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Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by TogetherAgain, Dec 19, 2006.
Lisa, seeing that there is a new chapter on this story made my day go from decent to very good.
OMG, just caught up!
All I say to you is MORE!
I'm so happy to read an update in this story Lisa. It's still brilliant. Looking forward to more.
will never give up on this story...it's one of my favorites!
Please post more soon and if you could, a little ush gush between Kermit and his fiancee back home wouldn't hurt either!!
putting one of my favorite fics to the top of the list.
Hope you update soon!
Sadly, Lisa is last seen Jan 16, 2013.
Where is Lisa! WHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was the end of the day, and Chris was sweeping up Hooper’s Store, whistling to himself about the people in the neighborhood, when he saw a newspaper that someone had left on the floor. It was open to a page that had the headline SESAME’S FORESIGHT.
“Huh,” he said as he bent down to pick the paper up, thinking he would skim the article quickly. His intentions changed as soon as he saw the first sentence: Sesame Street made a wise decision years ago when they cut ties with Kermit the Frog.
Chris read the first paragraph of the article, and then the second. He gulped and stepped into a corner to keep reading, hoping no one would come into the store. He still hadn’t finished the article when he straightened up. “Alan? I think… we might have a problem,” he said nervously.
They skimmed the article together, and then they took action. “Let’s get everyone together. We need a meeting,” Alan said. Fortunately, it was late enough that everyone was about to close up, anyway, and it didn’t take much walking for Chris to either find or run into everyone he was looking for.
With the adults assembled in Hooper’s Store, they spread the newspaper out on the counter and gathered around to read the article together.
“Sesame Street clearly made an excellent judgment call,” Bob quietly, grimly read. “They must have seen years ago that Kermit was not the family-friendly frog he pretended to be, but a…” His voice trailed away, and he shook his head. “I can’t finish that sentence. I’m not saying that.”
“No,” Susan agreed, scarcely audible, and Gordon set his hand on her shoulder.
“They think that we think he’s a killer,” Maria said incredulously.
“He’s not,” Susan said firmly.
“Of course not,” Bob said. “But they think that we specifically… banned him from the Street, because we thought… They think that we think he’s a… a bad… person.”
“Which isn’t true!” Gordon said. “I mean, how they’re saying it is not what happened at all.”
“And we know that,” Chris said firmly, because he knew how much the people around him needed to know that someone knew that they cared about Kermit. “We just need to tell everyone that.”
The others all started to nod and try to think about how to tell everyone the truth, but Susan stopped and pressed her hands against the counter. “No… We can’t,” she said softly, and she looked around at everyone else. “We’ve all seen the news. We all know what the country thinks about this war, and how divided everyone is.” She shook her head. “If we announce that we support Kermit, the whole country will turn against us, too.”
A harsh silence settled over the store. Because it was true. It was painfully true.
“We can’t have the country turned against us,” Alan said quietly, reluctantly. “We can’t afford that. What we do is too important.” His shoulders slumped and his head dropped forward, because saying those words felt like taking a punch.
“Wait. They can’t…” Chris looked at his aunt and uncle. “They can’t take us off the air, can they?”
“It won’t matter, if people stop watching us,” Maria said, hugging herself tight. Luis wrapped an arm around her.
“And we’re not invincible, either,” Susan said. “If we’re on the wrong side of any controversy… And when it’s something this big… And—what people who support the war are being called, these days…” She shook her head. “We can’t risk it,” she whispered.
Bob stood over the open newspaper with his hands on either side of it, his head hanging low between his shoulders. He lifted his hand and pushed at the paper with a single finger. “So we have to let everyone think that this is true?” he said quietly, and then he straightened up and answered his own question. “No. We won’t.”
“But we can’t come out and say that we support killing children!” Gordon said.
“We don’t have to,” Bob said. “We don’t have to talk to anyone in public about any of this.” He firmly closed the newspaper and turned it over. “We just need to talk to Kermit.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Like the rest of his unit, Kermit was keeping a watchful eye on the sky, looking for the first sign of a delivery. They were holding still today, resting and waiting to receive the food and water they so desperately needed—and with those supplies, hopefully, would come letters from home.
