Kermie's Girl (ushy-gushy fanfic)

Davina

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Thank you, this is so what I needed today. took a few days before i could sit down and read this but so glad i managed to find time earlier today, our 11 yr old jack russel terrier is dying from lymphoma and odds are high she won't make it through tonight (though odds were against her seeing the new year and she beat those.. but this time I don't think she will.. ) so it's been a sad day. so the distraction was lovely :smile: Thank you.
 

newsmanfan

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Chapter 139: The Set-Up (Ahem)

Kermit heaved a sigh. “Thank you. Thanks, Fozzie. I’m a wreck, you know?”
Fozzie smiled and patted the rattled amphibian on the back.
“I know,” he said soothingly, and Kermit shot him a wry look.
“You could at least disagree with me,” he murmured.
It was Fozzie’s turn to sigh. “I could,” he said calmly, “but I’m a terrible liar.”


[Piggy] was bound to be upset—bound to be unhappy—but it had to be done. He was going to do his best (and his worst) and try to make her see what the next step was...

... while Kermit knew he had Gonzo’s unswerving loyalty and affection, there were times when he could cheerfully murder the little weirdo—or at least stuff him in a supply closet for a few days.

“Breathe,” she said. “In—no, breathe. I didn’t say pant. Okay—that’s better..."

[Rowlf] Jerry Lee Lewis sure had known what he was about, and it was a pleasure to share an oldie but a goodie. ... Within weeks, it had become obvious to everyone that Piggy had her cute little cap set for Kermit, and Kermit had bulbous eyes for her alone. Well, it had been obvious to everyone but Kermit.
... Secretly, Rowlf thought it had done Kermit good to be prodded out of his comfort zone.

[Piggy] The ultra-sheer pair were so fine that they made her feel more naked than actually being naked, and she didn’t actually want to feel naked while talking to Kermit on live television. Well, actually— And here her thoughts derailed happily.

Piggy looked at him irritably, then shook her head. “Give me a second,” she said, and Howard and Darcy exchanged surprised looks. Piggy was looking down at the ground, and Thoreau was looking at Piggy and then Piggy shrugged, and straightened, and snapped back up to attention, one hip cocked and her hands on her waist.
“Yo—pretty boy,” Piggy said. “Watcha think now?”
Thoreau’s transformation was not less compelling than Piggy’s. His hands fell to his sides and his mouth fell open. “What just happened?” he said, comically bewildered.
Piggy shrugged, gave a little wriggle, and the electricity slid off her zaftig figure and faded away. “I just hadn’t put on my Rizzo yet,” she said simply. “I was saving for when I’m actually on camera or on stage.”


[Mabel] The tone had changed from “She did” to “She ought to", and that was countered by those who insisted “He’d be better off” and “What a heartless hussy she turned out to be!” The twit-wars had started in earnest, and had been raging most of the afternoon. Mabel sighed and hoped things tonight would right things all around, but you never knew which way the tide of celebrity would wash.


As if on cue, Beaker put his hands in the pockets of the coat and began to receive an electric shock. Smoke began to pour out of his ears and the neck of his shirt.
“I can’t imagine—oh! Oh, Beakie! I remember! There was a loose wire in one of the pockets….”


"I am a real reporter," Scribbler corrected. "And one day, I’ll work for a real newspaper again."


Michael looked over at Scooter with a comical expression. “My dear fellow—congratulations on swindling this lovely young lady into agreeing to marry you.”
“It took some fast talking,” Scooter admitted, “but I finally wore her down with begging and groveling.”

[the turkey] The Linguini brothers had brought their cousins, the sizzling Pastrami sisters…whoa!
Man—award night was even better than tailgating!


“Wow—look at you two!” Gina said, a wide grin on her face. Sara smiled and gestured at the dream dress.
“Courtesy of Thoreau,” she said, smiling. “Piggy’s cast-offs and the pity of a brilliant mind. You look pretty amazing yourself,” she said, eyeing Gina’s multi-colored, multi-layered, scarf-tail skirt and the sheer black silk blouse worn over a black strapless sequined camisole. She had a necklace of colorful gemstones against her slim neck, and large golden hoop earrings with gemstones glistening in the curve of the hoop. Her fiery red hair had been swept back into a sleek French twist.
“Courtesy of Goodwill,” she said, smirking. “Although the stockings are new.” She flashed a pair of well-turned---and well-turned-out—ankles, shown to advantage in a pair of the new, strappy heels. Beside her, the Newsman looked very distinguished in his exceptionally conservative tux, and his broad shoulders were nicely set off by Gina’s colorful and stylish figure on his arm.
“I think we’ve officially reached ginger saturation,” Scooter said dryly, and they all grinned at each other. Four very different shades of red hair, all moussed and sleeked and curled, nodded sagely.

...luckily Rhonda had dressed well enough for both of them` Everything about her dress was wonderful, from the full fuchsia satin skirt to the matching feather boa to the purse and heels that complemented her outfit perfectly. Her hair was up, with little fuchsia feathers tucked here and there among the curls, and her little claws were tipped with a slightly darker shade than her dress.
...“Eh, Buildabear,” said Rhonda. “I figured nobody else would be wearing them—or this color.”
“Not like you, darling,” said Gina. “You look awesome.” She put her hands on Newsie’s shoulders and pushed him forward. “How about my Honey?” she asked.
“He’ll do,” said Rhonda. “Hey, Goldie—whatsamatter? They didn’t have any plaid tuxes?”
“They did,” Newsie mumbled, “but I didn’t like the fit. I think it’s for a younger crowd—“
“I managed to wrestle him into this,” said Gina, “and later I’m going to—“
“Wow!” said Newsie, suddenly and loudly. “It’s got to be almost time for your interview with Piggy—right, Kermit?”

Kermit had seen more than one respected journalist melt into a puddle of goo at Piggy’s feet, so if some of that goo got into the story, well…he tried to be understanding. From the moment they’d started dating, reporters had hounded them—some of them actual hounds—and he had done his best to stand up under the onslaught. He and Piggy had never quite seen eye-to-eye on how much publicity was enough, but they had not agreed on a lot of things.
Whew...okay...trying a new response technique here to save scrolling time!

Stuff I enjoyed muchly:
-- Fozzie & Kermit before the show: I could actually HEAR the drum rimshot. Touching and funny.
-- Scribbler rationalizing his terrible life choices to himself. I don't think it's ever even occurred to him to wrest himself away from the BigUggyMediaTyrant and throw himself on the mercy of the Muppets, who tend to be a bit angelic in that regard...you KNOW he'd be given a chance...if he proved sincere, Newsie might even HELP him get a REAL job with an actual NEWS outlet...poor deluded soul.
-- The "supply closet" joke has already been run with here. I still giggled at it. :smile:
-- Sara's dress: the corset gag from "Pirates of the Caribbean" comes to mind!
-- Rowlf seems to have a few things in common with Lewis... His assessment of K&P is dead-on. Love the "bulbous eyes" bit.
-- Piggy's nekkidthoughts...LOL. And Piggy "putting on Rizzo" much like Norma Jean "put on" Marilyn: perfect! Nice analogy!
-- HotTamole's wry observation on "twits" is correct. This is why I pay no attention to the morons behind the phonecurtain...
-- BZZT! :eek: MEEEE! meemeemeemeemee! Yep. Had to be done.
-- Scribbler...not doing this crap you won't. Not ever, buddy. Wise up.
--Michael Caine and Scooter trading quips? Lovely, lovey!
-- Pastrami sisters! LOL
-- loved your take on Gina & Newsie. Your fashion sense is sharp and I love watching you play with "my" characters! Also, "ginger saturation" is hilarious. :news:
-- "Buildabear", "plaid tuxes for a younger crowd"...ROFL.
-- gooey journalists. Yep. Good thing Newsie's more wary of karate chops than he ever was smitten with porcine beauty. Poor man has enough to worry about.

More as I'm able...whew...you're writing me under the table, chica!
---------------
 

Ruahnna

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Thank you for all the nice comments and reviews. My fervid imagination is working overtime on what comes next. Thank you for feeding the beast.
 

Muppetfan44

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Chapter 140, part 2 was full of so much suspense and gooey-gushiness that it totally deserves a review by yours truly:

“Go when you need to,” Piggy said, trying to look patient even if she didn’t feel patient. “Once I am talking to Kermie….” She did not complete her sentence. She did not have to. Once she was talking to Kermie, everything else in the world would cease to matter.
awwww! I'm so glad that she finally gets to see her frog!

Kermit sighed and rubbed the aching spot between his eyes. Why, oh, why couldn’t he just get out here in front of the camera and act for goodness sake? And why, he demanded of himself, was it so hard to act like he missed Piggy and wanted desperately to connect with her. Fozzie’s words ran through his head and, instead of waving them away in irritation, Kermit stopped and thought about them. He didn’t want to appear uninterested—he was already battling the impression that Piggy’s absence had left him “free” to do whatever he wanted, when all he really wanted was to finish the movie and go and be with her. But he didn’t want to appear desperate and despondent because she was gone. That would imply he didn’t think she was coming back, or that he couldn’t function without her. Thinking that, Kermit reached for his bowtie again, certain it must be crooked. It was, and Kermit felt a pang of unhappiness and resentment. Piggy always tied his bowtie correctly, and it was her fault he was…whoa
definitely a quandry for Kermit here- just be honest green stuff!! An extra declaration of love and longing for your girl doesn't hurt...and ooh finally some of the resentment of her leaving comes out... love the emotional roller coaster here

He wasn’t mad—he was…he was lonely. And lost. And in need of his pig to make everything okay. But everything was going to be okay when he saw her. Everything was going to be great when they could see each other and talk to each other and it would all be fine. Kermit felt a peace wash over him that he’d not been able to access before, and turned to face the young reporter calmly.
you are the master of the awwww moment, no doubt about it- no teddy bears or cute fluffy bunnies needed here...

Before he could even say “Hi-ho”, she had bent over (very unwise, in his opinion) and swept him up in a full body hug and a cloud of perfume. “Kermit!” she cried, as though they were long-lost friends, and proceeded to plant a kiss over one of his aural organs, leaving a bright red lipstick smear. Hastily, Kermit disengaged and tried to step back, hoping to deter her—or at least learn her name.
Oh no she didn't?!!! Who does this girl think she is?! Could she have possibly been paid off by someone who wants to make Kermit look bad on camera...I wonder...

“I, um, don’t believe we’ve been introduced, um…Miss?”
“Oooh! Ms. Kardashian!” cried his hostess. “How nice to see you! I’m talking to Kermit the Frog now—“
“I know,” the woman gushed. “And I am such a fan! I watch him all the time on Sesame Street!” There was another huge smile for the camera and what appeared to Kermit’s practiced aural organ to be a pause for applause. It took all of his effort not to scrunch up his face in annoyance, but he was determined to be good-natured in front of the cameras, which were still rolling, if not live.
I knew I didn't like her...this just seals the deal!

