So ... a toad walked into a bank ...

A very fancy toad went into a bank to get a loan. He was all dressed up like a dandy, and his taste was impeccable. He was, in fact, dressed for success.

He walked like he meant it. He strode into the bank, and up to the desk of one of the loan officers, and without being asked, he climbed up into the chair and planted himself in its cushy depths as if he owned the place. With a glance at her name plate, and ignoring the startled look on her pretty face, he said, "I would like a loan, Ms. ... uh ... Ms. Patricia Wrack. May I call you Patty? I need some money for a good cause - and I'm good for it. You can trust me. I need three million dollars."

It took a moment or two, but the pretty, young loan officer recovered herself, and finally sputtered, "I'm sorry ... but ... are you a toad?"

"Young woman, you can see quite clearly what I am. And I need a loan."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we do not loan money to animals - of any kind." (She didn't want him to think she was unfairly discriminating or prejudiced or anything.)

"Ms. Wrack, I am not unaware of bank policies. I am rather well connected - my father is, in fact, the famous Mick Jagger. I'm sure you have heard of him. But I can't expect you to believe me on that score. Here. This will reassure you. I have brought collateral." And at this, the toad dug a small figurine from his coat pocket and set it on her desk. "There. You see? That is a priceless statue, and you may hold it until I repay you."

She gaped at the piece of tacky plastic on her desk - and decided she needed help.

"Just a moment, sir. I need to talk to my manager. Would it be okay with you if I took this -- uh, this statue with me to show him?"

"Certainly, certainly. I know the man. Tell him I said hello."

Cursing the day she decided on a career in finance, the young loan officer took the plastic figurine into her manager's office and shut the glass door behind her. He looked up from his desk, and when he saw her face, he stopped what he was doing and paid attention.

"Sir, I am sorry to barge in like this, but I have no idea what to do. See this?" She put the figurine on his desk. "That toad - yes, a toad! - out there says that this is his collateral. He wants a loan - in the amount of three million dollars! For this! This plastic do-dad. I have no idea what to do."

The bank manager looked out through the glass of his office door and saw the toad sitting in the chair, nodding to the people in the bank, behaving as if he were a most important client. He relaxed a little, and turned back to the younger woman.

"Do you know who that is?" he asked her.

"No, of course not. He told me he's the son of Mick Jagger, for crying out loud. He's obviously crazy. What should I do? I mean ... look at what he thinks collateral is!"

And the bank manager said ...

"It's a knick-knack, Patty Wrack. Give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone."