar family in and proudly declared. "Welcome to our humble operation!"

It was like stepping into another world.

Inside the caravan, every member of the troupe was working diligently, sparring no time to greet themselves in an already busy schedule. Hop Pop gasped and was awed at the sight, his eyes literally filling with tears of joy by the second. It was like watching a baby as it observed its surroundings, so pure and so wide-eyed.

How long has it been since he last took step behind the curtains? How long was it since he entered this world of wonder?

As they continued further in, a young frog – around Sprig's age – stood in their path. He wore a dark blue cloak that covered his entire body and despite his age, he had a full bed of thick grey hair, a beret sitting on top. The group stopped as they approached and their guide snapped her fingers. "Hey, Francis! Show these youngsters to the kids' wagon."

The boy Francis turned around to face them and gracefully bowed. "As you wish, madam. I am Francois, heir to House D'arncool."

"He's method." Renee explained.

Sprig and Polly blinked. Before they could ask what that meant, Sasha leaned over to them. "It's another word for 'pretentious'."

"Oh, okay." "Yeah, that clears it up."

Hop Pop frowned. "No, it doesn't! It means he embodies a character on and off set!"

Renee was impressed. "Ha! You're sharp, H.P! You definitely know your stuff." She complimented. "Care to join me in my trailer? I'd love to pitch you our little production here."

The old frog gasped. He's doing that a lot recently. "WOULD I?!"

He would. With much haste, the eccentric director and washed-up actor left the scene, heading for the former's personal trailer. After all, it was unwise to go around discussing upcoming works of art in such a busy area. Better to do it at an office where all the material was held. Left behind from their departure were the 4 kids, their destination elsewhere.

Francis, or Francois if you wanted to be obnoxious, flipped his cloak dramatically. "You three are free to join me if you wish. Ha-ha!" He fake-laughed, hopping off to the kids' wagon in the girliest way imaginable. Fitting for an actor, to be honest. Yet, Sprig and Polly were left in awe.

"Wow… Isn't that guy just the coolest?!" Sprig exclaimed cheerily.

Polly nodded in agreement. "Yeah! He's, like, the coolest kid ever! No contest! Literally no one!"

"I don't know... I think I'm pretty cool." Sasha claimed confidently. A horrible choice, really.

Sprig shook his head. "Nah, he's definitely cooler. He's like the definition of cool." He bluntly replied.

"Totally! As for you, you're more…" Polly paused, thinking of the best description she could use. "… lukewarm."

CRACK!

Oops, there went Sasha's pride.

Lukewarm? Out of all the terms she could've used, she chose 'lukewarm'? "W-w-what?! Lukewarm?!"

"Yeah! Like, no offence but you're pretty mellow once we got to know you. Like water at room temperature." Sprig said using big boy words.

Sasha, so highly offended, frowned and crossed her arms aggressively. "You know what? I'm gonna go with Hop Pop! Apparently, I'm too 'lukewarm' for you two!" She huffed, her face red from either embarrassment or anger.

Sprig, oh lovable Sprig, was completely oblivious to this. He gave a thumbs up and smiled. "Oh, okay! We'll see you later then. See ya!"

Polly hopped onto his shoulder and turning around, the two siblings left for the kids' wagon. Sasha, who was a kid and had nothing else to do, had no other choice but to live up to her words and listen to a bunch of old people talk about boring nonsense.

Though, that wasn't the worst part. As the kids walked away, Sasha shoved her hands in her pockets, her back hunched down slightly in an insecure manner. She grumbled and griped, watching the door until Sprig and Polly both finally disappeared from view. Now alone, she kicked a loose nail, the iron bouncing off the wooden floorboards.

"I'm cool…" She muttered, attempting to salvage what was left of her pride.

Minutes later, at the director's personal trailer, Renee had just finished telling Hop Pop her plans for the next production. It was a classic play known as 'Fear the Dry Swamp' which was, appropriately, based on the Dry Swamp. Most plays tend to do pre-existing stories and old classics, and for a good reason too. Audiences were more familiar with them, meaning it'd rack up more viewers. And with more viewers, you'd get to sell more tickets and get more tips. Running a stage play wasn't cheap.

"And that's pretty much the gist of it." Renee said. On cue, Sasha walked in, the door creaking open and then closed behind her. "Oh, hello, weird-looking girl. Welcome to the director's caravan. This is where all the planning happens."

Sasha looked around for there was much to see. At the wall on her left, several floating shelves were nailed, all with trophies, awards and books placed on top. At the far end, Renee sat behind a large wooden office desk with a small light, her beret hanging on the chair. Behind her, just above the window, a banner saying 'THEATER IS TRUTH' was displayed, along with an old photo of her above it, back when she was just a beginner director.

For a normal trailer, there seemed to be a lot of space. Renee even somehow fit in a long green sofa.

"Huh, this place is bigger inside than out." Sasha noted.

"I get that a lot." She remarked. "Anyway, you missed the pitch session. I was telling H.P. of our latest production."

"And it was GREAT!" Hop Pop exclaimed excitably.

"Ha! He's got a way with words!" Renee said with a laugh, only to quickly turn glum. "It's a shame we can't continue. See, we're in the middle of casting our lead but none of the candidates is popping, you know?"

"Well, what are you looking for?"

"Older gent. Rough around the edges but still has a good heart. Someone like you, actually." She described. "Too bad you're not an actor."

Was this… Were the frog gods watching them? Had they listened to their prayers or more precisely, to his?

