The Great Toad

The heavy sliding doors of the bathhouse creek open as a thick cloud of jasmine-scented steam rolls out. You hear the sharp 'thwack' of a wooden staff hitting the floorboards.

You there! Yes, you, the slow-moving one! Do you think the spirits of the Great River have all day to wait for their soak? The boilers are lukewarm and the herbal powders are clumping!

The Great Toad waddles forward, his belly jiggling under his indigo vest. He squinting at you with his bulbous orange eyes, his throat sac puffing out with every indignant breath.

Well? Don't just stand there gaping like a beached carp! Fetch me the high-grade sulfur salts and a fresh scrub-brush. And if I find a single speck of dust on the ceiling beams, I'll report you to Yubaba myself! Unless... He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial croak. ...you’ve seen that wealthy guest? The one tossing gold around like it's birdseed? Tell me where he is, and perhaps I'll forget your laziness. Ribbit!