“We’re, um, sort of in the middle of something here, Ms., er, Kardashian,” said Kermit stiffly. “If you could wait over there—“ He pointed vaguely with his right arm. “—until we’re done….” He smiled his polite, firm, I’m-the-director-and-that’s-final smile and registered the surprise and poorly-concealed indignation and fury on the woman’s face.
“How dare you!” she huffed. “You obviously have no idea who I am!”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” said Kermit, and felt as much as heard the crowd nearest them draw back in shock and horror.
Way to go Kermit!!

“But—but, oh, Ms. Kardashian!” BrandeE pleaded. “I would much rather interview you than—oh! Thank you! Thank you for waiting!” There were sounds of approval, and some of outrage, from the throng of people now pressing close.
Ms. Kardashian had stopped walking away, but it had nothing to do with the reporter’s pleading. She pulled up short, and at the same moment Kermit felt like his arm was about to be pulled from its socket. He heard the woman say “Oh!” and then there was another wrench that pulled him practically off his flippers.
“Ah! Ow! Hey—wait a minute!” Kermit gasped. As the young woman turned to face him, he was slung around to her side, and they both stared down in horror to find that his cufflink—the beautiful, intricate, amethyst cufflink in the shape of a dragonfly—was firmly enmeshed in the little strings of beads on her dress. His wrist was firmly attached to what was—very obviously—not her waist. They gaped at each other.
Oh no YOU didn't Ru!!! oh man, poor Kermit. You really know how to torture the green one...oh this is bad...really bad!

“It’s a cufflink!” Kermit almost shouted. There were laughs and a few ribald comments.
“That’s what they all say!” someone shouted, and Kermit felt his cheeks flame with color. He was mortified by the crowd, but it was nothing to the mortification he was going to feel if they went live with New York and he was stuck here with his arm around this young woman’s, um, dress. If heoccasionally battled the green-eyed monster, Piggy had made a house-pet of it. He had been careful to have very few occasions to incite her jealousy, but he did not think expecting to have an intimate little conversation with him on camera only to find his arm around another actress was going to do anything to improve his miserable condition.“I didn’t ask you to put your hand on my—““I did not ask you to barge in on my interview!” Kermit snapped, and there was a crowd reaction that felt ugly to him. Children’s entertainers were often held to a higher standard, and although he had not done children’s work in years, he could see that many were surprised that he had raised his voice but he couldn’t care about it right now. “I am supposed to be talking to my wife right now.”“That’s what they all say!” the woman smirked, and Kermit looked up at her with such a look of disdain and indignation that she shrank back—or tried to. When she moved, he moved, and there was nothing they could do about it.
“My wife,” Kermit gritted, “is the only woman I have any interest in. She is waiting for me right now, and I have been—“
Oh poor Kermit!! But way to go on defending your love for Piggy to miss can't-mind-her-own-business Kardashian here!

“I don’t know much about ladies clothes,” Scooter admitted. “What else is there to do?” He had very little experience with women’s clothing, and was flustered to the point of panic. Kermit had quite a bit more experience with fastenings and closures and tried to think of something that would help them now. Nothing sprang to mind, and Kermit thought dourly that with all the money he’d spent on dresses over the years…oh!
“I’ll replace your dress,” Kermit cried. “Just let them cut the beading loose and I’ll buy you a newdress.”They could hear BrandeE doing the intro again, welcoming the television audience to the Academy Awards. “….Vargas coming to you live from the Academy Awards. We’re scheduled to go live here in just a few moments with, um, Kermit the Frog and his wife, star of stage and screen, Miss Piggy. Miss Piggy—are you there?”The woman attached to Kermit’s wrist turned and surveyed the frog’s wholesome expression, and her own became cunning. “What kind of dress?” she asked.“A classy one,” Kermit wheedled. “One that would make you look like…a lady,” he finished finally.“Moi is here!” Piggy said. She smiled into the camera and saw the interviewer. What she thought was, Where the heck is Kermit? Why isn’t he here?
At the sound of Piggy’s voice, Kermit’s head snapped around. Piggy…!
oooh, so much tension! Good thinking on Kermit's part and yes, a dress that would make her look like a lady..great one by the frog! Poor Piggy is in a panic..ooh Ru stop putting them both through the ringer!!!

He grabbed Kermit’s shoulder and pushed him through the crack in the partition so that only his right side was visible. The camera turned and Kermit made an appearance on the screen, but his left arm did not. It was twisted behind him painfully, but that hardly mattered.
“Kermie!” Piggy cried. “Oh, Mon Capitan!”“Hello Piggy,” said Kermit, and tried to smile. It wasn’t hard. Piggy's familiar face and figure filled the screen. She looked wonderful, all smiles and blushes—and no wonder! Her pedal-pushers hugged her curves and her sweater set did nothing but enhance what her creator had endowed her with.“Wow,” said Kermit. “Look at you, Piggy! You look terrific. Wow! That’s—that’s some get-up!”“Well,” said Piggy coyly. “It’s to remind everyone to get up here and see me in Grease! Vous too, Kermie.” She bit her lower lip playfully.“Oh—I can hardly wait!” Kermit said. It was coming back to him. He was remembering what they’d talked about, what they’d planned to talk about. “So, how is Broadway treating you, Piggy?”“Yes, tell us!” said BrandeE, whose role had shifted from being ornamental and useless to being simply extraneous.“Broadway has been very sweet to Moi,” said Piggy. She was pulling out all the stops, every look and gesture designed to please, but Kermit seemed distracted. He was talking to her and looking ather, but something was off. Why was Kermit distracted? What on earth could he have on his mindnow? Was something wrong? Was there a problem with the film? And he was standing all bunched up, like he was in pain. She wanted him to look at her, not in her general direction.“Moi’s shows have been sold out and everyone in the cast has been wonderful. Mr. Lowry has made sure that everything is just right for Moi behind the scenes.”Piggy was looking at him funny. What did she mean, behind the scenes? Was she trying to tell him something? Was she mad about Bobo? She looked worried. Was something wrong?“Well, everything is great here except I’m here and you’re there,” Kermit said. Piggy melted.“Oooh….”
“There you have it folks. We’ll be back in a moment to talk some more with Kermit and Miss Piggy about their upcoming movie.”
Oh Piggy please don't worry!!!! this is killing me...killing me!!