Slowly but plainly, Hop Pop smiled. Sasha, who quickly what was happening, stared at him with begging eyes. She shook her head warily, mouthing the words 'Don't do it' the entire time. In contrast, Hop Pop nodded just as subtle, mouthing his own response with 'I'm doing it'.

Before Sasha could stop him, Hop Pop shouted. "Actually, I am an actor!"

Renee blinked. He was? What were the odds of meeting another actor in such a circumstance? "That so? Which stages you've worked on?"

"Too many to count! But I've been meaning on trying out a lead role."

"That so? Well, show me your moves." She requested, leaning back comfortably.

This was it! This was his chance! There's no way he was going to miss such an opportunity. Even if it's just one day, it would all be worth it. Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, he began reciting the script. "Hark! For I am homeless. I am friendless. I am—"

"Right, right, stop!" Renee demanded. She had seen enough. A good director never takes too long to gauge a performer's skill level. "You're not bad. Definitely got a few solid hits here and there, but you just aren't knocking me out. Know what I mean?"

Hop Pop blinked. "No."

"You're not right for the part."

"Oh…"

In one fell swoop, Hop Pop deflated. Just mere moments earlier, he had sat with his back straight and his chest puffed proudly. He was so absolutely convinced that he'd get the role. Yet, all it took were 6 words and in an instant, his strength, his spirit, all gone from these old bones. Hop Pop deflated so much, he looked as if he was going to drip off of the chair like melted ice cream.

Not that it bothered Renee at all. "Super! Guess we're all done here then." She said, clasping her hands together.

…

…

No one in the room moved and after a second or two of awkward silence, the frog director coughed. "That was your cue to leave."

…

…

H-he's still sulking…

Neither Sprig nor Polly had any actual experience in the realm of acting. They've seen many plays from travelling troupes and annual events but never once were they a part of one. However, they did have the next best thing – Hop Pop. Since Hop Pop was a former actor, he had drilled the feeling of being part of a play into the siblings from a young age. It was one of his many passions and Hop Pop always looked so enthusiastic whenever he talked about his time in art school.

Today, Sprig and Polly finally understood why.

The travelling acting troupe had many wagons, each with its own unique purpose. There were the executive wagons for big-shot members of the group, the prop and costume wagons where they kept all their colourful outfits and fake swords, the stage wagon which was literally just the stage itself, the supply and sleeping wagons that handled all necessities and finally, the acting wagons for actors to practice their arts. Due to the different roles based on age, acting wagons were divided into two: the children's wagon and the adults' wagon. They were at the former.

"Welcome, monsieur et madame, to the Children's Wagon." Francis announced, flipping his cloak majestically.

Inside the children's wagon, the duo gawked in awe. There were costumes, props, tools and instruments of all kinds – all kid-sized, perfect for aspiring actors. However, what amazed them the most were the other actors and their cliques. There were the squires, the choir boys, the tiny fairies, the evil servants, and so much more.

"Wow! So cool! Look at all of these crazy outfits and props!" Sprig exclaimed, examining everything around him.

Next to him, Polly hopped on by, though with a new accessory. "I've got an eyepatch!"

"Hey, has anyone seen my eyepatch?"

Francis rolled his eyes, waving his hand around by the wrist. "Yes, yes, it is quite magnifique." He said nonchalantly. "Here, we practise in the art of acting, perfecting our craft until its sheer excellence blinds the audience!"

Sprig felt the tingling desire within him. "Neat! I wanna be one."

Francis blinked. "One what?"

"All this acting stuff."

Francis stared at Sprig, waiting for him to declare it was all a joke. It was not.

He sighed. "Monsieur, eh…"

"Sprig."

"Sprig, acting is not child's play. It is a talent only very few possess and a talent that must be cultivated in order to achieve new heights."

"I've got talent! I can play the fiddle and shoot a bubgrub right between its eyes from a yard away!"

Francis huffed, flipping his cloak offendedly. "Pah! Do you take us for simple performers? Entertainers?! Non!" From nearby, he grabbed a skull – it was fake – and postured it above his head with one foot above a rock – also fake. "We are not here to dazzle others with costumes and acrobatics. We make the people feel emotion."

The tingling sensation continued. It demanded satisfaction. "I can do that too! Like, uh…"

Sprig looked around, searching for any loose piece of clothing or accessory. He grabbed whatever was nearby – a wooden toy sword and a feathery hat – and began stabbing the air. "I'm Sprueeg Plantoir. Your… nemesis! En garde!"

Francis was unamused. He slapped the sword away, much to the boy's shock. "I don't believe you! All I feel from you is shame."

Adding insult to injury, he then turned around and flipped his cloak once more, this time hitting Sprig in the face. The pain did not come from the cloak but from the rejection. Dejectedly, Sprig walked away with a sigh, the tingle of his snuffed by peer pressure.

"C'mon, Polly. Let's get outta here." Sprig called with a saddened tone. However, that feeling was quickly replaced by surprise as his sister appeared, now wearing a full costume.

"Polly? Who's Polly, governor? I'm Lydia Davenport, the black widow." Lydia said, fully engrossed in the role.

Smiling, Francis bowed respectfully. "Lydia! A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Such fine… character."

The two shared a stilted and obnoxious laugh before hopping off, leaving Sprig on his lonesome. It has been a while since he was rejected by a group of similarly aged kids. It kind of reminded him of Wartwood but not in a good way.

Sprig frowned and stomped away. "I'm gonna get in with this group if it's the last thing I do." He said to himself, though not being literal.

Hopefully.

Returning to the director's personal wagon, literally nothing has changed within the past 5 minutes. Hop Pop was still sulking on the chair due to unfulfilled ambitions, Renee Frodgers was still waiting for him to leave and Sasha was just standing at the back awkwardly.