Kermit was writing a letter while he waited. Geraldson and Larsen were both on computers, e-mailing their loved ones, and Holt was filming—well, digitally, anyway—a game of catch between Pine, Plank, Casper, and Emerson. Cogswell was sitting next to Kermit, carefully rubbing his shoulder and stretching it.
“Think we’ll get any painkillers this load?” Cogswell asked with a sigh.
Kermit looked up from his letter and gave his fellow Marine a sympathetic smile. “Probably,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll get any. That’s up to the Corporal in the med tent.”
Cogswell groaned and laid down on the ground. “I… really hate this shoulder.”
“Yup,” Kermit said. “Sounds about right.”
“At least you had meds.”
“At least you don’t have to fly with that shoulder,” Kermit countered. “With the pressure change? There wasn’t anything strong enough to take care of that kind of pain.”
“Yeah, but you got to go home,” Cogswell said softly, and he stared up at the sunny sky.
Kermit gave him a curious look. “You never talk about home,” he said. “You always just say how you want to see the country.”
“I want to see everything,” Cogswell murmured. “I want to see the Northern Lights. I want to see Mount Rushmore. And the Rockies. And the Empire State. I want to see the Golden Gate Bridge. I want to see the Sequoias. I want to see the Hollywood sign.”
“The Hollywood sign isn’t that great,” Kermit said.
Cogswell groaned. “C’mon, Frog. Let me have my delusions,” he said.
“Sorry,” Kermit said. “But it’s just a bunch of giant letters.”
“Alright, so what is worth seeing in LA?” Cogswell asked.
“The Muppet Theater,” Kermit said wistfully.
Cogswell turned his head to look at him. “I think you’re biased.”
“I still want to see the Hollywood sign.”
“Suit yourself. You should stop by the theater while you’re in town.”
Kermit chuckled. “Finish your stretches, Cogswell,” he said.
Cogswell groaned, mostly from pain, as he slowly pushed himself upright again. “Yes sir,” he muttered.
“Don’t call me sir,” Kermit said automatically.
“I will call you sir. Just because it annoys you,” Cogswell said, grimacing as he resumed his stretches.
Kermit scrunched his face. “So?”
“So, you’re annoying. Nagging me about stretches,” Cogswell said.
“I’m not annoying,” Kermit reasoned. “I’m a big brother.”
“That’s the same thing,” Cogswell said, and he reached over to give the frog a hard shove.
“Hey!” Kermit shoved him back—careful of the injured shoulder, of course—and they both laughed.
The conversation meant that Kermit didn’t notice when Geraldson got up from his computer and addressed Major D. in hushed tones, with Larsen attentively listening in.
It wasn’t long before some of the Marines started noticing something in the sky, and soon they were all looking up and pointing. They had confirmation long before their eyes could quite identify what they saw, but still they watched the approaching black shapes.
“Look, it’s a bird!” Emerson said playfully, pointing with exaggerated enthusiasm. “It’s a plane! It’s—It’s FOOD!”
The other Marines either laughed or groaned, and then Casper eagerly pointed up. “It’s WATER!” he shouted.
“It’s MAIL!” Pine declared.
“It’s work, boys. Hop to it,” Major D. said sternly, and they were all on their feet to retrieve the new delivery. All of the essentials had to be packed into place before the parcels marked MAIL could even be opened. With that kind of incentive, the work went quickly, and finally they heard the announcement of “MAIL CALL!”
They scurried into line for their letters. Kermit tried to be patient as he waited for his turn, but he was still empty-handed when Major D. called out, “FROG! Come here a minute. We need to chat.”
Kermit froze and felt a twist in his stomach, knowing that obeying would mean losing his place in line. Major D. knew that, and he knew how important a letter could be. He never interrupted a mail call…
Kermit gulped. “Yes sir,” he said. Quickly but reluctantly, he left his place in line, and the camera automatically followed.
“Holt! You get your mail,” Major D. ordered.