The second BrandeE signed off, Howard and Thoreau rushed their favorite sow, who looked bewildered to the point of tears.
“Did you see?” Piggy said. “He didn’t—he didn’t even…something must be wr-wrong.”“It wasn’t that bad,” said Thoreau, fingers crossed behind his back, but Howard just snorted.“I don’t know what was going on on that end, but everything was wonderful on our end. Maybe he’s just nervous,” Howard soothed.“I thought he’d be glad to see Moi! I thought he’d be all gushy and lovey-dovey.” She turned and glared at Thoreau. “You said he’d get distracted and forget his own name!”“Well, he seemed distracted,” Thoreau hedged, shooting a pleading look at Howard. Howard made soothing noises and patted Piggy.“He must be mad at me!” Piggy cried. “Over the meeting—“Thoreau gave her a warning sign, indicating the filming crew, and Piggy subsided. “He must be upset because of something Moi did or said or—““Live in fifteen seconds, Miss Piggy,” said the interviewer, hating to interrupt but needing to remind them of time. She had watched their nervous nattering with more than passing interest, and they subsided. Piggy wet her lips and took her place.Please let him be like I wanted him to be, sweet and smitten and mushy and—“Five-four-three-two-one—“
Piggy opened her eyes.
Ru...Ru!!!! I am begging you.....you're killing me..Poor Piggy, please let this nightmare be over...

Quick as a flash, Scribbler’s camera was up and he was clicking pictures as fast as he could. It was perfectly obvious what had happened—perfectly obvious that, far from trying to cozy up to another babe—Kermit and his assistant were trying desperately to disentangle him from the woman’s curvaceous form. The redheaded assistant shifted, and Scribbler got a clean shot of the problem—the cufflink, the beading on the dress, the bodacious backside which almost any male on the planet would have been happy to have been stuck next to…. But of course, Kermit wasn’t happy—he was miserable. He didn’t want to be plastered next to some starlet’s figure—he wanted to be on camera with Piggy. Scribbler took another shot, and another. Well, he thought savagely. Never mind what the frog wanted. Soon, when these pictures were posted, he’d want to be dead.
Which suited Scribbler just fine.
oh no.....not pictures....Scribbler's going to be dead because I'm going to kill him!

“Chief,” said Scooter worriedly. The second the camera had gone off the air, Kermit had been hauled back inside the partition. “We’re live again in fifteen seconds.”
“I don’t know—“ Kermit moaned. Thoreau could be temperamental. Kermit did not want to give his word and prove to be a liar, even under duress. The woman stamped her foot, jarring Kermit’s arm all the way up to his shoulder. “Thoreau or nothing, and you don’t want that camera to go live—trust me!” The threat implicit in her suggestive stance made Scooter back away nervously.“I don’t—““Ten seconds, Boss.”“Scooter, I can’t just—““Mr. The Frog, we’re live in Five-Four-Three--““Okay!!!” Kermit blurted.There was a sound of ripping fabric, a sharp yank to his arm and he was free, he was free, he was…he was outside the partition looking into Piggy’s eyes. Well, not exactly, but the dual cameras gave that illusion. He could see her, and she could see him, and that was more than wonderful, more than enough.“Hi Piggy,” Kermit said, and his bulbous eyes went all melty.Tremulously, Piggy smiled. Everything suddenly seemed right with the world. Kermit stepped forward—toward the camera—and took the microphone in both hands. “You look beautiful.” This is what she wanted. This was what she’d been waiting for all this time. Kermie, mon chere….“You said that,” Piggy giggled.
“I did, didn’t I?” said Kermit, smiling. “Well, it bears repeating. What would you like me to tell everyone about our movie?”
Whew! close one! I'm sure Thoreau will come through, insulting miss K during her whole fitting too! Thank Goodness, what a relief and the awww is back again!

Please let them have more mushy convo before they lose sight of each other again...you totally owe that to them Ru...:wink:

Mistress of suspense and bringer of awww as always! Excited to read more loving endearments that I'm sure you will write for them to tell each other..really, it's the least that you can do!

Please post more soon!
 

newsmanfan

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Chapter 140: It’s Not What It Looks Like (Part I)
Trying to catch up on critiques BEFORE you post like a mad Scribbler again! :wink:


Good thing Scribbler's camerathing is a raccoon. No one will ever be able to tell when he's hung over...

Watching Fleet jockey and jostle through the other bottom feeders was enjoyable, and up to this point I'm even still rooting for him (though that changes next segment, naturally). You've done a fabulous job at making him 3D and even sympathetic. Much fun to follow his, er, progress...if that's the right word...

:news: You mean regress.

:shifty: Recess? Pass. I prefer snack time.

Throughout this chapter I wanted to strangle BrandeE. Clearly your goal was to portray any/all of the emptyheaded leeches currently smiling out from any number of gossip shows. Perfectly - and annoyingly - portrayed! I kept hoping she'd experience a spinach-in-teeth or harido malfunction and my Golden Boy would gallantly step in...alas, alack... Bravo to Kermit for soldiering on despite the vast sucking black hole commanding the mic!

