A Robotic Heart

Oh man, I just read this entire story and I am HOOKED. Please more, Caitlyn! A very well thought out and well written story!

Chapter 14

The summer of 1976 was one that most of us would never forget. Not only did we start to tour a few states during that year, but a certain show aired that would make an impact on all of us.

We came across the show purely by chance. All of us were at Beard and Clifford’s place again and were trying to think of what to do. Until then, we were searching through channels to try to find a good program worth watching.

As soon as we changed the channel from one station to the other, the sound of an announcer (a frog announcer, to be exact) filled the room. “It’s The Muppet Show,” the amphibian exclaimed, “with our special guest star…”

“Wait, isn’t that Kermit the Frog?” Francine spoke up.

“You mean the frog off of Sesame Street?” Clifford added.

“Didn’t know it came on this late,” Flash managed to mumble out.

“Wonder what this is all about,” I wondered, turning the volume up a little.

“It’s time to play the music, it’s time to light the lights,” a group of chorus girls sang. “It’s time to meet the Muppets on The Muppet Show tonight!”

Immediately, I started to hum along with the theme music. It had a certain vaudeville style that seemed to grab my attention. We all watched as the guest star was introduced

“… this is what we call The Muppet Show!” an ensemble of Muppets finished. Then a little blue creature with a funny-looking nose (who I would later learned to be called Gonzo) tried to hit the inside of the “O” like it was a gong with hilarious results.

After that opening theme, all eyes were turned to the TV so that we could all watch this new show that grabbed our attention so suddenly. The crazy antics that played before us on the small screen captured our laughter as nothing ever had before.

One of the aspects of the show that all of us loved was the music. There was such a diversity to it that it had at least a handful of songs that each of us liked, and then some.

There was one thing about the show that we all agreed on a musical level: Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem were terrific.

Right from the moment we first saw them, we knew that this band was talented. The way they could perform a variety of music from jazz to rock (to even classical at some times) simply amazed us all. Every time they performed, they never ceased to amaze us.

“You know, maybe we should go as them for a Halloween sometime,” I commented as we all watched the Electric Mayhem perform a fast-paced cover of “Tenderly”.

“Oh no,” Francine protested, “I’m not about to dress up as Animal.”

“Same goes for me as Janice,” Beard mumbled under his breath.

Clifford apparently heard that comment because he laughed immediately afterwards.

A few minutes later, another sketch that I was particularly fond of: the exciting realm of Muppet Labs, “where the future is being made today.” I always loved the innovations of Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and hope every time I watch a sketch that his inventions will work. Oddly enough, I felt as if I shared some sort of a connection with the scientist that I couldn’t begin to explain.

“Man, I can never understand this cat,” Clifford remarked as we watched Bunsen experiment with a gorilla detector. “How does he keep on doin’ that?”

“He’s very determined,” I commented, “yet he also seems to be a little frustrated to get one of his inventions to actually work well.”

“If dat’s the case, he must work a lot,” Leon stated.

“Wow, what a useful invention,” Francine sarcastically said as a gorilla wreaked havoc on-screen.

I sighed silently to myself. At least it works, I thought to myself as I watched the alarm flash and the bell ring.

~~~

We all followed the show even a year later, when we were on the road touring. In our hotel rooms in New York City (where we were on tour), we all gathered to watch The Muppet Show on at least one television screen and comment about it.

By the summer of 1977, the show was is its second season. This meant more musical numbers, more guest stars, and more fun for us to watch.

“Here is Chopin’s Polonaise in A Flat,” Kermit announced on screen as the audience clapped.

“Yawn,” I heard Francine say.

“Psst, Kermit,” a voice belonging to a bear (Fozzie Bear) whispered as he poked his head out from behind the curtain, “the concert pianist could not make it.”

“Yeah, but I just introduced the Polonaise,” the frog stated.

“That’s okay,” Fozzie replied, “here, I got a whole new intro written.” He then handed his friend a piece of paper with writing on it. “Good luck, kid.” Then he disappeared behind the curtain.

“Maybe they’re getting Rowlf to play it?” Lindbergh questioned.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Kermit announced, “Chopin’s Polonaise in A Flat as performed by… Dr. Teeth?”

All of us laughed out loud right after he finished speaking. We all tried to calm down so that we could watch the number, but in the end we all chuckled and giggled as we were watching. I believe that we couldn’t believe that a rock band was playing a piece of classical music in their own style. It was just hilarious.

After the number was over, we were all talking to each other at once about it. We all seemed to come to the same conclusion: “That was hilarious.”

Pretty soon (after a commercial break), it was time for another visit to Muppet Labs.

“Where the future is being made today,” I said along with the scientist. That caused some weird stares from some of the others in my direction. I didn’t answer them, I was too absorbed in the sketch.

One of the first things that everyone seemed to notice was a new person in the sketch: a man with a test tube-like appearance with messed-up red hair and a nervous disposition. Just a few moments later, we learned that this was Dr. Bunsen Honeydew’s new assistant, Beaker.

“He finally got a guinea pig,” Francine commented after the assistant’s introduction.

I simply nodded in response. It was interesting to see such a distinguished scientist get such a nervous helper. I didn’t even know why he was there. Maybe it was the exploding clothes from last season, I thought to myself.

This week’s invention was magnetic carrots, and Bunsen claimed that they can be carried home on the roof of the car and can be stored on the roof of your refrigerator.

“Of course, to be perfectly honest” the scientist added as what appeared to be the sound of mechanical hopping accompanied by a metal rabbit started to come into the lab, “there is one slight drawback. Sometimes, the magnetic carrots tend to attract steel, er, rabbits.” He then quickly ducked down just in time to not be hit by the mechanical rabbit. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said about poor Beaker.

“Man, that gotta hurt,” Clifford observed.

“Wow, what a sketch,” Lindbergh said to me.

“I know,” I replied to him. “Who would’ve known that he’d get an assistant?”