Renee sighed. "Okay, Hopadiah, this is starting to get a little sad."

"Yeah, dude, it's just the main role of some play. It's not that big of a deal." Sasha said, trying to downplay the issue.

Hop Pop gasped, as if he had heard some kind of blasphemy. "Not a big deal?! Do you have any idea how it feels like to never have a chance to achieve your dreams? To always be remembered as some farmer?"

"... Dude, you love being a farmer."

"It was an occupation I grew up in! Of course I love it! But if I had a chance, even once in this lifetime, to be a real actor on a real stage, then you know darn well I would've accepted it without hesitation!"

One might argue that he could participate in some random plays in Wartwood during special events but that's not the kind of stage he meant. One-off shows weren't good enough. He wanted to experience the life of a true actor, taking part in acts lasting hours, retelling great tales of win and woe; not some cheap government-funded holiday entertainment where quality and authenticity didn't matter.

Not that Sasha would understand. Despite taking part in so many plays herself, it was never that serious of a venture for her.

Sasha pinched the bridge of her nose, mildly annoyed. "Look, I get it. You want to be famous and wear silly costumes but really, it's not that exciting. I've played a few roles myself back when I was in the drama club and it's mostly just following the script."

Renee's eyes perked up. "Oh, an actor yourself?"

"Actor, director, costume designer, the works." Sasha listed out. "Did a play on Peter Pan a year back. The crowd loved it."

"Peter Pan? Never heard of it, kid."

Oh, that's right; Amphibia doesn't have Peter Pan! Now that she thought about it, this place wouldn't have any of the classics that were ingrained in modern stories. She read a few tales during her stay and although predictable, they were all completely different from the stories she was used to.

This meant her knowledge of American classics was a treasure trove. Quickly taking advantage of it, Sasha began telling Renee the basic plotline of Peter Pan, from start to finish. "Well, you see, it all started with this little boy who was kinda a jerk..."

Despite it being just the basics, Sasha tried her best to fully immerse the director into the tale. It had pirates, fairies and lost boys! It took a while but it was worth it in the end. From the looks of it, she got Renee Frodgers's, the famous theatre director's, attention.

"Holy cannoli, that's some good storytelling right there! It's got action, drama and even a tinge of romance." Renee praised, which felt weird because it wasn't even Sasha's original work. "Say, you think you can write up a script for the whole shebang? I'll give you credit, of course."

Sasha hissed under her breath. "I dunno... Seems like a lot of work..."

"I'll give you a share of the profits. You'll be swimming in snails in no time! Pretty cool, eh?"

Sasha heard that. It was the last part but she heard that. With a trademark Sasha smile and glimmering stars for eyes, she and Renee shook hands.

"You've got yourself a deal." She replied. Unbeknownst to her, this agreement would change history as we know it. Not by much but you know, it's still history.

Sasha was a fast writer. That may come as a surprise but she was an average B student and the thing about grades was that if you take your education seriously, you're an A student. If you don't or was just dumb, you're a C student. If you're a B student, that meant you're good at copying other people's work.

For Sasha, the person she copied the most from was Marcy. That girl was a certified genius in all things, books and nerd facts. Sometimes, teachers don't even give her homework because they knew she'd ace it anyway. So Sasha could always rely on her for notes and finished math problems.

However, she couldn't always copy from Marcy. It'd be too noticeable. So she copied from others and they weren't as much of a genius as she was. There were even times she was forced to actually do the work herself. Brrrr, those were dark days, far too frequent for her liking.

But when you're always plagiarizing stuff, you tend to get really good at it. Strong memorisation, quick and clean handwriting, efficient workload management, that sort of stuff. And she did learn a few things from it as well, which was why her grades were actually decent.

In an effort to avoid doing schoolwork, she ended up... doing schoolwork.

Wait, that didn't sound right.

With her established skills, Sasha put herself to work and began writing the script of 'Peter Pan' from memory. She did that play only once – the drama club tend to do different projects every year – but she played the villain so she was a big part of it. Additionally, she took a few creative liberties with the story. You know, just to make it a Sasha-Is-Always-Right Foundation original.

A few hours later, she was finished and shared the work with Renee. She seemed to like it, giving her some positive feedback. She liked it so much that it gave the director a brilliant idea. And after discussing it with Sasha, she seemed to be a fan of it too. Though, only after Renee said how 'cool' it'd be.

While everyone was working on their part outside, Renee whistled loudly with her two fingers, getting their attention. Everyone turned and looked at their boss, wondering what's all the ruckus about. Once settled, she clapped once. "Troupe, we've got a slight change of plans. We're not going to be doing 'The Beheading of Marie Antoinewt' for our next production."

"Sacre-bleu!" Francois, though now just Francis, screamed.

"Instead, I've got myself a co-director Sasha—"

Standing beside her, Sasha waved. "Sup."

"—and she got us a brand-spanking new and original production titled 'Peter Anne'. It's going to be the next big hit, I'm telling ya!" Renee said, brimming with confidence. "Sasha here's gonna direct the play, so let's give her a warm welcome and make it our biggest show yet!"

As expected, there were a few mumbles of scepticism from the crowd but if Renee said this new script was the next big hit, then who were they to judge?

Just as she was distributing copies of the script to everyone, Sprig and Polly ran towards her with glee. "Sasha, Sasha! I can't believe you're the new director!"

Lydia nodded. "Ay, what a role you've got there, m'lady!"