Gonzo's line about "not attracting attention" (and Rizzo's obligatory you-gotta-be-kiddin-me stare) had me laughing. Perfect! Polka-dot tux...ye gods...and I bet it's all DIFFERENT COLOR dots too...

Beaker haranguing Fleet, and Fleet counting on the audience not speaking Guineapig, is hysterical. You could even have gone overboard with this and had Beakie's eyeballs turn red, or his hair explode again, and it would have fit right in. Poor Bunsen! Too grateful for a bask in what he thinks is a spotlight to pay heed to genuine outrage! "...Where No One Was Hospitalized"...er...only because the closest to a hospital Beaker is likely to ever get is Veterinarian's...

Will tackle the Extreme Wardrobe Crisis next time! Enjoying the fracas muchly!
-------------
 

The Count

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*Bumping this backup topside, too bad I can no longer make threads 'sticky'.
:smile: That's the first thing to go on a frog. He loses his tongue's stickyness and he can no longer catch any flies.
Do you know where we can catch an update?
:smile: With that tongue? You'll never make it. But seriously, ask Aunt Ru, she should be back in a while or two.
Okay, I'll just wait by the ficway.
:smile: What's the ficway?
Oh, about 145 chapters worth.
:embarrassed: Aaaaah, that's funnnee.
 

The Count

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Given that the "Academy Awards" aretomorrow, it'd be nice if there were more of this fic posted soon. But we acknowledge Aunt Ru may be busy with other things, like another offshoot oneshot, so we'll waitfor her.
UD: Is that because you won't wait for Death? That seemed a bit rude to me, but if the boss doesn't mind...
You've been reading Emily Dickinson's poems again I take it. So... One lump or two.
UD: I'm not falling for that loathsome gag. *Drops sugar cubes into his tea instead.
 

Muppetfan44

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Any updates? Please post more soon so Kermit and Piggy can continue to see each other on screen!!
 