~~~

The next day, we performed a concert on a stage in Central Park. Leon, who had since the argument became our temporary manager, reported that the ticket sales were great (even though none of us remembered if we actually sold tickets or not). We played our hearts out at that concert, just as we had done for all the others.

“Thank you, New York!” Beard exclaimed as the concert drew to a close. “You’ve been a wonderful audience! Good night, everybody!” With that, Lindbergh cued up a recording of us playing as we waved to the slowly disappearing crowd.

The entire band, including Lindbergh and Leon, later went to a café for dinner after the performance. Everyone was talking up a storm about all that they’ve seen and would like to see while we were still in the town that never sleeps.

We were in the middle of a group discussion about possibly seeing a show on Broadway when Lindbergh and Leon (who had been up getting their drinks) ran towards our table. “You’ll never guess who wants to speak to you!” the kiwi bird exclaimed, a look of excitement on his face.

“A guy from a record company?” Clifford guessed.

“Nah,” Leon told him. “Good try, though. Here’s a hint: famous, musically talented, keyboards--”

“Elton John wants to speak to us?” I asked excitedly before the lizard had a chance to continue, standing up from my seat.

“How about a group of someones who’ve worked with him?” a familiar voice asked.

All of us turned our heads in the general direction of the voice. Our eyes did find the owner of the voice and the group that he was with. We could not believe who we saw.

There, standing some feet from us, were the one and only Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem.

There, wanting to speak to us, were the groovy keyboardist, the hip bass player, the lovely lead guitarist, the cool saxophonist, and the wild drummer that we had all grown to become fans of.

There, looking at them in amazement, were my friends and I, waiting for at least one of us to speak to them.

“Like, don’t worry, we won’t bite,” Janice said before any of us. That gave us some relief.

“ROCK AND ROLL! ROCK AND ROLL! ROCK AND ROLL!”

Animal, however, decided to be a little bit more forward, literally running up to us. He would’ve tackled at least three of us if it weren’t for Floyd holding him back by a chain.

“Well, all of us except for Animal,” the bass player added. “Don’t worry, though, he’s usually like this around people that he doesn’t know.”

“Hai,” the drummer greeted, waving at us.

“… hello,” Francine said with a slight amount of uneasiness in her voice. “Nice to meet you.”

The drummer (their drummer, not ours) took a look at her and blinked. “Wo-man?” he asked.

“… yeah,” the female said. “Like I said, it’s nice to meet--”

“WO-MAN! WO-MAN! WO-MAN!”

Francine let out a gasp and ran for cover to prevent Animal from chasing her more. The rest of us couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

“You think this is FUNNY! ?” our drummer said in disbelief.

“Should’ve warned you about that, girlie,” Floyd told her, keeping a firm hold on Animal’s chain leash. “Well, at least you know now.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling me so soon,” she replied sarcastically.

Flash went over to help Francine up, leaving the rest of us to talk among another: basically, the main conversations were Zoot with Lindbergh, Clifford and Beard with Floyd and Janice, Leon with Animal (when the latter wasn’t chasing him). The two teens later joined in to talk with Floyd and Janice as well and the entire band had their inputs in all the conversations, but for now, it was just Dr. Teeth and I.

“I am -- actually, all of us are -- big fans of your band’s work,” I said to the other keyboardist.

“It always warms the heart to meet a receptive audience,” the man with the golden tooth replied.

“Yeah,” Floyd added to the conversation, “it means you hip dudes at least have some taste!” Then he gave out a raspy laugh.

“We’ve all been fans of the band’s work since the beginning of The Muppet Show,” I told him before realizing an important matter. “By the way, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you… you know… talking to us?”

Dr. Teeth shrugged. “Why not?”

Janice added her bit to the conversation, “Like, we’re usually in tune with the vibrations of music’s future…”

“And you dudes are definitely vibratin’ the vibrations of fated tunes,” their leader finished with a nod.

A smile crept onto my face. “Oh, thank you, all of you” I thanked
them. “You don’t know how much your comments will mean to the band.”

The man with the permanent grin patted me on the shoulder. “It is a most welcome pleasure, my technological and biological accompaniment!” he replied. “The band is always lookin' for a groovy set of melodious progeny to whom to pass the emblematic torch.”

I shook the other keyboardist’s hand, a feeling of happiness filling up my entire body. “It’s truly an honor just to meet you and the rest of the band,” I told him. “We’ve always talked about it, but we could never imagine it like this. This… is beyond belief. This... is beyond belief. I can't believe we're actually talking with the Electric Mayhem. I mean... wow…”

“Hey, man, don’t blow a transistor or nothin’,” Floyd and Beard said in response. Then they glanced over at each other and let out a laugh.

“Man Floyd, you’ve hardly changed,” our guitarist happily stated to their bass guitarist. “How long has it been again?”

“I think the last time we saw each other was,” Floyd blinked, “what, Aunt Bea’s Christmas party back in ‘68?”

“Ten years?” Beard thought out loud.