Kermit felt another twist in his gut, but he nodded to Holt, who also looked uneasy about this. “Yes sir,” Holt said, and he got back in his place in line.
Kermit didn’t waste another second rushing to stand at attention and salute the Major. “Sir,” he said. Only then did he notice the thick stack of envelopes in the Major’s hand; but of course, he was at attention, and he pretended not to see it.
“Come here, Frog,” Major D. snapped, and he turned on his heel and started marching away from the other Marines, towards the privacy of a large tent. “I need to have a word with you. You’ve been taking my fork again, haven’t you?”
Now? The Major was doing his interrogation routine now? It was supposed to be a game to keep their spirits up, not a delay to a mail call; but there was no choice but to go along with it. “No, sir. I haven’t touched your fork,” Kermit said resignedly.
“Frog, my fork has been missing,” Major D. said sharply.
“I don’t know anything about that, sir,” Kermit said.
“I know you don’t, Frog,” Major D. said, suddenly soft and quiet, which was almost more alarming than the shouting was. He led Kermit into the tent. “I do need to talk to you, though. Seems that nephew of yours is starting quite the little movement back home.”
Kermit’s every nerve had gone on edge at the word nephew, and he wasn’t sure if it was from panic or excitement. “Robin?” he said.
“Darndest thing,” the Major said, speaking more as if he were addressing the tent wall than the Lance Corporal. “Guess he somehow got everyone to notice how bad people have been treated if they support the war. Now they’re all talking. Saying how families—spouses, kids, parents—are all getting a hard time if they’ve got a family member in the service. Harassment, even. They’re all coming forward now, saying how they’ve been treated. And I guess the country’s figuring out that it’s not quite right how—oh, in some cases, for instance, people have had to ask for police protection, just for supporting the war.”
Kermit tried to swallow the very large lump that had somehow formed in his throat. “I didn’t realize it had gotten that bad at home…”
“Oh, it isn’t like that for everyone,” Major D. said dismissively. “Won’t be like that for anyone soon, the way things are headed now. Thanks to your nephew, I guess.”
And that was the intriguing part. “What… What exactly did Robin do, sir?” Kermit asked, watching the Major intently.
Major D. folded his arms and tilted his head, still staring at the tent wall like it was a fascinating painting. “Seems to me… He got angry,” he said. “Something about… some kind of protest, somewhere by his school? I guess it pushed some buttons, and he wanted to do something about it.”
Without even realizing it, Kermit slid his hand into his pocket and touched what he knew just by feel was the picture of himself with his nephew. Robin was… taking a stand? Pride and worry swelled up against each other in his chest.
“Of course, those… folks you live with, they’ve been pretty protective of him. Keeping him pretty sheltered,” Major D. said.
And just like that, pride won, because he knew his nephew was safe. Kermit stood a little straighter.
“But he’s a brave little fella,” Major D. mused. “Rumor has it, he wants to do an interview about the whole thing. And I guess they might let him. With supervision, I would guess.” He finally looked at Kermit. “At any rate, Frog, my point is that nobody wanted you to worry about him. But I thought you should hear all of that before you got your mail.” He handed over most of the stack of envelopes in his hand.
Kermit felt his jaw drop. This was his mail! He didn’t have to go wait in line to get it; the Major had gotten it for him, and the letter on top of the pile was from Robin. “Oh—thank you, sir!”
Major D. barely nodded. “Dismissed, Frog. Go read your mail.”
“Yes sir!” Kermit saluted so hastily that he nearly poked himself in the eye before he darted out of the tent and tore open the first envelope. He read slowly and walked even slower. The first six words were always the same:
Dear Uncle Kermit,
I MISS YOU!
We are all at the swamp now. I wish you were here, too. It’s lots of fun! It’s crowded. But we’re all happy. I think Zoot and Uncle Noah are friends now. They both don’t talk. And Gonzo and Croaker get along great, wich witch which (Dad is helping me spell) Uncle Todd said is danjerus dangerous. And Aunt Maggie said to tell you she doesn’t like Pepe, but I think she does like pushing him in the pond. She does that a lot, and Aunt Piggy cheers. Aunt Piggy and Aunt Maggie are friends now, too. Dad said that shood should scare you, but I don’t think so.
We were here for my birthday! We had a great big party for me and my brothers and sisters. It was FUN! We sang and played games and Grandma made lots and lots and LOTS of cake! I ate your pee peace piece for you. Don’t tell. Can you beleev believe I’m finally six?
“No, Robin,” Kermit murmured to the paper, “I can’t believe you’re six.” And he kept reading.
LISA!! YOUR BACK!! WOO HOO!
Wow! I am now all caught up with this story already. Thanks for posting, Lisa!
Huh? Am I awake?
*passes out from surprise/disbelief*
Yes, Vin, you ARE awake! But TheWeirdoGirl isn't. Or at least, not anymore... Oops.
Ready for the next shocker? The next shocker is... I'll probably post more tomorrow! I say "probably," because it depends whether or not I shoot my computer first. I'm having some issues. Microsoft Word keeps freezing up on me, so I have to close and reopen the document after every two or three sentences. RIDICULOUSLY frustrating... But I've still managed to write over a thousand words tonight, so assuming I get back on track again tomorrow... good things will happen.
Just a question but Did anyone else break into song when You saw that Lisa posted? Cuz I did!
OMG! You're back, you're back, you're back. Yaaaaaay! This story was FAR too Muppetational to leave in the dust!!!!
Like omg your back and not just back ,but your continuing this beautiful and wonderful story yeaaa !!!!!!
See even kermits happy (points at kermit smiley)
It's amazing that Robin spelled "dangerous" correctly, I can't do that without autocorrect.
Lisa! Welcome back! Welcome to more fic!
What's more surprising is that you might post tomorrow too.
But hey, Kermit can't believe he's six...
I can't either.
Kermit read on and on as Robin’s letter described his birthday celebration and how all of the Muppets were getting along with all of the inhabitants of the swamp—and the swamp itself.
They don’t all like sleeping on the ground, so we made beds! I helped. Not everyone wanted one. Rowlf likes the ground, and not all the monsters fit on beds. It’s really weerd wierd weird to see beds in the swamp, but Aunt Piggy likes it and Grandma says it’s really nice to have all of us here. We made the beds by your log, and we all sleep around it. But sometimes I sleep with my brothers and sisters. But last night everyone said I could sleep on your log and I did and I missed you lots and lots.
“I miss you, too, Robin,” Kermit whispered to the paper, and he pressed his unopened letters against his heart. He missed all of them, and now he even missed his old log. He had never thought to miss his log.
I think I miss you more here in the swamp, because you always get it when I’m homesick for both our homes. I was REALLY REALLY glad to come here, and now I really want to leave. I don’t want to tell anyone because they won’t get it like you do. I miss you.
I’m really excited for when we leave because we are going to New York! I’m doing a real interview! I will be on The Today Show and I get to talk to Matt Lower Lauer. Aunt Piggy and Fozzie said to tell you not to worry because they will be with me the hole whole time. But I really want to do it because the whole country will see me and I want them all to see because lots of people are talking about me.
It started because there were mean people who were angry about the war and they were yelling by my school. (Dad says they might not be mean. But I think he thinks they are mean.) Everyone says not to tell you I was scared because it will make you upset. But I think you shouldn’t be upset because I’m not scared now.
At that, Kermit forgot about the blazing sun beating down on him. He felt cold—very, very cold. But he kept reading.
I want to tell everyone that I’m not scared now, because I won’t let them scare me. And I think they scare other kids who have parents fighting. I don’t want them to scare anyone anymore. And I think if I tell them that, maybe they will listen, because they are talking about me and they usually listen to you.
Everyone says that I’m being brave. I don’t feel brave, Uncle Kermit. I feel excited for my INTERVIEW! And I feel mad at the mean people. And I feel really proud of you. And I feel proud of Uncle Greg, but more proud of you.