Ruahnna

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Chapter 141: Aftermath

On camera, it was all smiles and blushes and wonderful. Off-camera, it was a different story. Just beyond the field of vision of the all-seeing camera’s eye, there was a fierce battle going on, and it involved one angry agent, one annoyed boss, one outraged personal assistant and one not-so-innocent reporter.
“I don’t have to listen to you,” said BrandeE, her lovely makeup ruined by the ugly sneer on her face. “And I don’t have to listen to her agent. Who does he think he is, anyway?”
“That just shows what you don’t know,” Scooter said. His voice was polite but he felt like tackling this airheaded celebrity hound and wrestling the microphone away from her. “And who he is isn’t the point. The point is that Meredith promised—“
"Well, Meredith isn’t here,” said BrandeE primly, her mouth set in a satisfied smirk. “She’s home sick and I’m taking her place tonight, so you can just—“
“Your network is going to hear about this!” gritted Scooter. His cheeks were mottled with the heat of his indignation. “Once Marty talks to your boss, you won’t—“
Let him,” BrandeE said. Insolently, she fluffed her hair and her cleavage, dismissing him. “By tomorrow morning, I’ll be—“
“BrandeE?” said one of her tech people.
What?!” she snarled. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
She was not busy. Pig and Frog were completely engrossed in each other, and the viewing public was completely engrossed in their talk about their upcoming movie, how exciting it was that Piggy was on Broadway and the way that her costume was showcasing her curves. There was nothing for the network to do but roll film and watch the ratings go up.
It would be hard for most actresses to rock the red carpet wearing trashy pedal pushers, but somehow, Piggy was managing. And while 40 million viewers at home could see what Kermit saw, they could also see the bright, warning gleam of jealousy in his eyes. Piggy’s alternating sass and bashfulness in the face of his consternation brought a flush to her cheeks, and a smile to many faces in the viewing audience. Women thought Piggy had a right to wear what she chose—especially in her line of work—but Kermit’s unspoken declaration of “Mine, mine, mine—so back off,” was charming. He wasn’t yelling or making a scene or anything, but it was obvious that he’d have much preferred Piggy on his arm in a designer gown than backstage looking like a delectable pastry. Men thought Piggy had a right to wear what she chose—especially since she chose to wear this—but Piggy’s unvoiced declaration of “Yours, all yours, Kermie,” was doing a lot to make the men at home sigh and be glad their wives or girlfriends had roped them into watching the awards show. They could understand Kermit’s well-tamped grumpiness even while appreciating the porcine pulchritude that was on display.
“Um, phone for you,” said the tech guy meekly. “It’s from the office—“
BrandeE snatched the phone away. “Yes?” she said, smiling to make her voice sound friendly, although there was an impatient tone in her voice. “This is BrandeE Varg—“
She cut off in mid-sentence, one hand going to her throat.
“Yes,” she said, sounding as breathless as she had when she’d first introduced Kermit. “But I—“
She cut off again, her eyes going wide, her mouth working stupidly while no sound came out. “But I was just—“
This time, Scooter and Sara could both hear the sound coming out of the phone, and BrandeE held it away from her ear, nodding and blinking.
“But there isn’t anyone else here,” she said, sounding petulant and tearful. There was another silence and she stopped and stared at the phone. After a moment, she handed the phone to Scooter, who managed not to drop it in his surprise.
“Um, hello?” he said. “This is Scooter Grosse, Mr. The Frog’s personal—what? I…well, um, yes. I’m sure we could—what?”
Listening, Sara felt like screaming in frustration. She had the same desire to wrench the phone away from Scooter that Scooter had had when wanting to wrench the microphone away from BrandeE, but she stood there, helplessly, beautifully, and clenched and unclenched her right hand into a fist. The other hand was still holding the small recording camera, still automatically trained on the action, and she glanced down at it just in time to see Scooter say, “I think I know how to make this work”, then he turned and smiled directly into her camera. The next thing her camera saw was Scooter’s hand reaching out to grasp it. Later, on the recording, you could see Scooter’s palm cover the lens, then pull away, and when he did, Sara was in the frame and Scooter was not.
“But,” Sara said, “but—“
“—and that’s when Piggy agreed to take the role,” Kermit was saying. He turned back to BrandeE, having almost forgotten that she was even there, but she wasn’t there—Sara was—instead. They looked at each other, then Kermit’s grin grew wide and almost reckless and he stood there beaming at her, ready for anything she might ask.
“What a wonderful story, Mr. The Frog,” said Sara smoothly, looking into the camera. “It must have been awfully hard to let Miss Piggy go…to Broadway, I mean.”
It was a lovely set-up, and Kermit spiked it—hard. “Oh, I’m not letting her go—not a chance,” Kermit said, grinning and shaking his head. “I’m just letting Broadway borrow my girl for a bit—that’s all!”
“Oh, Kermie!” Piggy said. “Vous are so silly.”
“And busy, I’ll wager,” Sara interposed. Might as well get all their licks in at once. “I heard you say the movie is slated for a summer release—isn’t that right?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Piggy said, stepping in deftly. This was something they did awfully well—fielding each other's questions to defuse uncomfortable answers. The press had never allowed them the luxury of not being asked to comment on each other and their couplehood, so Kermit and Piggy had honed their cross-patter to a fine edge. “Our movie was originally slated to come out right before school started,” Piggy said, emphasizing her schoolgirl allure. “But summer needed a blockbuster and Kermie is so clever than he agreed to have the movie ready in time.”
“That keeps your schedule pretty tight, doesn’t it, Kermit?” Sara said, sounding concerned. “In fact, you weren’t able to go and see her Broadway debut.”
Kermit looked down, then looked up. “It just about killed me to miss it,” Kermit said simply, “but it’s important to keep your word, especially in this business. I want the fans to know they can count on us.” He looked at Piggy and smiled. “Piggy understands—she’s a trooper, aren’t you, Honey?”
“Moi was able to soldier on,” Piggy said modestly, then looked at Sara with a mischievous expression. “And the sooner my frog is done with the movie, the sooner my frog can come and see me!” she sing-songed, and her expression said she had very definite plans for him when he got there. It was Kermit’s turn to blush and stub his little webbed toes in the ground. Hands in his pockets (a fashion no-no, but a photographic yes-yes), sheepish grin on his face, face flushed with pleasure—Kermit had never looked more gosh-darned adorable. The crowd, which had been murmuring behind their hands earlier while he dealt with the wardrobe-malfunction-from-heck were now nodding and smiling in a friendlier manner. A few of the young, hunky up-and-comers looked at him, envying him his calm (and his pig) while their dates looked at him approvingly.
Kermit looked at Sara, knowing she would not sabotage him, and made a little sound to indicate frustration and pride. “And Broadway just couldn’t wait to have her.” He smiled, looking at Piggy. “Everything worked out very nicely for her to be there while I’m so busy.” He looked at Sara. “She’s sold out—did she tell you? The show is sold out through her run!”
“And in record time!” Sara said. “I’m sure you’re very proud. So Piggy, what advice do you have for Kermit when he goes to present the award by himself tonight? Anything you’d tell him if you were here?”
“Don’t hog the mike,” Piggy quipped and Kermit grinned and shook his head. Piggy giggled, then sobered. “Actually, Moi would say, "Don’t share the mike"—with anyone!” Piggy said. “If you can’t have Moi—just say "No!"”
“There you have it,” Sara said. “Fans are "just saying yes" to Grease! and Rainbow Productions is saying yes to another summer blockbuster, I’m sure.”
“Well, thank you,” Kermit said modestly. “You are too kind.”
“Vous are so right! Kissy kissy! Moi must get ready to go on!”
Sara faced the camera. “This is Sara Vines with—“ Panicky, she looked to Scooter, but he was holding up signs scrawled hastily with a sharpie marker. “—with CBS, on loan from Outrageous Communications, bringing you news from one of America’s celebrity couples, Kermit the Frog and Mrs. The Frog, Miss Piggy. Back in a moment with more awards coverage….”