“Believe so,” was the response. “That was the year that Rosie and Uncle Tom announced their engagement…”

“And Jimmy went and nearly scared Aunt Bea/my mom half to death with that prank,” they both finished with a laugh.

The rest of us decided to let the two catch up on things as I continued to speak to the rest of them. “So, what brings you all to New York?” I asked, wondering why they weren’t taking a break in the UK.

“Like, TV is a good gig and all,” Janice answered, “but it's also important to check the pulse of the real music scene every once in awhile.”

Dr. Teeth nodded in agreement. “Too true, too true. One must keep abreast of the latest melodies or risk dyin' the death of the has-been.”

“Truer words have never been spoken, man,” Clifford said, agreeing with all of this.

“Excuse me…”

Our heads turned to see the waiter with our orders. “Here’s your food,” he said. “Should I… go back to the kitchen to request more orders?”

“Man, some food does sound a little good right about now,” Floyd commented. “Let’s see what all this place has.” He then grabbed a menu and thumbed through it, passing it around to the others so that they could see as well.

Throughout all of this, I noticed that Dr. Teeth seemed a little distracted. He seemed to be looking at something in the distance and started to wander off near the corner. Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I decided to follow him.

“Dr. Teeth…?” I started, curious as to what was troubling him.

The good doctor nodded for me to approach him. “I would like to discourse on your keyboardin' technique,” he told me.

“… sure,” I replied, stepping closer to him. “What about it?”

“Y'see, Digit, my man,” he began, “we of the Electric Mayhem have made many a record, as have many musicians before and after us. And yet, a record is just a copy: little tiny microscopic grooves directed by a tiny little needle. You want the soul of the musician, you gotta hear him play. I've been watchin' and I see you can COPY the notes ... but can you PLAY 'em?”

I was about to answer him, but then I paused to consider his words. Was I really just… COPYING the music? How could I really PLAY the music? And… did I even have a soul still?

As I looked back on my career so far, I noted that I was still fairly new to the music scene and had the least experience in the band. True, I was copying the notes, but it wasn’t because of my new robotic nature rather than my inexperience in the realm of the musical world. I couldn’t possibly think of what he was getting at… except…

“… are you saying that I have no soul?” I softly questioned the more experienced keyboardist.

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I asked if you could PLAY. I never said you COULDN'T,” he told me. “I would never theorize about the nature of the universe. That's more of Zoot's ax. I just tickle the ivories according to the notes I'm handed.”

“Oh.” I paused a little before speaking again. “… sorry if I jumped to conclusions a little, it's just… well, I've been through a lot in the past few years…”

“I can imagine,” the good doctor replied with a nod. “No one ever stops to think that Animal has a mind with which to conceive the deepest of the deep thoughts. It's just his rambunctiousness gets in the way of what's going on inside that fuzzy noggin' of his. That's why we took him as our drummer, to give his hands something to do so his mind can chill out later.”

I never would’ve thought that Animal was that deep. I managed a “wow” before letting the conversation go on.

“It may have evaded your contemplation,” Dr. Teeth continued, “but the Electric Mayhem is filled righteously awesome dudes and dudettes.” He nodded towards their sax player. “Zoot studied how music soothes the savage soul.” Then he motioned towards Janice.“ Our leading lady joined the Peace Corp when it first came of service.” Finally, he pointed to himself. “I have a prodigious vocabulary which betrays my own achievements in vernacular and parlance. Those are just but a few examples of the greatness that is us. It only took a single observation to notice the band of the almighty Solid Foam is comprised of equally strange and compatible geniuses. But a genius that never uses his head is just a regular joe. When you play, you try so hard to be someone else. Practice your tunes until your fingers play them in your sleep. That way, you'll stop copyin' notes ... you'll be playin' your heart.”

I smiled at the permanently smiling keyboardist. “I believe I understand now,” I told him. “I need to really practice until my own emotions come out in my playing. Dr. Teeth, thank you… thank you… thank you… thank you… thank you…”

His shades went up in surprise. All I could do was repeat the phrase “thank you” constantly, steadily becoming frustrated that I couldn’t control it.

“Do not overly fret, my technological amigo,” the master of ivories stated to me warmly. “We of the Electric Mayhem always have our ears to the ground regarding the presence of helping hands.”

"We got a house doctor over at the show,” Zoot spoke up (which was surprising, since he hardly said anything the entire time). “Dude goes by the name of Honeydew. He's got a major in robotics and all sorts of weird gadgetry. If anyone's got what you need, he does.”

“Yeah, what you'll need FIRST is a will and testament,” Floyd added before laughing.

“BUNSEN FIX! BUNSEN FIX!” Animal yelled.

My eyes lit up. Now I was offered the perfect chance to meet Dr. Bunsen Honeydew, that scientist that I had grown to know fondly by the presentation of his inventions. I disregarded the joke that Floyd made and happily thanked all of them a couple more times (since I was still glitching) before thinking about what the next day would bring.

That was awesome.

The band's comments on the Muppet Show made me laugh a lot. I see Digit is still on an Elton John fixation.

The dialogue flows between characters very nicely.

I am hooked to this story. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am hooked. I can't wait to devour more and more of this story!

Wonderful, excellent job!

You have re-awakened my obession with Digit again. =D Good job there.

Chapter 15

The next day, I found myself looking around at various inventions in what was most likely Bunsen and Beaker’s main office/workspace. I didn’t know if I was supposed to be in there yet or not. The door was unlocked and nobody else was around, so I let myself in.

