Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Next Day
June 16, 1975
“No, he is not interested. He is not
going to be interested. He never was interested, and I’m sure he never will be. No, you should not call back. Goodbye.” Jim hung up the phone, turned his head, and was surprised to see someone standing there. “Kermit!”
“Hi Jim.” Kermit came into the office and sat down. “What was that about?”
Jim rubbed his temples. “A man named… Doc something… Jumper, Leaper… Hopper, that’s it. Doc Hopper. He keeps calling, wants to know if you’ll do commercials for his frog leg restaurants.”
“Yich!” Kermit made a face.
“Exactly. Aren’t you on vacation?”
“Oh well I was, but I want to show you something.” Kermit pulled out a newspaper and opened it to a marked page. “You see there was this agent guy in the swamp yesterday, and he showed this to me…”
“
Open auditions for Frogs,” Jim read aloud. “And you’re interested?”
“Well- yeah,” Kermit said. “I sort of figured that- well, I mean- I could put in a good word for the company, and- well… We
have been trying to get a show…”
Jim smiled and handed the newspaper back to him. “I’ll tell you what, Kermit,” he said. “We’re working on getting a spot in this new comedy variety show, but that’s for all new characters. So in the mean time, you go to Hollywood. We’ll follow you.”
Kermit hesitated. “You mean-
I’ll lead the way to Hollywood?”
Jim nodded. “You’re ready.”
Kermit let it sink in slowly as a smile crept onto his face. “Thanks, Jim.” He stood up to go.
“Kermit?” Jim rested his hands behind his head. “What made you change your mind?”
Kermit hesitated. He knew what Jim meant- what made him change his mind about wanting to do a show? “That agent, Bernie- he said I could make millions of people happy. And I want to.”
Jim nodded. “You will.”
Kermit smiled. “You know what, Jim?” he said. “So will you.”
Jim smiled back at him. “We’ll do it together,” he said.
Kermit could feel his grin growing. “Together,” he repeated. “I’ll see you in Hollywood, Jim.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Two Days Later
June 18, 1975
Kermit huffed and puffed as he slowed to a stop on the side of a dark street. “Sheesh,” he said. “What in the world made me think I could make this trip on a
bicycle?” He shook his head and looked at the nearest place that smelled like food. “The El Sleezo Café,” he read on the sign. “It doesn’t smell promising, but a frog’s gotta eat.” So he went inside.
He was immediately surrounded by the most disgusting group of individuals he had ever seen. The sounds were worse than the sights, and the smells were twice as despicable. At this rate, he was afraid to imagine how the food might taste.
He turned his attention to the poor excuse of a stage. “Good grief,” he said, “The comedian’s a bear!”
If you could call him a comedian. The crowd had a different name for him- target. As in, the perfect place to throw a rotten tomato. He was being booed off the stage before he even got a chance. All things considered, he was taking it rather well.
“Oh, wait, please. Please wait. I’m trying so hard. Please don’t do that…”
Kermit made his way towards the stage. Saying please wouldn’t work with this crowd, even if they could have heard him over the boos. They needed to
see something.
“I’m a professional! I’ve had three performances! Please!”
Finally, he was close enough that the bear would hear him. “Do you know any
dance routines?” he asked urgently.
“What?” the bear asked as he dodged fruit. “Not really. Do you?”
Kermit turned to the rather bored looking piano player. “Play something snappy!” He hopped onto the stage, and the piano player played something. “Now dance!” He danced next to the bear, who followed as best as he could. The boos and fruit-throwing quickly subsided, though neither vanished completely, and before the song was over, they were gaining strength again. When the last note hit the air, the crowd surged towards the stage with grimy hands grabbing for them.
The bear grabbed Kermit’s arm and they ran back stage, through a dancing girl’s dressing room- “Sorry miss! Excuse us!”- and out the back door, stepping on and over rats, mice, cockroaches, and various other pests.
Safe at last, the bear groaned and sat against a mud-splattered wall in the alley. “They get worse every night!” he said as he took off his hat and wiped his sweat with the same hand. He looked gratefully at the frog. “Thanks for your help back there. Hey what’s your name?”
“Oh my name’s Kermit. Kermit the Frog,” Kermit said. “What’s yours?”
“Bear. Fozzie Bear.” He held out a hand for Kermit to shake. “What brings you to the El Sleezo? Probably not the food, right?”
“The comedian,” Kermit said.
Fozzie’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“No, but you looked like you could use a compliment,” Kermit said. “I’m actually on my way to Hollywood.”
“
Hollywood?” Fozzie repeated. “Big time show biz- that’s always been my dream!”
Kermit tilted his head to one side. “You wanna come along?” he said. “They’re holding auditions for frogs next week. Maybe they need bears too. And if they don’t, well, I know someone who will probably hire you.”
“You do?” Fozzie stood up excitedly. “Well then, let’s go! Um- how are you traveling?”