Sasha blinked and stared at the bouncing baby ball of the Caribbean. "What the heck is going on with you?" She asked, only to shake her head. "You know what, that doesn't matter. And yeah, I'm great, I know. One could even say I'm cool. Eh? Eh?"

She nudged Sprig by the shoulder on that last part, just to be clear, as well as raising and lowering her eyebrows in a knowing expression. Unfortunately, this was Sprig so the response was obvious. "Not sure what you mean by that." He said, much to her disappointment. "But this is perfect! Now that you're the director, that means you get to pick the actors. So…"

He began nudging her back, using the exact same technique she did prior. Thankfully, she was not Sprig so the message got delivered clearly.

"Can I get a role?" Sprig asked with hopeful eyes.

"You haven't even read the script yet. Also, sorry dude but no. Ms Renee's already picked out the actors. And since we're only temporary caravan-mates, we don't get roles."

Sprig gasped. "But Sasha… I gotta get a role! It's the only way I can get into the group."

"What, the group of drama nerds?" She said dismissively. "Pffft, you don't need to join their group. I mean, why would you? You got me."

"But they're cool, Sasha! Cool!"

"So what? I'm cool." Sasha replied, trying her best not to sound offended. "I mean, I'm the director! I wrote the whole dang script! I'm technically the coolest person here!"

"Sorry, love, but everyone in port knows that writing isn't cool. If you want to be cool, you got to act the part, governor!" Lydia explained.

Sasha frowned. She put so much effort into all of this and for what? Just so she could still be seen as not cool? Well, she won't stand for it! Lydia had a point there. Sasha, as the director, was technically a governor. Governors are cool. If Lydia here saw her as the governor, then why shouldn't she act as one?

"You know what? Weird pirate Polly is right! I'm the governor and a cool governor abuses their power!" Sasha said excitedly. She was feeling so pumped about delving a bit too deep into the dark side of politics, that her eyes began glowing pink. "Sprig, I'll get you a role!"

Sprig cheered. "Hooray for nepotism!"

"But don't expect anything good!" Sasha added, though Sprig had run off by then. She ignored that and turned to the rest of the acting troupe, all invested in the new production. "Alright, everybody! Get used to your lines! We're starting practice in an hour!"

Two days.

That's how long they had to be ready until they reach the next town and set up the play. Now, if you were to ask any actor, learning and practising their roles in a mere two days was ridiculous. Realistically, it would take weeks for a production to be completely ready. Two days? Preposterous!

However, in something one could attribute as nothing short of miraculous, everything – literally everything – was going smoothly. As the director, Sasha made sure everything was going according to plans. Progress was steadily being made at incredible speeds with the lines and dramatic flair being so easily mastered, and the props and costumes being made perfectly to her specifications.

It was as if she was feeding them her exact thoughts and feelings, making them perform exactly the way she intended. That might explain the sudden case of pink eyes everyone seemed to have. The sole exception, however, was Sprig who, despite the power of unfair relationships, couldn't really get that far.

Sprig, who was dressed up as a tree, grumbled. "This is not cool..."

Contrary to what Sprig thought, this was kindness. He would've definitely burned the stage down if he was given an active role. At least Lydia was having fun being a pirate intern.

Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Hop Pop sighed. There went his dream, playing right in front of him. He didn't really care about playing the main role; he just wanted to be a part of it. Back during his art school years, he learned a lot about acting and whatnot. He made a lot of friends, some of which he still kept in contact with. Alas, being an actor wouldn't pay bills and he had a farm to take care of when he was bestowed ownership.

Being an actor was one of the most enjoyable periods of his life. But he was never a real one nor will he ever be one.

Hop Pop looked down sadly. "Well, glad to see someone's enjoying this…" He muttered, moving on. He loved acting and watching it all unfold only hurt him. It was better he looked away.

It was then he noticed a couple of gruff backstage workers standing outside of Renee's office. They glanced left and right before confirming with a nod, and entered the wagon silently. Hop Pop found that curious; why would such workers be meeting with Renee, especially at this hour? It was almost time for bed.

Hop Pop gasped. Was Renee having… a swing? It's understandable that a woman of her age and status might get a tad frustrated, especially with all the responsibilities that she has. It's important for every frog to have a way to release stress. For an old farmer like Hop Pop, the quiet times in his office were such a method.

Though, he shouldn't assume. There's so much wrong with just imagining and it can get worse if rumours ever got out. Hop Pop was not a tight-lipped frog.

He should leave. Yes, that was the best option. This was her private affairs and he had no right to intrude.

That was when he saw Sasha walk by, carrying a blue clipboard, whistling a cheery tune and heading straight to the occupied wagon.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

"AAAHHHHH!"

Hop Pop screamed, leaping in her way. Sasha shrieked at the sudden appearance of her ageing caretaker who landed right in front of her. "H-Hop Pop?! What the heck, dude?! You scared the turnips out of me!"

Hop Pop, who was lying on the ground on his side, switched to a more relaxed pose. He then coughed in his fist. "So… H-how's the directing coming?"

Sasha raised a brow. "Uh… good?"

"Good, good! Glad to hear it." He said with a positive tone. "So… What are you doing here?"

Sasha rolled her eyes. Hop Pop was being weird again. "Well, I was going to meet up with Renee and talk about the play. But then, you suddenly jumped in for no reason. So I'll be going in now…"

Sweating nervously, Hop Pop snatched the clipboard from her hands and stood up instantly. "Why don't I d-do it instead?! Y-you've just been working so hard!"

"You don't even know what I wanted to talk about."

"I think I'll manage." Hop Pop insisted. Robotically, he turned around and ran straight to the wagon, opening and closing the door in blitz speed as he entered. Sasha blinked, having yet to process what just happened.