The numerous inventions that Dr. Bunsen Honeydew had on display simply astounded me. Not only were some of him Muppet Show inventions there, but there were also some that I’ve never seen before on the show. All of the inventions were simply amazing and I loved to study each one.

At some point, I came across a pile of blueprints, each of them dated in the bottom left corner. These contained designs for some of his inventions, a majority of which hadn’t been made yet. I analyzed them all with fascination, trying to think of what other things could’ve come from the scientist’s mind.

One set of blueprints seemed to grab my attention, however. The designs on the paper were of a system of circuitry which was, strangely enough, very much like my own. I saw a patent date in the corner, the year of the patent being early 1975. How could he make such an invention that seems to be the basis for my circuitry? I pondered to myself.

My pondering was interrupted early by the approach of a small group outside the lab. I quickly folded the blueprints back up and placed them with the others, remaining perfectly still afterwards so that I could listen in on the conversation.

“Bunsen! I want you to get rid of your ‘Bunsonium’ right now!” exclaimed a frustrated voice. The voice was unmistakable, it had to be Kermit the Frog speaking.

“I've had it up to here with your inventions!” he continued. “If it weren't for the fact the audience mistakes your sketch for comedy, I'd have you fired!” (I let out a soft gasp at this statement. How could he put such a brilliant mind out of a job?) “Not a single one of your inventions does anything other than destroy everything around the theater! You claimed that stuff was a paint remover ... and it ended up ADDING paint! You used it as a glue for floorboards ... and a penguin walked over it and the whole floor crashed to the ground! I've got barely enough money to pay our wages! How can you possibly justify inventions that eat us out of house and home?”

“Mr. Kermit, I assure you that there are some good in my inventions,” the mild-mannered voice of Dr. Bunsen Honeydew told him. “In fact, Beaker and I are still experimenting on the good uses of Bunsonium at the moment.”

“Making you disappear?” was the sarcastic response from the frog.

There was silence for a moment between them. “Actually, that may be a good idea for a future invention,” the scientist commented. A “meep”, most likely from Beaker, went out in surprise. “But for now, we're still trying to find a good, external use for the chemical.”

I then heard Kermit let out a frustrated scream and storm off.

“Oh dear,” Bunsen worriedly stated, “I'm afraid that I've gone and upset him…oh well… such is the burden of being a scientist…” A sigh escaped from his throat. “To think, I only want one of my inventions to be for the greater well being of humanity…”

The sound of more meeping could be heard as I saw the shadow of Beaker pat his colleague on the shoulder. “There, there now, Beaker,” Bunsen continued, “hope is not lost. Besides, we have yet to see the effects of Bunsonium as a shampoo!”

More meeps went out in protest. “Oh, nonsense, Beaker,” the scientist said, turning the knob to the door and opening it so that the two could get into the room, “it’ll be all right. Remember that we’re doing this strictly for science.”

He then turned around to see me, standing there right in front of him. “Oh, why hello there,” Dr. Honeydew greeted to me. “Welcome to Muppet Labs, where the future is being made today! I’m Dr. Bunsen Honeydew, and this is my assistant Beaker.”

“Mee-mo!” the assistant waved.

“How may we be of service to you, sir?”

I didn’t want to speak in fear of repeating even more phrases over and over. Instead, I grabbed a pencil and a pad of paper and began to write a sentence. ‘Can you help me, please?’ I wrote for them.

“Oh, yes,” Bunsen answered. “What seems to be the problem?”

‘There seems to be a glitch in my system,’ I wrote. ‘I keep repeating phrases over and over again with no control over it.’

“Hmm…” The scientist stroked his chin for a few seconds. “May we please have a demonstration?”

I was afraid that he would say that… Still, I couldn’t just refuse to do it, he wanted proof. I cleared my throat and started to say a phrase to them. “Welcome to Muppet Labs,” I said to them, “where the future is being made today. Where the future is being made today,” I repeated. “Where the future is being made today. Where the future is being made today.”

Beaker awed in amazement as I continued to repeat the phrase without control to them. “Interesting,” his scientific friend commented. “Now calm down, Mr. …? I don‘t believe I caught the name.”

I grabbed the writing utensil and the notepad again and wrote my name for them.

“Oh, Mr. Digit,” the scientist read. “Don’t you fret about a thing, Mr. Digit, we’ll have you good as new in no time. Beaker,” he said to his assistant, “could you please help our patient onto the table?”

The reply was a meep in agreement. “Excellent!” Bunsen exclaimed. “While you’re doing that, I’ll go ready the equipment and tools!” He then strolled over to another part of the lab to do just that.

Beaker sighed. “I just don‘t understand why he chose me to be his assistant,” he meeped to me, taking me over to the table.

My eyes widened a little. I could understand him perfectly, and I didn’t even realize it until now.

“What? What is it?” the assistant meeped in confusion as I stared at him.

‘Nothing,’ I wrote for him to read, ‘it’s just that I seem to understand you somehow.’

He gasped. “You mean, you can understand what I’m saying to you right now?” he asked in meep form.

‘Indeed, I can,’ I jotted down. ‘Now, about what you said earlier… I think it’s great that you’re working with a scientist like Bunsen. Why, I’ve always wanted to work with him myself.’

“Wow,” Beaker meeped in amazement, “hardly anyone’s been able to understand me before. I mean, sure, Bunsen can understand me, but usually he’s just absorbed into his inventions.”

