Scientists unearth the Frogger to end all Froggers

I am something of an aficionado of fearsome, whoppingly huge ancient animals, a delightful personality trait I can trace to elementary school, when -- and I apologize for sounding arrogant here -- I was the UNDISPUTED GOD OF KNOWING DINOSAUR STUFF in all of Upland Elementary's fourth grade.

I don't want to show off or anything, but I knew what made an ankylosaur an ankylosaur, how to spell pachycephalosaurus without breaking a sweat. I was the bees' knees of lunch-pail dinosaurdom, until I happened upon an unwelcome discovery of my own: Knowing a whole lot about dinosaurs does not actually make you cool, rather it results in your having a scorching-red target on your back during dodgeball games, makes girls think you're an asthmatic drip and makes the other kids knock books out of your hands for no apparent reason, like Chris Kirkpatrick, not that I'm still thinking a lot about this, jerk.

Whatever. These days, most of my youthful dinosaur-based knowledge has completely evaporated from my brain, as have most of the things I felt pretty cool about knowing when I was a kid, such as the real names of the G.I. Joe characters, how to play the piano and all the state capitals. But there is something appealing, on a very primal, grunty level, about dinosaurs, particularly, I think, if you're a boy, which I was, and/or are raising one. My 4-year-old son is just now entering his dinosaur phase, which is fantastic news for me, both because I too enjoy the dinosaurs and because it means maybe we don't have to watch "The Polar Express" 12 times a day anymore.

Which is why I received this week's news about the discovery of a massive varmint called the Devil Toad with such childlike glee, partly because it's an interesting nugget of science, and because there is not one single story in recorded human literature can't be improved by adding a Devil Toad to it. Seriously. Try it.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and there was a Devil Toad over by the fridge." Awesome.

"Call me Ishmael, and call my Devil Toad Larry."

Rocking.

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, except the Devil Toad -- we saved him a seat over by the big guy."

Fossils of the Devil Toad, if you're one of those people who don't keep up with science, like Mike Huckabee, were recently discovered in Madagascar; the animal lived 65 to 70 million years ago during the age of the dinosaurs, measured 16 inches, weighed 10 pounds and ate baby dinosaurs, one of the only kinds of babies it's OK to eat, all according to researchers at Stony Brook University in Stony Brook, New York.

The scientists christened this extremely unappealing-looking monster Beelzebufo ampinga, which loosely translates into "Frog That Could Eat That Girl From 'Little Miss Sunshine' And Not Really Give It Much Of A Second Thought."

So welcome, Devil Toad! And thanks for being one of those little discoveries that gives you a brief moment of weird, childlike wonder and knowledge, which I am taking directly back to Upland Elementary, where I will totally lord it over everyone.