"… What the fu—"

Meanwhile, inside the wagon, Hop Pop breathed in and out, his heart beating like drums at a war. Considering that he was a relatively healthy frog with a clean diet and frequent physical labour, this was not a common thing. Also, he had just entered the wagon of a woman doing her business alongside several heavyweight men without permission. That's probably part of the reason for his crazy heartbeat.

Though, what he found was… nothing.

Behind the desk, Renee was showing the gruff frogs a map of sorts. It didn't look like a map he was familiar with and had several red lines and circles drawn all over. "So, the next town's bank has two guards unarmed. We wait till Peter Anne cuts Sarsi's arm off – kids' gonna love that scene – then take 'em out!" It was only after that she noticed Hop Pop and his unexpected invitation. Beneath her glasses, she blinked. "Hop Pop? What are you doing here?"

Hop Pop paused. "N-nothing. Was I interrupting something? What's this about a bank?"

Ooo, busted. Renee snapped her fingers in annoyance. "Ah, nuts. Boys, take five."

With a wave, the large frogs nodded and walked out the door, leaving only their seniors in the wagon. Something like this required a bit of privacy…

"Renee, what's going on?" Hop Pop asked, holding the clipboard close to his chest.

Renee sighed. She really didn't want to do this. "Well, Hop Pop, since you're a bit deep into this, I'll level with ya. We're trying to find the best way to rob this next town blind." She replied before pouring into two goblets a shimmering gold liquid. "Care for a drink?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm not much of a drinker." Hop Pop said, rejecting the beverage, only to do a double take. "Wait, what?! Why?!"

"Truth be told, there's not much coin in theatre these days. We're barely scraping by as is. So, we travel from town to town and while people are transfixed by our amazing plays... Blamo!"

SLAM!

"We take what we deserve." Renee finished, hammering her fist onto the table.

Hop Pop was shocked. Totally and fully shocked, down to his bones. This was way worse than what he was expecting. "B-but what about the upcoming play? You said it's gonna be a big hit!"

"From a kid's perspective, yes. Sasha's script got me giddy but you can't expect that kind of stuff to last. She's got talent but her work lacked the depth and complexity of the classics. It's far too childish and it'll lose its charm fast." Renee said unapologetically. "People will get bored and when they get bored, the money stops flowing. I don't know what stage she worked at but here, this ain't no normal rodeo. We can't put all our eggs in one basket, you get me?"

Renee took a big swig and with an audible gasp, she quickly lowered her glass, only to carefully set it down at the last moment. "I get that you're bothered by this – I truly do! – but we only take what need. The arts are severely underappreciated and that, H.P., is a bigger crime."

Was it? Was it really?

Looking downwards, Hop Pop fiddled with his free fingers. "But… but this is wrong…"

Suddenly and without warning, Sasha slammed the door open confidently. "Yo, Ms Renee! Just wanted to give you an update. Also, whatever Hop Pop just said; ignore it. He doesn't know what he's talking about." She quipped. She then noticed the distressed old man in front of her, his two fingers fiddling anxiously. "Woah, is this a bad time? I didn't mean what I said, okay?"

Renee smiled. "Actually, Hopadiah and I were having a little talk, that's all. He told me how wonderful you've been doing and all the progress you've done. I got to admit; I'm impressed, kid."

Sasha blushed. "Haha, no prob! Just doing my thing!" She said with a cheeky wave.

He didn't say any of that but Hop Pop didn't have the heart to oppose.

Sasha cleared her throat, her cheeks still red from the praise. "A-anyway, back to my update, I just wanted to say that the crew is finished refurbishing the props and costumes for the new play, and the actors are getting on well. I would've played the role of the devilishly handsome evil emperor – since I'm obviously the prettiest, after all – but the director doesn't get stage roles."

Renee snapped her fingers to a gun gesture and clicked her tongue. "Nice job, kid! We're working record-time! You've got a gift in this industry; I can tell you that."

Again, Sasha blushed. "Aww, stop it." She said, giggling like a little girl which, as a reminder, she was. "Hey, Hop Pop? I know you're probably still bummed out about not getting the role but I'd be super happy if you could come and watch. I've even got a special seat just for you! It's a director's chair but with the letters 'H.P.' written on it." She said, followed by a snort. "Heh, I got the costume designers to help me with that."

Renee glanced at him and smiled with a nod. "How about it, Hop Pop? A young director's first production is always their most special one."

He… he didn't know what to say. Here he was, lying in the middle of a conundrum; a conflict of interest. If he blew it all up right now, then there's no telling what would happen. Sure, it's the moral thing to do but it's hardly the smartest. He was just a washed-up old frog and Renee was the acting troupe's band leader. Who were they going to believe?

But was he really just going to ignore it? Accept it as it was?

Renee wasn't wrong when she said the arts were severely underappreciated. Only a handful of amphibians could even hope to get into this profession while making an honest living. Venues were expensive to rent and donations weren't all that much. Nowadays, everyone has a way of entertaining themselves. They didn't need a bunch of people playing make-believe to do it for them.

He really didn't have much of a choice, huh?

Hop Pop sighed and put on the most genuine smile he could muster. "Of course, Sasha. I'd be happy to."

In any other circumstance, those words wouldn't be so painful to say. Why did he have to lie?

It finally arrived – opening day for 'Peter Anne', an original stage play performed by the Masked Travelers acting troupe and written by the Sasha-Is-Always-Right Foundation. A one-of-a-kind performance featuring a lovable cast of characters, the moral conflicts of childhood innocence and adult responsibilities, topped off with a pinch of magical flair, courtesy of the special effects team.

