Were it not for the clouds and the thick marine layer, a casual observer on the Southern Pacific coast of California might have glanced up just after sunset and seen a particularly magnificent meteor pass through the atmosphere as bright as a signal flare and headed due East. And were it not for the driving rains in the Arizona desert, another casual observer might have seen the same meteor plunging towards the red rock foothills just outside of Phoenix like an apocalypse ignored, only to slow its descent in a magnificent flare of white phosphorescent fire, and alight gently amongst the boulders. It was a good thing that no one was out that night, otherwise, they might have glanced up at the hill and seen the hulking mass of something that looked like a monstrous mechanical toad, steel burned clean as chrome on atmospheric reentry still hissing and steaming in the rain. At the controls, silently complaining about the lack of windshield wipers, and attempting to wipe the inside of the cockpit canopy clear of condensation, sat two distinctly rubbery skinned tiny humanoids who had absolutely no idea when or where they had landed. A long inactive screen on the dashboard suddenly lit up with a variety of green lights and bouncing signal bars. “Woah!” exclaimed the giant metal toad. “I have Wi-Fi again!” Meanwhile, the enclosed frogs silently argued about malfunctioning climate controls and nonfunctioning dehumidifying systems.

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