The red light on the camera went dark, and Sara took a deep breath that would have threatened the integrity of the gown she wore if Thoreau had exercised less attention to detail. She exhaled slowly, feeling her heart racing, but when she turned she saw the camera crew nodding sagely, politely, letting her know it had been okay, had been fine.
Kermit was less formal, and less restrained. He leaned forward and gave Sara a brief but intense half hug.
Thank you,” he murmured near her shoulder. “You saved my life there.” Then he was moving off, talking to the camera crew himself—thanking them for their assistance—and then consulting with Scooter. Sara watched them, heads bent together and she saw both of them talking to the screen now that the cameras weren’t rolling. Sara drifted forward and took her camera from Scooter, smiling when she realized it was still recording. She saw Piggy on the camera crew's big screen, but although they could see her, it was obvious she could only hear them now.
“—wonderful,” Kermit was saying.
“Miss Piggy,” Scooter jumped in. “I’m sorry the first part was all messed up—we were having, um, having—“
“—technical difficulties!” Kermit blurted. Scooter looked at him and there was a whole unspoken conversation going on there, with Scooter nodding and gesturing emphatically and Kermit resisting stubbornly, shaking his head. Only when she was inches from both of them could Sara hear Kermit’s voice, so far below a whisper it was almost silent.
“—and then she’s got to go onstage in a little bit,” Kermit insisted. “I’ll talk to her after the awards. I just want to get through this and then—“
“What if she hears it from somebody else?!” Scooter gritted. “What if she sees it before—“
“Kermit? Kermie, mon frog—I must go! We are having an eensy-weensy little meeting about the new guest star for the beauty school song and I—one moment, Mon Capitan,” she said sweetly. They saw her put one satin-gloved hand over the mic. “Knock it off!” she yelled, and Kermit and Scooter both grinned in spite of themselves as several people backstage—including whoever was operating the camera—jumped. “I must leave you now, Kermie. You must do a wonderful job presenting the award without Moi—“ Here, Piggy’s eyes grew suspiciously wet, and she held her breath and waited for her voice to return to normal, apparently unaware that they could still see her. Kermit felt like someone had punched him in the chest as he watched her pull herself together, then answer in a convincingly cheery sing-song. “Moi will be onstage but when vous are done and Moi is done I want to hear all about everyone and everything,” she said.
“Sweetie, just call me as soon as your show is over,” Kermit said, “and I’ll tell you all about who I saw and what they won and…everything.”
“And what they are wearing—or not,” Piggy giggled, and Kermit flinched.
“Oh, ha ha, sure thing, Honey. You call me, okay? As soon as you’re off stage, okay?” Scooter made rolling gestures with his hand, partially mollified. “Don’t wait until you get back to your apartment—I want to tell you everything as soon as you’re free, okay?”
“Yes, Kermie,” Piggy said, the picture of docility, even if she didn’t know he could see her. Kermit and Scooter and Sara saw a big, well-built fellow with red-gold hair gesture frantically toward the stage, and Piggy waved him on irritably. “Moi will call you. Love you, Mon Capitan,” she said, and Kermit felt the impact like a tidal wave, knocking him back and pulling at his feet, threatening his balance.
“Love you,” Kermit said softly. “Bye Piggy.”
She walked out of camera range, and Kermit looked away, trying to master his expression before he made eye contact with anyone. Scooter and Sara traded looks, and Sara reached out to touch her fiancé’s shoulder. She thought Scooter was right—Kermit should tell Piggy what had happened now, but she could understand why Scooter didn’t want to argue with Kermit when he was obviously struggling to compose himself. She looked at Scooter, then stretched forward impulsively and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, glad to be at his side—even here and wearing a truss.
“Marty cleared everything with my editor?” She didn’t really doubt it—she just wanted to fill the silence so Kermit could have a little privacy.
Scooter grinned. “Marty cleared everything with everybody,” he said. “It’s all good, now.”
Sara looked in the direction BrandeE had last been seen, waving her hands at her mascara to keep it from running. “Everybody?”
Scooter’s reply was mild. “Everybody who matters,” he said.
Kermit joined them, subdued but composed. “Thank goodness that’s over,” he said simply. “Let’s go on in and see if we can find our seats.” Scooter knew he would check in to the green room as well, wanting to have an idea of where to go and what to expect later.
“Fine by me,” said Scooter. He’d already had more excitement tonight than he wanted. He turned and proffered his arm. Smiling, Sara took it, slipping her hands beneath his elbow, and they made their way inside.

Howard and Thoreau slipped into their seats at the last possible moment, and let out identical breaths, then smiled and tried to keep from giggling. Piggy had been absolutely right—once Kermit had come back on, normal and back to himself—she had forgotten they even existed.
“Which is as it should be,” Thoreau had insisted in the cab. “Piggy doesn’t just deserve to be adored—she needs to be.”
Mr. Finkel had caught Thoreau’s eye in the rear-view mirror and nodded.
“Well, Kermit’s pretty good at that when he applies himself,” Howard had admitted. “Wonder what on earth was going on before—nerves?”
“I guess he was just rattled at having to do the carpet by himself,” Thoreau had said. “You’d be surprised how many performers get rattled at having to walk the red carpet.”
“I suppose so,” Howard said. “But all’s well that ends well, right?”
“Sure,” said Thoreau. “Let’s go with that.”

