Goodbye, Mr. Frog.

Mr. Fox sat on the edge of the riverbank in his black waistcoat and tie, waiting under the umbrella for Mr. Frog. the umbrella did not keep the cold out, but we have to remember that the last time Mr. Fox felt anything was long enough ago that the text has faded from the history books.
A shadow came hopping out from the reeds, and 'plop', landed Mr. Frog on a close by lilypad.
Mr. Fox haughtily snooted, and cleared his throat in a manner considered rude amongst most civilised cultures.
"What do you want Mr. Frog?" he asked, his voice as smooth as honey and as cunning as...well, as a fox. Isn't is funny how some people really live up to their names?
The green, pathetic, dishevelled frog infront of him was, to Mr. Fox's mind, a pathetic excuse for a living thing and felt it should be highly honoured by his even showing up at the creatures request. 'His suit isn't even laundered,' he thought snootily.
But the frog had insisted, and since the only other thing he had planned on doing was plotting of ways how to torture little field mice, he figured he might as well come.
Mr. Frog cleared his throat, croaked rapidly several times, cleared his throat again and readjusted his tie nervously. but he was determined to say what he had to say.
"Uh...Mr. Fox. i was wondering...i'm not sure if you know this but the toad family recently lost their home due to flooding caused by some humans, and i was wondering if maybe you could loan them some - "
"What? is this all i'm seen as? a charity? look, Frog, i don't know what kind of frognip you might have obtained, but i don't give charity. why should i? if the toad family - "
"Mr. Toad just got laid off because he lost his legs to some Frenchmen in an accident, and he can't work the lilypads anymore. please sir, have some hea-"
"IF Mr. Toad has lost his legs, why should i care? i still have mine. How dare you call me out into the rain for this? i have much more impotant things to do! now leave, and never ask me again for charity!"
Mr. Fox turned on his paws and started to haughtily walk away, hinking of ways in which he could punish the frog for wasting his time when a wet, slimy foot landed on his back.
he turned around, furiously "Get your digusting webbed feet off my ba-"
"Look Mr. Fox! how about if you did have your legs taken away from you? or your tail? what would keep your balance, then how would you get around and run your business? everyone told me this was a waste of time but i thought that somewhere in you there must be a nice guy, who would consider this problem. maybe think about it before a little before you turned it away. but i guess i was wrong. your nothing but the snooty old fox you've always been. i was a fool for trying. i'll just...i don't know, i'll find another way to help Mr. Toad out.  i thought you were someone...but i guess i was wrong. i guess that deep inside your proud, shiny coat, inside is nothing but dust. i'm sorry i wasted your time," Mr. Frog brushed his foot over his shiny, bald head and looked like the most tired thing you've ever seen. "Just...sorry i wasted your time. goodbye."

And as the frog leapt tiredly away, the rain came to  slow, and Mr. Fox stared after him, with a strange feeling growing in his chest...almost like...remorse? no. Mr. Fox never felt anything. it wasn't possible that he felt...