‘He has a brilliant mind,’ I commented before I set the pad down to hoist myself up onto the table with the assistant’s help.

“He really does,” Beaker replied in meeps. “The thing is, he’s so focused on at least one of his inventions working out to help everyone. So far, none of them have seemed to help that much.”

‘The gorilla detector worked,’ I wrote. ‘That is, before the gorilla broke it…’

“There was a gorilla detector?” he meeped in curiosity.

Before I had a chance to write anything else, Dr. Bunsen Honeydew reentered the area with a few tools and equipment that was to be used to repair me. “Now then, Mr. Digit,” he said, “just stay put for a little while until Beaker and I finish setting up the equipment. It shouldn’t take too long.”

I nodded, and the two scientists started to set up all the equipment and tools needed for my repair. During this time, I started to doodle a little. It was nothing special, just a few designs for a rocket and a movie set.

“Okay, now, stay perfectly still,” Bunsen instructed, walking behind me with a screwdriver. “I’m going to loosen this panel back here so I can get to your main circuitry.”

I put the paper down and sat perfectly still, my eyes wandering around the room. The feeling of the bolts of the control panel loosening on the back on my head sort of tickled, and I softly chuckled a little bit. It was after the panel was loosened up that the scientist took a look around inside my head.

A few moments later, I heard him gasp in surprise.

I slowly and carefully turned around as Dr. Honeydew backed away, looking like he had just seen the biggest shock of his life.

“I cannot believe it,” he softly stated, a look of surprise on his face.

Quickly, I grabbed the pad and pencil again and wrote out a simple message to him: ‘What’s wrong?’

“Nothing, my good man,” he told me, “it’s just that… excuse me for a moment.” The scientist then took a few moments to regain his composure. “Sorry about that,” he apologized, “it was just that I couldn’t believe what I just saw.”

‘What did you see?’ I wrote.

“I saw… my own work.”

I dropped the pencil and heard the sound it made as it hit the floor. All was deathly silent as I stared at him in shock.