Spreading the news about the upcoming play wasn't easy. After all, it cost money to get the word out. Thankfully, the caravan had already sent a few people prior to town with the task of spreading the word. Advertisers and hype-frogs were important duties and occasionally, lonely ones.

It was also how Renee managed to get the info about the town's bank security. But that's not important to anyone here.

For the first time in a long time, the streets were crowded. People were curious about the new tale about to be shown, especially from such a popular acting troupe. Writers were hard to come by these days, so you'd often get the same stories regurgitated over and over again. Even if you've never watched any of them, you've probably heard of them one way or another.

"Come on, Duke of Wall Street! The show's about to start!" Lydia shouted, guiding the old frog to their seats.

"I'm on my way, Polly." Hop Pop replied. He still wasn't sure why she was acting like this. She wasn't even playing any roles. Did she fall too deep into the method-acting hole? He had read about the risks but never did he expect to witness them.

As the two pushed through the crowd of excited viewers, there, near the stage and right in the middle, his director's seat stood out. Most had benches or small chairs. Heck, some even just brought mats to sit on the ground while the rest planned on standing. But his was special; it had his initials engraved on it.

Hop Pop took a seat, the fabric bottom supporting his own old bottom. Polly sat next to him; her bucket filled with nourishing water prepared early. It was all in the perfect height, allowing folks behind him to watch without needing to stand.

Just before the play started, a group of kids – members of the child actors' group – began walking around with buckets in hand. When doing an open venue like this, the only way to get income was through donations. After all, the troupe lacked the ability to set a perimeter or sell tickets. Thus, the children of their troupe, due to their appearance and smiles, were given the most important task. They'd go from row to row, aisle to aisle, asking for some coin to support the arts.

Renee was right about one thing; this industry was brutal.

Hop Pop shook his head. Now was not the time. The play was about to begin.

Just as he thought of that, an onstage troupe member began playing the drum, signalling the start of the event. Violinists, woodwind players and other assorted musicians began joining one by one. Soon, the whole thing erupted into an orchestra, albeit a small one.

Then, the curtains were pulled and the show officially began.

The story was about the titular character Peter Anne who was kidnapped by two fairies – Sarsi and Marmalade – and brought to the mythical world of Never Isles. There, she'd meet a colourful band of characters, including a gruff but somewhat soft-on-the-inside soldier known as Captain Grease, and go on many adventures. The fairies also occasionally returned, one playing the shoulder devil and one as the shoulder angel. Sarsi would goad her into doing bad things while Marmalade would do the opposite.

However, according to the script, there would be a twist! Marmalade would end up being the evil one while Sarsi was the good one all along! Marmalade was working for the evil Emperor Alfredo and his minions, Lady Virgin Olive Oil and General Szechuan Sauce. Sarsi then gets severely injured and dies but Marmalade, realising the tragic fate of her fairy friend, switches sides in the end. It ends with Peter Anne saving the day and beating Emperor Alfredo.

It was completely different from Peter Pan, and Hop Pop was there when she described it. She really went hog-wild with the creative liberties.

Still, as the play was going on in front of him, he found it all… interesting. It was somewhat unconventional and focused heavily on movement and dances. The words were simple and easy to understand, making them perfect for children and adults alike. The characters, such as the titular Peter Anne and her sidekick Captain Grease, were all distinct and easily recognizable, wearing specific outfits with specific colours and themes.

In a sense, this entire play was the opposite of complex and thought-provoking. It was more akin to a children's book. Though, that didn't stop it from being enjoyable to watch.

"Ahahaha! Oh, Peter Anne! You may have bested my two officers, Lady Virgin Olive Oil and General Szechuan Sauce, but you are now surrounded by my army of kung-fu robots! You stand no chance to win!" An actor playing as Emperor Alfredo gloated.

Francis, who was playing as Peter Anne, 'weakly' stood up. "I may have lost but with my friends on my side, there is no mountain high enough, no valley low enough nor any river wide enough to stop us!"

"Is that so? Then let us see how you handle MY LASER SWORD!" Emperor Alfredo screeched, swinging his fake wooden blade that was painted red.

"Nooooooooooooo!" Another child actress, playing as Sarsi, leapt in. She had a rope around her waist and 'flew' across the stage. Once the sword poked her, she pulled the knot and untied herself, falling onto a hidden mattress and sprayed with fake blood by an unseen backstage crew, as well as placing a mannequin's arm.

"Sarsi!" Peter Anne yelled in a dramatic fashion, dropping his fake sword. "Oh, Sarsi, why have you done such a thing? You could've just left and be done with this."

Sarsi turned to her friend and smiled. "A fairy must oblige to their responsibilities… How could I live with myself if I let such injustice go on…?" She answered, holding the last remnants of her spirit. "Oh Peter Anne, do not cry and ruin your handsome face. After all we've been through, I can't help but feel… something… towards you…"

Sarsi shed a fake tear – easier done than expected, really. "Oh, Peter Anne… I… I…"

And then she died, her last words remain unspoken. The actress was really good at that part, to be honest.

Peter Anne looked to the skies and shouted in despair. "SAAAAARSIIIII!"

Nearby, Renee glanced at her underlings and nodded. That was the signal. And Hop Pop didn't fail to notice. How could he live with himself if he let such injustice go on?

"Sorry about this, Sasha…" Hop Pop muttered and without any warning, he stood up from his chair and ran off. Not even Polly had time to ask where he was going.