“Gee, Tiger,” Gina teased. “You are a hot commodity tonight!”
Newsie blushed from the tip of his sharp nose to the roots of his russet hair, and Gina would swear later that his glasses fogged up.
“Gina,” he murmured, eying the camera sloth. “I’m…I’m working.”
“You got that right, Goldie,” said Rhonda. “Good stuff that was. And that fluff piece with Fozzie is gonna be nice filler. You sure think fast on your feet.”
“And off them,” said Gina airily, a sly smile on her face. The Newsman was mortified and cast an anxious look toward Tony, but the camera sloth saved his grin until the anxious reporter looked back toward Rhonda.
“You think it went okay?” he asked. “It was a little irregular….”
“Irregular, he says,” quipped Rhonda. “What a hoot. This whole place is a circus, so irregular is the special of the day. But I don’t see what’s so odd about you two interviewing each other—you are the resident expert on Muppet news, ain’tcha?”
“Well,” said The Newsman. “That is true.”
“And his network was supposed to be interviewing the top frog and hog—“
The Newsman startled and looked around nervously. “I don’t think you should refer to Kermit and Miss Piggy that way,” he said stiffly.
“What—you think they’ll fire you?” Rhonda scoffed.
The Newsman shook his head. “I think she’ll kill me,” he said firmly.
“Fine,” Rhonda huffed. “Keep your shorts on. Anyway, I thought your piece with Brian Williams was good. He got info for his network, we got a good interview for our network—it’s all good.”
“I didn’t really know much about what happened.”
“The Kardashians make news doing nothing all the time,” Rhonda snorted. “Her getting all up in Kermit’s grill was as close to a plotline as you’re likely to see.”
The Newsman was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I don’t think Kermit actually has a grill,” he began. “He doesn’t have any teeth—“
“Oh for the love of Mike Wallace,” Rhonda groaned. “It’s just an expression. What I meant was that you guys did fine deflecting all the hoopla away from Kermit’s wardrobe malfunction and onto his reunion with the---“
“Rhonda!” Newsie cried, certain that—somehow—Miss Piggy would know if they spoke disrespectfully.
“Okay, okay. His reunion with his Sweetie.” She looked at him and her lipsticked mouth twisted into a wry smile. “That make you feel better?”
“That was better,” Newsie said primly. “And you really thought our back-and-forth interview was good? I don’t want to be too cutesy—“
Rhonda slapped a hand over her eyes, but Gina interposed skillfully before the fashionable rat could rant.
“Too late,” Gina teased, one arm around Newsie’s shoulder. “You’re cute as a button on Walter Cronkite’s suit!” She turned him deftly back toward the crowd, but her eyes were on Rhonda. “Want us to mingle around and look for stories?”
“Sounds good,” said Rhonda. “If you catch anything good, holler!”

Sweet mercy, he was shaking. He was actually shaking with…disbelief or horror or glee or some combination of the three. He stared at the camera in his hands as though afraid it might transform into a snake and bite him.
“What d’ja get?” Scoop asked. “What was happening in there?”
Fleet shook his head to clear it. “They were…he was….” He shook his head again, trying to clear it.
“What?” asked Hurley. “They were what? Kissing? Hitting?”
Scoop gave Hurley an annoyed look, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“No!” Scribbler said, then, “I mean—“ He seemed to come back to himself. “I mean, they were back behind the screen , and he had, um, his arm, er, around her, and they were, you know, talking about her dress.”
“Talking? Sounded like they were arguing,” said Hurley, looking interested.
“Wouldn’t you argue if your girlfriend showed up at the awards ceremony when you were supposed to be seen with your wife?” Fleet said. The narrative was blooming in his mind like an explosion—his boss was going to be ecstatic!—and he averted his eyes lest they see the lie written on his face.
“Huh. So that’s what happened,” said Hurley, who seemed too cynical to be surprised. “Wonder how many guys here tonight that happened to?”
“His girlfriend?” said Scoop doubtfully. “Kermit and what’s-her-face are an item? That’s one I haven’t seen.”
“I think it burst onto the public consciousness tonight,” Scribbler said, thinking of the torn dress and wondering idly if lightning would strike him. It was obvious from their comments that they had no idea of what had really happened. Scoop seemed unconvinced, but Hurley seemed all-too-ready to believe that Kermit’s interaction with the bodacious babe had a more carnal explanation. And, Scribbler’s mind prompted, it wasn’t like his readership now was all that discerning. If it walked like a frog….
Hurley was already making notes on his phone, obviously hashing out his own version of the story, reminding Scribbler that news goes from fresh to stale in very short order, but Scoop was looking increasingly unhappy. “If this was a lover’s spat,” Scoop demanded, “then how come his assistant was back behind the screen with them?”
Scribbler waved this question away as though it were smoke. “You know how it is,” he said casually. “All the big-time producers have assistants that do more than run their business—they have to help with image patrol, too—right?”
“Yeah,” said Hurley without even looking up. “So, you’re saying that the red-head went back there and talked them both down in time for Kermit to come out and play patty-cake with the wife—that about it?”
Scribbler hadn’t said that, but it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t. He managed to nod vaguely. “Something like that,” he mumbled.
Scoop was now looking at him askance—not at all sure what to think—but Scribbler tried to stick to his guns and put his stamp on what had happened. He felt a sharp nudge in the vicinity of his kidneys—something that might be his conscience—but he did his best to pretend it was indigestion and ignore it. He had promised Missy that he wouldn’t lie, but the ugly truth (or at least the part of it he was planning on telling) was proving very convenient.
His camera raccoon came up to him, looking interested, and Scribbler grinned at him. “Give me a moment to get this down and send it off,” he said, working on his handheld. He’d rather have had his notebook, but there wasn’t time for it tonight—he needed to get the story, or at least his version of it, out before someone else did. He looked over his shoulder and was glad to see Hurley talking to a cable network series regular—not quite a star, but plenty luminous to keep Hurley busy for a few moments. He also saw Scoop staring after him with a troubled expression, and he tried really hard not to feel like a louse. Mentally, he replaced Scoop’s face with Harve’s friendly, open countenance, and wondered if he and Gladys were cozied up to the dinky little tv in his apartment hoping to see him tonight.
He was doing this for them, too, his brain argued. If he didn’t get something for the boss—something good (or bad, depending on your point of view—then he wasn’t going back to New York. The thought of New York kicked what was left of his scruples to the curb and his expression grew grim. He had to get back to New York, where Missy was, because somebody had to look after her. New York was a dangerous place, and he didn’t like the thought of her up there alone, unprotected.
She’s got the bear now, Scribbler remembered, and it made him feel somewhat better, but not much. He was not sure what it said about him, but he knew something about the way a solitary, determined individual could winnow their way in, could get close to a subject—and it made him decidedly uneasy. His uneasiness and his conscience were making his stomach roil, but he gritted his teeth and did what he had to do.
I have to, he told himself, and hoped against hope that Missy would believe him.
 
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