“Bicycle.”
Fozzie shifted his weight. “Bicycle, right…” He looked up. “Let’s take my Studebaker instead.”
“Oh, that’s much better!” Kermit happily followed him.
“You could do even
better with me,” a voice from behind them said.
They turned to see a slightly over-weight man in a white suit with a black bow tie and a white hat. “Who are you?” Kermit asked.
The man smiled and removed his hat. “I’m a business man with a proposition,” he said. “Kermit, my name is Doc Hopper, and I-“
“No thanks,” Kermit said. He turned to walk away. “Come on, Fozzie.”
“Yes sir!”
“Well now wait a minute, frog,” Hopper protested, but Kermit and Fozzie were already gone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Two Days Later
June 20, 1975
Two days of driving had not taken much of a toll yet on Kermit and Fozzie. Once Kermit had explained who Doc Hopper was, they filled the time on the road with songs, stories, and jokes- some of which were less intentional than others.
“Hey Fozzie,” Kermit said as they drove through the afternoon sun. “Look at that funny little truck parked by that billboard.”
“Yeah, look at that weird blue guy standing next to it,” Fozzie said.
“Hey, I know that guy,” Kermit said. “Wait a minute! That’s one of Doc Hopper’s billboards!”
“Kermit, that’s your face on it!”
“What?” It was, in fact, Kermit’s face on the billboard. They stopped in front of it, with Kermit staring out the window in horrified anger.
“Kermit!” The weird blue guy hurried to Kermit’s window. “Kermit, I’m glad you’re here! Do you remember me?”
“I- of course I remember you Gonzo. Fozzie, this is the Great Gonzo, Gonzo this is my friend Fozzie.”
“Friend…” Fozzie repeated quietly. Something inside him swelled.
“Nice to meet you,” Gonzo said quickly. “This is my girlfriend, Camilla.” He indicated a chicken at his side.
“Bawk bu-gawk,” she clucked, nodding her head politely.
“Oh, nice to meet you!” Kermit smiled at Gonzo.
“Kermit, you didn’t
wanna do this, did you?” Gonzo asked urgently, pointing at the billboard.
“I had nothing to do with it,” Kermit said defensively.
“Oh, good, because this guy I was talking to- oh.” Gonzo stopped talking, as Doc Hopper had appeared at his elbow.
He was smiling, thrilled with the billboard. “You got the picture, boy? You see what I mean? Kermit the Frog, symbol of Doc Hopper’s French fried frog legs! Isn’t that splendid? Just splendid! Just take a look at it.
Kermit glanced at it with disgusted horror. “All I can see are millions of frogs on tiny crutches,” he said. In fact, he saw much worse than that.
“Now listen boy,” Hopper said. “Don’t you wanna be
rich and
famous?”
“Not working for you, I don’t!” Kermit said.
“That’s right!” Fozzie chimed in.
“Crutches?” a man with a paintbrush and a green hat repeated.
“Shut up, Max!” Doc Hopper ordered. Max looked like he was about to lose his lunch.
“Crutches!” Gonzo repeated, looking straight at him.
“That’s right,” Kermit said, “And I don’t want anything to do with it, and I won’t have anything to do with it. The answer’s no, Doc. Fozzie, let’s get out of here.”
“Yes sir!” Fozzie pulled away.
Gonzo instantly grabbed onto the car, courtesy of the rolled-down window. He didn’t mind at all that the car was moving. “Pull over at the diner, a few miles down the road. Camilla and I will meet you there, and we’ll talk!” He jumped off the car with a “WHOOPIE!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Next Day
June 21, 1975
At the diner, they had agreed to travel together, as Gonzo also had a dream of going into show business. They had traded in Fozzie’s Studebaker and Gonzo’s truck, and gotten a station wagon. After sharing the road for twenty-four hours, they wanted to stretch their legs. Luckily, there was a county fair, and they decided it was the perfect place to do so.
They arrived just as the winner of the beauty pageant was being announced. “And here she is, folks. This year’s Miss Bogen County… Miss Piggy!”
The curtains flung open as the pig stepped forth. She tossed her silky blonde curls back with excitement as the sunlight glinted in her angelic blue eyes beneath thick eyelashes.
Kermit caught his breath. He did not realize he was staring.
There was a string of pearls around her neck, and her white dress showed her curves perfectly. She wore elbow-length purple gloves of silk that looked only marginally softer and smoother than her skin. She gracefully mounted the steps to the throne that awaited her and graciously accepted a royal-looking cape as two runners-up draped it around the curves of her shoulders. Then one of them lifted a crown and held it, halo-like above Miss Piggy for a moment before it gently rested on her head. She was thanking everyone.
“Kermit, you know-“
“Not- not right now, Fozzie.”
She was beautiful, she looked like an angel, she was absolutely gorgeous, she…
She was looking straight at him.
.
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