Am I brave? I think you are. I wish you could be there for my big INTERVIEW! I hope you will be proud of me. I will try really hard to do a good job so you will be proud. Aunt Piggy and Fozzie say you will be proud, and Rowlf and Scooter say I will do really good.
I MISS YOU! I LOVE YOU!
Kermit didn’t notice the tears in his eyes until the letter started to blur in front of him, and he didn’t realize that he was back among his unit again until Geraldson and Larsen were both next to him, each with a hand on his back, asking if he was alright.
He laughed. “Great,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I’m great.”
None of them looked convinced—and they were all looking at him, all of them worried, and the amazing thing was that none of them gave him a hard time for being a big softie and crying over a letter from home. He laughed again, and Geraldson and Larsen both visibly relaxed.
“Robin…” He tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come quite right. He just grinned and held the letter up while a few more tears trickled down his cheeks without his notice. “Robin. My Robin,” he said. “Interview… He… He wants to know if I’m proud of him.” He wiped his eyes. “I could burst, I’m that proud.”
“You’re always that proud,” Geraldson said with a smirk, but there were some relieved sighs around them.
“Well yeah, but this is different! He’s… Oh, sheesh.” He sat down and hugged his letters to his chest. “There’s… Some stuff lately… I guess… some protesters…” And then he took another look at the faces around him. “You guys already know, don’t you?” he said softly.
Many of them looked away. Geraldson held his breath—and, behind the camera, so did Holt. But Larsen just said, “Yeah, we know. He’s had a rough time of it lately.”
Kermit nodded. “He’s gonna do an interview about it. He wants to do an interview,” he said eagerly. Then he wistfully added, “And he wants to know if that makes him brave.”
“Nah. Just makes him like his uncle,” Larsen said, and they laughed. “Now come on, Frog. Are you gonna read the rest of your mail? I’ve got five letters from my siblings. How many did you get from yours? You’ve got that great big one in back there…”
“Alright, alright…” Kermit flipped through his unopened mail while the others around him started to return their attention to their own letters. At the bottom of his stack was a big manila envelope, which did seem unusual. He gave it a perplexed look, and then he looked at the return address and had to stare at it for a moment before he could quite comprehend. “Oh,” he said, and then, “Oh!” and he grinned. “Well, Larsen, if you’re worried about this envelope… It’s not gonna change how many letters I got from my siblings.”
“No? How come?” Larsen asked skeptically.
“Because none of my siblings live on Sesame Street!” Kermit said cheerfully. He opened the envelope and dumped the crayon-covered contents into his lap.
All eyes were on him again, and mouths slowly opened. Emerson edged forward. “Sesame Street?” he reverently breathed. “They’re still…”
“…Real?” Casper finished. They were all moving in now, sitting close to Kermit and staring in awe with their own mail half-forgotten in their hands. Holt sat right down with them and zoomed in on Kermit without quite realizing he did so, and it took a moment before he remembered to keep some of the other Marines in the shot as well.
“Still real,” Pine murmured, rubbing his fingers against one of his letters. “My Eva has an Elmo bib.”
Larsen nodded. “My brother likes to watch them.”
They watched as Kermit carefully leafed through these papers, straining for glimpses of lopsided lettering and crayon drawings that had all been made with love, and a few neatly handwritten notes from the adults as well.
“It’s hard to believe,” Cogswell murmured. “Hard to believe… with all we’ve got here, every day, and back home there’s still… There’s something that’s so…”
“Safe,” Kermit said, looking up for the first time since he’d opened the envelope. “They’re safe. Really, truly… Always.”
Plank hugged his legs and settled his cheek against his knees, his whole face clouded and dark. “Safe,” he repeated, and the word sounded foreign to all of them.
Casper put a hand on Plank’s shoulder. “We’re not used to safe,” he said.
“No. Not here,” Larsen quietly agreed.
“Not even at home, really, anymore,” Geraldson said. “But… But there it’s… It’s still safe?”
“It’s still safe,” Kermit nodded. “And still sunny. It’s incredible, isn’t it?”