My eyes must’ve conveyed a message to Bunsen as he replied a few moments later. “Now, let’s get you repaired and I’ll tell you all about it afterwards,” he said before beginning his work.

~~~

After I was fixed, Beaker was sent out to do an errand. Bunsen pulled up two chairs for us and motioned for me to sit down in one of them. He followed suit a few moments later.

I was a little nervous on speaking to him. One, I wasn’t entirely sure if I’d stop repeating phrases. Two, all of the yelling earlier had made me a little uneasy. Three, I didn’t even know what to say.

“So,” the scientist started, “how long has it been since your operation?”

“About two years, I believe,” I replied. “The operation occurred in 1975...” Had it really been only two years?

Bunsen stroked his chin as he spoke. “Hmmm… I see. And other than the occasional vocal inconsistencies, everything has been working out okay?”

“Everything's been working out fine,” I answered. “Even though I do have a minor malfunction every now and then, I have a friend who's in mechanics who helps me get back up on my feet.”

“Hmm, fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. He must be extremely intelligent to be able to comprehend the complexities of such a beautiful design,” Dr. Honeydew commented, smiling warmly.

“Yes,” I agreed, smiling back. “Lindbergh is really terrific. He's one of the best friends a person like me could ever have.”

“Ahem, yes,” he continued as he shifted around uncomfortably in his chair.
“Companionship ... can be ... most satisfactory.”

I noticed the uneasiness and decided to change the subject a little. “… still, I only have a handful of close friends. You, however, have a lot of friends that you work with almost every day.”

“Well, my coworkers are quite busy, as am I,” the scientist stated with a hint of wistfulness, “there are many details to running a theater.” Then he immediately started to cheer up as the conversation continued. “Before I started here, I had no idea the rigor that was required. It's almost scientific in its need for absolute discipline and concentration. My, the long hours we work are so productive and satisfying. I find myself devoting entire DAYS to the job.”

“You and your coworkers are all one big, happy family,” I commented before sighing. “Boy, I wish I had that as a child,” I softly continued.

“So do I,” I heard him agree before he caught himself. “I mean, I feel the entire WORLD is my family. I desire nothing more than to help others and make the world a better place through technology.” In a moment, he became slightly downcast. “Sadly, it gets harder and harder to come up with viable inventions. The sketches on the show are not quite what they appear to be ... I had hoped that it would be far more informative and educational. Instead, it appears my inventions ... amuse ... people.”

“Well, I for one think that your inventions are incredible,” I told him, hoping to cheer the scientist up. “Nowhere in a million years would someone else invent the things that come from your mind. Even I couldn't think up of most of the things that you invented, and I'm part of one of your inventions.”

“Thank you, Digit,” Dr. Honeydew thanked me with a brief smirk. “It's nice to do follow-ups on one's work. But remember: you aren't ‘just’ an invention. The components that allow you to function are the invention. The creation of my idea was to allow everyday people to regain mobility and cognitive functioning.” He tapped his glasses as he continued. “Just because I wear glasses doesn't make me any less of a person. I am a person… I just use technology to make my performance more efficient.”

“We're very much alike, Dr. Honeydew,” I commented with a smile. “Let me be the first to say that I have been very fortunate enough to meet you.”

“And I, you,” Bunsen said, smiling back. “I hope you don't mind me asking, but I wonder if you might like to meet Kermit the Frog. True, he doesn't really own the theater. Mr. Grosse does. However, our employer does listen to Kermit with great interest. Of course, if you don't wish to, I'd understand.”

I was greatly surprised by his offer. “Me? Meet Kermit the Frog?” I repeated. “Why, I'd love to, Dr. Honeydew. When can we schedule the meeting?”

“Well, I don't wish to keep you from your companions for long,” he stated, checking his watch. “Do you have a spare five to ten minutes?”

“Oh, certainly, sir,” I eagerly replied. “I think that they've expected me to be away for part of the day, anyway, due to the repair.”

“Excellent!” the scientist grinned. “Then let us go see him.”

I followed him to the exterior of the door that led to Kermit’s office. I was very excited. Not only have I met Bunsen and Beaker, but I’d actually get to meet Kermit the Frog on the exact same day.

Dr. Honeydew poked his head inside Kermit’s office to announce our arrival. “Excuse me, Mr. Kermit, do you have a few moments?” he asked.

“This better be important, Honeydew,” the frog uttered with a frown.

“And how important it is,” the scientist responded, opening the door to let both of us inside. “Mr. Kermit, I'd like you to meet Digit.”

The famed amphibian gulped and tried to put a smile on his face as I entered the room. “Well, hello there,” he greeted before shaking my hand, “I'm Kermit the Frog -- but I guess you kinda figured that by now. So, do you know our resident scientist?”

“Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kermit, sir,” I told the famous frog, shaking his hand in return. “Yes, I am acquainted Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and Beaker as well as the Electric Mayhem. You see, I'm the keyboardist of a band called Solid Foam. My friends and I met the Electric Mayhem yesterday, and they recommended me to your chief scientist when I was experiencing a malfunction.”

“Mr. Digit's life has been saved due to one of my patented inventions,” Dr. Honeydew explained, showing the his amphibian boss the blueprints. “It's a system of circuitry that allows a person to regain mobility and cognitive functioning.”

The frog’s jaw dropped briefly in surprise. “YOU invented this?” he asked Bunsen. *looks Digit up and down, staring for several moments, letting it all sink in, scratching his head* He observed me for several moments, apparently letting it all sink in, before giving his head a scratch. “Wow,” he finally managed to say. “This is ... quite a ... surprise! So, you weren't always a robot?” he asked me.

“No, I used to be a student in a town in Illinois,” I told him. “Then, an accident happened, and the operation that saved my life turned me into what I am today.”

Kermit gave a small, forgiving nod in the direction of his chief scientist. From what events occurred earlier, I interpreted that it meant that Bunsen’s job was saved. I smiled a little to myself, glad that I was able to help out.

“Hey Kermit,” a new voice that I recognized as that of Scooter’s called into the room, “you’re wanted in the costume department for a fitting.”

“I’ll be right there,” Kermit told his assistant before the eager young go-fer headed off. “Well, I’m afraid I must go see about something,” he said to me before one last handshake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Digit.” He then glanced between Bunsen and I before speaking to me again. “I am really happy that Bunsen was able to help you out.” The frog then walked to the door, waving at us as he left. “Good luck with your band!” he called. “Maybe we’ll meet again some time.”

The two of us watched as Kermit left. “Wonderful!” Bunsen exclaimed as he patted me on the shoulder and grinned. “Oh, I'm sure he's VERY impressed with your progress, Digit!” The scientist then started to straighten up my outfit a little so I would be all ready to go. “Now, I absolutely INSIST that we meet again ... for, um, follow-up care, naturally,” he told me. “We could go to science conventions, the movies, lunch…” He cleared his throat nervously before continuing. “Of course, I, um, need to assess you in a range of ... natural interactions and locations. Yes, that's it. I do hope you'll agree to maintain contact.”

“Oh, I will sir,” I happily agreed. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Kermit, and Beaker, Dr. Honeydew.” Suddenly, I remembered my conversation with the assistant earlier and how I could understand him. Did Bunsen know something about this? “Dr. Honeydew, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course you may!” Bunsen responded eagerly.

“About the circuitry,” I questioned, “did you also design it to translate other languages?”

“Naturally!” he proudly exclaimed. “Linguistic ability is sometimes hindered when neurons are damaged. I felt it was would be unwise to merely repair such ability without improving it. I have attempted to provide a multitude of languages, including extra-terrestrial ones. You may have noticed an alien species, the Koozbanians, running around the theater. They were immensely helpful in providing alien dialects in my design.”

