Robert Ribbit didn't start life as a sticker; he was once a fiercely ambitious philosopher residing in the deepest, most contemplative bog of the whispering marsh. While other frogs spent their days perfecting the art of catching flies, Robert stared deep into the cosmic abyss—mostly because his left eye had a severe independent streak and his right eye was perpetually locked onto a passing dragonfly that left three hours ago.

One fateful afternoon, while attempting a profound leap of faith to escape a remarkably aggressive blue heron, Robert accidentally launched himself straight through a dimensional portal made entirely of prism glass and industrial vinyl adhesive. When he landed, he had been instantly immortalized in glorious, weather-proof high definition.

Now, he spends his days stuck on water bottles, laptops, and notebooks, with his gloriously uncoordinated, permanently startled gaze.