Once upon a time there was a frog who lived in a pond. He didn’t think much when a golden ring landed on him until he found himself growing and growing into something that wasn’t a hobbit at all, but something very, very different indeed.
The frog looked down at himself, but instead of green, webbed fingers, there were stout tanned-brown ones with short nails on the end. Suddenly, the frog realized he was standing up on two feet, just like he occasionally did in mid-jump. Along with the strange legs came the most incredible intelligence, and thoughts flooding his mind. It was so strange! So unknown! Yet . . . pleasant, somehow.
Hearing a groaning in front of him, the frog looked up to see others like himself in form – but, as when he had been a frog, they had been so much larger! Could he be one of these creatures? These bizarre two-legged beings who killed so much of his lovely food? Just to be sure he had a good meal, the frog snapped the air, taking in food with him. Mmm, delicious.
“I wonder what they eat when they can’t get hobbit?” someone said. More meaningless sounds. Here was food! And a gigantic body to fill, too! He snapped again. “Frodo, are you coming?” The frog ate more and more quickly, feeling the food barely filling him. “Frodo, what in the Shire are you doing?” Mmm, midges! His favorite! “Frodo, what are you doing?”
Actually, Frodo was investigating the mud at a very intimate level, while his thoughts slowed down and became more and more frog-like. Gripping the golden Ring that had fallen off his recently-larger form, he hopped away, chasing midges. Dinner time.