So, not only was I able to translate human languages, but also extra-terrestrial ones as well. “Interesting,” I commented, picking up a business card with the lab’s number on the front. “I’ll see you in the future, Dr. Honeydew!” I called over my shoulder before I left the facility with a smile on my face.

Yes, that was most excellent, a great homage before Father's Day. I also hope Bunsen and Digit can keep in touch.

I cannot wait to read more of this story, C9000....this is an awesome story.

Interesting interaction between two of Dave Goelz's greatest characters. Next time it's be great to have an intereaction between gonzo and digit, I'm sure they'd get on pretty fine, both misunderstood weirdos trying to find out more about themselves.

just bumping this up so as not to get lost in the hubbub.

Very nice, Cait! I just got caught up and I really enjoyed it. The character relations are really interesting--I really like how Bunsen relates with Digit. That's good to see. Good stuff!

Chapter 16

When the late spring of 1978 came around, we were back in Kansas on a break. Since we were touring for such a long time, we desperately needed the break time. It was great to kick back and relax in a place that we felt welcome at and were greatly familiar with. After all, a little vacation can be good for you, right?

Well, too much of a good thing is also bad for you.

Right away, we seemed to miss being in the spotlight. Sure, we wanted to relax, but there was a feeling of stillness in the air. Boredom was easy to come since there was nothing much to do in that town, so we all took up different hobbies.

Francine took up the subject of drawing, something that she only rarely did before on scraps of paper. The drawings started out small at first, but soon they began to expand into projects. Alas, almost all of her work was done in vain. As a result, many wastebaskets were filled to the brim with paper basketballs.

Flash, who was by now Francine’s steady boyfriend, had a hobby of fantasizing. Mostly, he pretended that he was Luke Skywalker, saving the galaxy from the evil Imperial Empire. With his light saber in hand, he battled Storm Troopers and knocked over many lamps. (I blame myself for getting him into the franchise, actually. It was my idea to drag them all to see the original movie that came out the previous year.)

Clifford and Leon decided to become more active at night. Instead off donning costumes and fighting crime, they went to nightclubs to get more excitement. With that being said, they were usually tired when they came back at daybreak and hardly wanted to do anything else but eat and sleep.

Beard had decided to pass his talents down to younger generations. He opened up a small business where he gave guitar lessons to younger children for a reasonable price. I had the opportunity to check out a few of his classes, and his students played pretty well.

Lindbergh went back to his steady job as a repairman. Since it was getting close to summertime, a lot of people in town needed their cooling systems to be fixed, so my friend was definitely hard at work. When he wasn’t working, he usually was with me, drawing up plans to build a model of either the Millennium Falcon or the U.S.S. Enterprise. (We never could figure out which to build.)

As for me, I took up the side interest in photography. I had temporarily abandoned the hobby thanks to the accident, but by that time I was eager to take pictures of any interesting subject that caught my eye. It seemed as if I could never be seen without a camera on hand, so I kept one on a neck strap just in case of a perfect picture moment.

On a particularly uneventful day, we were all somewhat busy with our hobbies. Beard was busy teaching his 1 ‘o clock group of child guitarists how to play a few chords. Clifford was channel surfing, while Leon was rummaging through the refrigerator for a quick snack. Meanwhile, Francine was trying to paint when she wasn’t trying to save her easel from the misadventures of the young Jedi Knight Flash Skywalker. As this was going on, Lindbergh and I were discussing what would happen if a Klingon and a Storm Trooper somehow met each other and were involved in a fight.

"I’m telling you, Lindbergh, a Klingon would win the fight," I told my friend. "They’re a brutal extra-terrestrial race that will destroy anyone or anything that gets in their way."

"But the Storm Troopers have those laser guns," the kiwi argued. "Besides, they attack in groups."

"So do Klingons," I argued back.

Before the conversation could become too in depth, the phone started to ring. (Thank goodness it rang when it did or the argument would’ve never been settled.)

"I’ll get it," I called out to the others, picking up the receiver. "Hello, this is Digit, the keyboardist of Solid Foam. May I ask who’s calling?"

"Um, this is Kermit the Frog," the voice on the other end responded, "news reporter for Sesame Street Newsflash and host of The Muppet Show."

My eyes almost lit up in surprise. "Kermit!" I exclaimed. "But… how did you get this number?"

"Well, y’see, Bunsen’s kept a track on all the numbers that you’ve called him from," the frog responded, "and this seemed like a reliable number that we could reach you at the time. How are things, might I ask?"

"Well..." I looked around the room once more at my fellow band members, and thought for a moment on just how we were. It was quite slow to be honest, and we were hoping to have perhaps found some work together, but that seemed far off. "...we’re not doing much right now," I commented to him.

"Try doing nothing of importance," Francine deadpanned to me.

Kermit heard Francine on the line and laughed a little. "So, I take it that you are all in need of a job right about now, am I right?"

"Oh, certainly, Mr. the Frog," I gushed, happy to have heard the mention of a job once more. Sitting around and going on about Star Wars and Star Trek was getting old and fast.

"But, I’m not sure about the other guys. They might not be up to doing anything..." Having said that, everyone looked up at me now, noticing I mentioned them.

"Doing what, Digit?" Clifford asked, looking over his ever-present sunglasses at myself.

Flash put down his light saber, and Francine her paintbrushes; Leon and Clifford came away from the TV and came over towards me, awaiting what I had to say about Kermit’s call.

Kermit "hmm"ed a little, and stated quite simply "I need some extras for the end of our movie, The Muppet Movie."

"The Muppet Movie?" I repeated, a little in disbelief. "You just need some extras?"

"A movie?" Leon piped up, his expression reading a little more into an area which I knew wasn’t appropriate. "Like, are there girls in this movie?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Leon," Francine muttered, rolling her eyes behind her pair of sunglasses.

"Actually, not only am I in need of extras," Kermit continued, "but I also need your help."

"Sure, we can help you," I told him. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, we’re looking for a group of Muppets that haven’t been seen or heard from in a while," the frog explained, "and we need you to find them and take them to us in California. Have you ever heard of the Land of Gorch?"

I blinked for a split second in confusion. The Land of… what did he say, Gawrsh? I thought to myself. Wait, like Goofy? "… you mean, we’re going to Disneyland?" I asked the frog on the other end.

Kermit went silent for a few moments before speaking up again. "No, you’re going to New York," he clarified.

"But Disneyland isn’t in New York…" My voice trailed off as I tried to think of an explanation for all of this. "Ooh, maybe Goofy and his friends are in New York to fill out paperwork to be in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade," I stated after I thought of a solution. "I’ve always wanted to go to that…"

A moment of awkward silence followed, during which my friends gave me weird looks. Even a faint sound of a flipper hitting a forehead could be heard from the other end of the line.

"Not ‘Gawrsh’," Kermit told me with a hint of annoyance in his voice, "‘Gorch!" He even repeated it: "Gorch! Gorch! G-O-R-C-H! GORCH!"

"Oh, Gorch!" I exclaimed with realization. "That’s right, the Land of Gorch!" I quickly turned to the others. "Guys, what’s the Land of Gorch?" I asked them.

"The Land of Gorch," Leon responded, "is the planet where I own a very expensive mansion. Oh, and there’s these smokin’ hot girls in bikinis, and money. I own a money pool on Gorch."

"I thought it was a Storm Trooper base," Flash stated.

"It is not!" Kermit exclaimed in response to Leon. "True, it is a planet in another galaxy, but the Land of Gorch was a sketch on Saturday Night Live."

"Wait a minute," Clifford interjected, "if that was on Saturday Night Live, how come we weren’t aware of it?"

"Well, it’s because the sketch was cancelled about halfway through the first season," the frog answered.

"Okay, Kermit," I said excitedly to the frog, "we'll be right on it." Then I hung up before he could say another word. Immediately after the call ended, I started to pack all the necessary items for the trip to New York. "Why are you all standing around for?" I asked the others. "We’ve got to pack for the trip to New York!"