“Incredible,” Cogswell whispered, and he shook his head. “I can’t believe it…”
Kermit grinned at him. “Well, I guess you’ll have to add it to the list of places you want to see when you get home, huh?”
Cogswell gaped and his eyes went wide with wonder at the idea that, not only did a place like Sesame Street still exist, but he could go there someday. Then he started to smile and whispered, “Can you tell me how to get there?”
“Sure!” Kermit chuckled. “But only if you say please.”
They laughed. “Please and thank you!” Pine said.
“Yes—thank you,” Kermit said, looking straight into the camera, and he nodded faintly before he looked at his fellow Marines again. “You guys wanna hear what they wrote?”
They burst with loud, eager agreement, all pressing even a little bit closer, and then Emerson laughed. “We just turned into kids ourselves, didn’t we?” he groaned.
“Nothing wrong with that!” Casper said defensively. “Read ‘em, Frog, read ‘em!”
“Please,” Cogswell prompted.
Kermit chuckled. “Well, Grover wrote, HEEEY FROGGY BABYYYYYYYY!”
They laughed, and Geraldson gave Kermit a hard slap on the back—so he wouldn’t feel homesick, of course.
They admired all of the drawings and read through all of the notes—except for the ones from the adults, which Kermit set aside to read to himself later. But for a little while, the horrors of the war disappeared, and the men had a taste of innocence. They all helped to unfold the banner-sized note from Snuffleupagus, which Kermit assured them was “small” and which they agreed to hang on the wall of the mess tent. And when the note from The Count ended with, of course, a count of how many words were in the note, they all stared up in disbelief as thunder and lightning cracked across the clear blue sky.
“Alright, last one,” Kermit announced as he reached the bottom of the stack. He skimmed the note and smirked. “Geraldson! Have you been talking to Elmo?”
Geraldson laughed. “What?”
“Dear Green Frog,” Kermit read. “Elmo heard that Green Frog is in a place that is not very safe. Elmo thinks Green Frog should always wear a helmet so Green Frog will be safe.”
And all of them laughed again. “Green Frog should wear a helmet!” Geraldson said.
“Green Frog does wear a helmet!” Kermit said.
“You took it off in combat!”
“Only once! One time, and it saved your neck!”
“It cost your shoulder!”
“You guys fight like a married couple!” Pine groaned. “What else did Elmo say, Frog?”
“Hm? Oh.” Kermit cleared his throat. “Elmo hopes Green Frog can come and play soon. Elmo loves you! Love, Elmo.”
“Elmo writes pretty good for a three year old,” Cogswell said.
“Three and a half,” Kermit said. “And he lives on Sesame Street. And… he had help.” He let a grateful hand rest on the few unread notes.
He read those silently to himself after dinner. Bob, Susan and Gordon, Maria and Luis… They had all written. Their notes included phrases like We love you and We miss you and We hope you’re alright and We believe in you.
They believed in him. He wondered if they knew how much that meant.
He also wondered if they knew how much it could cost. He suspected that they did… but he wondered if he really knew. There had been protesters by Robin’s school. Between what Major D had said, what was written in his other letters, and what he was slowly drawing out of the others in his unit, Kermit was starting to piece together a grim picture of the home front and what it held for anyone who dared to show support for the war.
Sesame Street had managed to stay safe from all of that. For everyone’s sake, they needed to stay safe. And for Kermit’s own selfish reasons, for his own peace of mind, he needed to know that they were safe. So when they sent off that week’s footage, Kermit attached a note for the editor insisting on something he had already discussed with his unit: that the broadcast show not include any mention of the fact that he had received a package from Sesame Street.
And there was another equally urgent thing. As soon as possible, Kermit needed to send a very long letter to his little nephew Robin, but “as soon as possible” wouldn’t be quite soon enough for his liking. For now, he sent a quick e-mail to all of the Muppets, so that whoever saw it first could relay the message.
Please give my love to Robin. Tell him I’m proud of him. Tell him I wish I could be there in person with him for his interview. Tell him I’ll try to watch it online. Tell him yes, I think he’s brave. And tell him thank you.
Separate names with a comma.