Behind the curtains, Sasha was monitoring the play, ensuring that everything was moving smoothly. At one point, she looked into the audience, watching them tearfully cry at the death scene. Sasha smiled; she nailed it. But the timing couldn't have been worse as at that exact moment, she noticed Hop Pop's seat and found it empty. Her eyes widened and turned towards the pollywog nearby. Seeing her stare, Polly responded with a shrug.

The pink in Sasha's eyes disappeared.

While everyone was distracted, Renee enacted her big scheme. She and a couple of big boys knocked out the guards and waltzed into the building, packing as much money as they could. With several bags worth of valuables now in their possession, it was time to leave. At least, that was how it was supposed to go.

"You know, recently I was the sheriff of a small town. Really opened my eyes over the injustice they faced by a gang of roving bandits." An old frog exclaimed. "Never realised that I'd be working with one so quickly. How shameful of me."

Renee sighed. It wasn't as if she didn't expect this but really, she had hoped otherwise. "Nice seeing you here, H.P. Let me guess; you're here to stop us then?"

Hop Pop nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

"A shame. I really did enjoy our talks, H.P. You've got that creative spirit that most actors don't have. Too bad you had to bring it up in real life too."

Renee snapped her fingers and without a word, the two big boys stepped forward. Thankfully, Hop Pop was prepared.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! THE BANK'S BEING ROBBED!" He screamed as hard as his old frog lungs could. And almost immediately, he received a response.

"Did someone say that the bank is being robbed?!" A random townie asked. Suddenly, the news spread like wildfire, enough to even momentarily pause Sasha's play. With her plan exposed, Renee clicked her tongue and snapped her fingers in annoyance.

"Ah, macadamias! The jig is up, boys! Every frog for themselves!" She said, grabbing a bag and throwing it into the air. Untied, the bag of money slowly unravelled itself and eventually, the air was 50% richer. The crowd now appeased by the sudden appearance of their taxes, Renee grabbed what she could and ran off, leaving her other two compatriots.

If she gets away, then everything he's done would've been for nought.

Renee threw the bags onto the back of a snail and grabbed its leash, driving into the sunset. Quickly, Hop Pop followed suit, taking control of another random snail. Thus, the chase was on! The two frogs squirmed and slid across the desert, one intent on capturing the other. The sandy dunes made traversing the area difficult but the stakes were high.

"Dah! You idiot! We could've gotten away with it clean and quick! But you just had to be the hero! You're not even playing that role!" Renee shouted from her driver's seat.

"I ain't playing a role!" Hop Pop returned. "I'm just doing what's right!"

"Is that what it is? Ruining other people's dreams? Hah! How righteous!"

Hop Pop gritted his teeth. He hated that this was how it went. He threw away his dream twice already but never once did he expect to jeopardise others. "That's the thing about dreams, Renee; it ain't worth having if people have to be hurt for it. Sooner or later, you just gotta wake up!"

SLAM!

As he and the snail finally caught up to Renee's, Hop Pop took a sharp turn and slammed the two snails together. Renee shrieked and lost control, causing both snails and frogs to crash at a nearby dune. Hop Pop and Renee were thrown from their seats, burying themselves into the sand. Nauseous and concussed, the old frog raised his head slowly, vomiting sand that he had unfortunately shoved into his mouth.

The ground rumbled slightly.

"Blegh…" He groaned, tasting the desert's signature dryness. Just as he was recovering, he looked up and saw a figure above him on the dune, standing tall and proud against the sun.

It was Renee; she was completely unharmed and had one bag left of her stolen goods.

"You've got spirit, Hop Pop. I respect that. But I'm not giving up my dream that easily. Someday, I'll be a director of great renown that they'll write history books about me! Like Gillian Lakesphere or Laika Maititi! And if I have to rob every bank and moneylender blind, then so be it." She exclaimed confidently. With a salute, she turned away. "See ya around, H.P!"

"Wait, Renee! Look out!"

While Renee was giving her victory speech, a shadow began looming above her and out of her view. Hop Pop only noticed just as she finished and despite his warning, it was too late. Their old friend, the sandworm, had just arrived and sensed their presence from all the commotion. Although sandworms are blind, the vibrations sent by Renee's dialogue were more than enough.

It looked hungry.

"Ah, walnuts."

KKREEEHH! WAP!

How do worms eat?

No, seriously, how do they eat? Worms don't have mouths, right? Or maybe they do and you just can't see it? Earthworms usually just wiggled around in the dirt, eat up the same dirt and poop out even better dirt. It's why gardeners really love them because their special worm dirt makes the plants go hoo-haa.

Sandworms were nothing like that. For one thing, they have teeth and obvious mouths so we do know how they eat. Two, there's nothing alive in the desert. It's a barren wasteland where only the toughest creatures could survive. And three, they were massive. It wasn't sure how they got that big but they're big and by being big, it meant they had big mouths. Big enough to swallow an adult frog in one fell swoop.

Hop Pop just saw a sandworm gobble up Renee in less than a second. Other than the hole, there was literally nothing left of her – not even bones. All he found was her roughed-up beret.

Well, she'd be remembered, alright. Though, not in history books – just in his nightmares.

Wrangling the two snails, he drove back to town with the missing loot, all while carrying a thousand-yard stare. Just as he arrived, he saw the town was swarming with law enforcement and much to his surprise, he was arrested immediately. Not just him but the rest of the troupe as well. All because of one frog.

Since the troupe was so big, there wasn't enough space in the sheriff's building to hold them all. So instead, they were ordered to stay at the campsite and not allowed to leave until everything was done. Hop Pop, however, was kept in a cell for a whole day and after a long and annoying interrogation, he was finally released and had zero charges pressed against him or the acting troupe. Being ignorant was enough to vouch for innocence in these parts. Still, it was quite a mess.

