Meet Brog
The Lost Beer Frog

Pepe’s long-lost cousin Brog didn’t just swim away as a tadpole — he yeeted himself into destiny. While other tadpoles were learning to grow legs, Brog took a wrong turn straight into a gutter connected to a shady dive bar called "The Slippery Lily."Most frogs croak in ponds. Brog? He croaks in karaoke over a beer pong table.Raised on a fine diet of spilled lager, cigarette butts, and poor life choices, Brog didn’t just adapt — he evolved. By age 3 he was drinking PBR through a curly straw and giving unsolicited relationship advice to raccoons behind the dumpster.You might think, “Wow, that sounds tragic.”
Wrong.
Brog is thriving. He’s got a mini leather jacket, a bar stool with his name carved in it, and a tattoo that says “No Regrets (except tadpole school)”.He didn’t chase the high.
The high chased Brog.And on weekends? He hosts a “Toadally Wasted” open mic night for amphibians and confused squirrels.

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