It's a frog's life

Last night I got home a bit late, turned on the lights, walked into the kitchen and found this:



Now at first glance you might think it's a cute, harmless, helpless frog like this:

But it wasn't. It was a scaly, shriveled, disgusting frog like this:

So I called every guy I could think of in a ten mile radius to help me get it out of my house. Several of them didn't answer their phones. A few of them responded like this:

But one of them (after laughing a little bit) showed up at my house to rescue me from the clutches of the evil frog, making me think of this:

He then affirmed my decision to call for help by telling me that picking up the frog "was pretty gross" and that I could call him any time I needed help and he would be on the way, which made me feel like this:

And probably made him feel a little like this:

So after the heroic rescue, everyone was happy, except the frog. Who was dead. The end.