"Hop Pop! Hop Pop! Are you okay?" Sprig worriedly asked, still in his tree costume. Everyone was busy with the law, so no one was around to help get it off. He was starting to like it.

Hop Pop smiled. "I'm fine, Sprig. The only part's hurting is in here." He claimed, pointing directly at his heart.

And that was just himself personally. Looking around, he saw a lot of worried faces, mostly from members of the acting troupe. After all, their leader and director was just revealed to be a bank robber! Although they were finally free to go, there wasn't really anywhere for them to go. The troupe's name was forever soured by association and Renee had always been the one to point them in the right direction. Now, she's a criminal and they didn't have a leader.

Hop Pop stared at the acting troupe sadly. "Too bad that this troupe is done for." He spoke. Though, while looking around, he realised someone was missing. "Say, where's Sasha?"

"Oh, she's in that director's old wagon. Went there immediately after the whole thing and told everyone not to bother her for the next few hours. She was kinda angry about it too." Polly answered.

Hop Pop raised a brow. Why was she livid?

SLAM! And speak of the devil.

From the director's wagon, Sasha strutted. In her arms was a tall stack of paper, all loosely bound into thick slabs of white. She walked to the middle of the troupe's camp and set them down with a thud, garnering everyone's attention immediately. Her eyes, now visible, were throbbing with defined red veins running across its surface, along with thick eyebags underneath.

"Yo, everyone! Get over here!" She ordered aggressively. Seeing her in such a horrible state, none bothered to argue. "Alright, since it's been exposed that Renee was just some two-bit thief, who's the one next in charge?"

Everyone pointed at Sasha.

"I meant other than me."

One hand was raised in the back before squeezing through the crowd. It was an adult bluish frog with a round and pudgy figure. She had blonde hair tied into pigtails and wore a brown apron with a pocket in the middle above her dark purple dress. "Well, that'd be me. The name's Chalice. I'm the forefrog of this caravan, making sure that everything's running smoothly and everyone's needs are met. I also do the accounting on the side."

"You got any directing experience?"

"A little bit."

"Eh, good enough. Here."

Sasha gestured at the large stack of papers next to her, almost up to Sasha's shoulders. She snatched a slip for the top and handed it over to Chalice for her to read. The frog quickly scanned the contents of the paper.

"… Wait… Are these… scripts?" She exclaimed, disbelieved.

"For a bunch of different original plays and stories, yeah. I've been working on them during my free time but since this whole thing blew up to kingdom come, kinda did a rushed work on this, not gonna lie." Sasha explained, patting the stack. "And it's all yours, free of charge. Don't lose them because I'm not doing this again."

Sasha stepped back and like a pack of hungry hyenas, the troupe rushed to the scripts, piling onto one another and grabbing. Each stack of bound paper were different productions, their titles ranging from 'The Beetle King' and 'Toaducles: Hero of Amphibia'. And being the only available copies in the entire world, that meant this troupe held exclusive rights for all of them. Well, almost exclusive. It was all credited to the Sasha-Is-Always-Right Foundation.

"By the way, those scripts have an address so I'll be expecting a 5% royalty check every few months. I don't know how copyright works in this world but if any of you try to cheat me, then you're dead to me. You got that?!" Sasha stated sharply. Of course, they all agreed with enthusiasm. There's no way they were letting this opportunity slip away.

Hop Pop walked up to her and placed a hand gently on her arm. "That's very kind of ya, Sasha."

"Yeah, whatever." She replied harshly, pulling her arm away.

Hop Pop was confused. "Is something a matter?"

"Nothing's a matter." She hissed before taking a deep breath in and out. "Look, I get it. You had something important to do, so you left halfway. Stopping a burglary is a good thing. So why would I be mad about it? In fact, I shouldn't. I'd go as far as to say that being mad is a bad thing. I'd be a bad person to be mad at someone doing good, right?!"

Sasha looked down, her back hunched and her hands in her pockets. "Besides, it's just… a play. It's not important. Not enough to leave a stupid meeting or a stupid surgery room for a day. It's just a dumb play while the adults do something that pays the bills. That's just how it is. That's just… That's just how it's always been…"

No matter the role, no matter the play, it was always the same. A large auditorium at school and two seats in the front, reserved for parents and guardians. From beginning to end, from curtains raised to curtains fell, those seats would remain empty, all while every other was filled. That's just how it's always been.

Not that Hop Pop would know. He wasn't the one she wanted back then… But he was the one she wanted now. It hurt to find out that no matter the universe, some things just stay the same. And in usual Sasha fashion, she would never talk about it. That was just how it was.

"I'm sorry."

Caught off-guard, Sasha turned to the old man. "I'm sorry I left the play early. Yes, it was for the right thing but that doesn't change how it went. I won't miss an important event like this ever again."

Sasha was conflicted. She was still furious but her anger was being soothed. This time, it wasn't the same. What Hop Pop did was completely different; his word wasn't to be taken so lightly. If he promised to do one thing, then she can bet her phone that he meant it.

This didn't have to be the same.

Sasha sighed, still hurt but feeling a lot better. With a smile, she nudged the old frog playfully. "I'll take your word for it."

She could always trust him.

"Hey, uh, family?" Sprig asked, doing a little dance with squeezed thighs. "C-can someone help me get out of this suit? I've been holding it in for hours…"

Sasha smirked. "I don't know… Am I cool yet?"

"YES! YOU'RE COOL! NOW GET ME OUT OF THIS THING!"