~~~

By an astounding coincidence, both Clifford and Leon happened to know some of the cast members of Saturday Night Live from their nights at the clubs. The former even had John Belushi’s phone number and called him for directions to the building. When he explained our purpose of going to the Big Apple, the SNL cast member seemed to be very happy about us coming and told us to pick up the Gorch cast members.

After all of us had packed and the directions were written down, we stopped to get a quick bite to eat. Then, it was off to New York for the trip of the year.

"Okay, now take a left at the stoplight and go until you reach Rockefeller Center," Clifford directed to Lindbergh after we reached New York City after several hours. "He said that they should be waiting for us there."

We did eventually reach Rockefeller Center by late afternoon. After the long trip, we expected to see a group of Muppets welcoming us. Instead, all we saw were a two tied-up filing cabinets out by the curb with the garbage.

Lindbergh parked the car and we all filed out to investigate. On one of the cabinets was a note addressed to us. I retrieved the note and handed it to Clifford so he could read it to us.

"‘Dear Clifford and friends,’" the bass player read, "‘Thank you so much for coming here and ridding us of those--’" He paused, double-checking to see what a few words said. "… anyway… ‘They’ve been around here for too long and have worn out their welcome,’" he continued. "‘We’ll thank you guys for this later. From your friend, John Belushi.’"

"Dang," Francine spoke up after the reading was over, "were they that bad?"

"I think that they’re…" I pointed to the filing cabinets. "… I think they’re in there," I whispered to the group nervously.

Sure enough, the cabinets started to rattle and grumbling could be heard from inside. Five file containers (marked "Ploobis", "Petua", "Scred", "Wisss", and "Vazh") were trying to open themselves up, but were held back in place due to the ropes.

"Come on," Lindbergh told us, "let’s untie the ropes." All of us hurried to untie the ropes and to free whatever was in there. After a few minutes of labor, our efforts were rewarded as the ropes fell off of the cabinets.

The shelves suddenly sprang forward, and the creatures that appeared from them nearly scared me half to death.

"Greetings, lowly commoners!" one of the creatures (who was wearing what appeared to be a Viking helmet) exclaimed. "I, King Ploobis, the almighty, the most worthy, the most…"

"The most loud-mouthed, the most ignorant, the biggest tub of lard," another creature, this one female, added.

"Thank you, dear," Ploobis said to the creature who was apparently his wife.

"I'm surprised you could squeeze out of that filing cabinet without breaking it," the queen commented.

One of the creatures whispered something to Leon about something about smoke. From the sound of him, he probably was a hippie.

"We’re free? We’re free!" yet another one of the creatures exclaimed. Then he started to grovel at my feet. "Oh thank you, kind sirs!"

"Uh… you’re welcome?" I replied to him. Suddenly, I felt quite uncomfortable around these people.

"Ooh, the city looks so beautiful," a female creature admired the city. "Let’s go shopping!" she exclaimed and started to wander off.

Clifford put his arms around her to prevent her from leaving. "Just think of the fancy Hollywood threads you could get your lovely little mittens on, baby," he told her.

"Hollywood?" the girl gasped. "That sounds so glamorous!"

"The fame," agreed one of the male creatures.

"The money," Ploobis added.

"The parties, the glamour!" the queen exclaimed.

"And the scandals," the hippie stated, "don't forget about the scandals."

There was a pause between the Gorch group. "What about Hollywood?" Ploobis asked.

"We got ya a gig," Beard said to the group.

"It's time to leave the cheap nightly weekend cesspool of lameness and strike a pose in front of cinema greatness!" Leon exclaimed.

"To heck with all of that!" Ploobis suddenly yelled (paraphrased). "Let’s all go clubhopping!"

The other Gorch members reluctantly agreed with their king. As for myself, I felt a sudden jolt of nervousness, and my face (and myself) became emotionless.

"Come on, you guys," Clifford told the Gorch group, "we need to get you guys to Hollywood, pronto!"

"And what if we refuse to do it, huh?" Ploobis argued.

I stepped up behind the king, emotionless, and used that opportune moment to give him a Vulcan nerve pinch. Ploobis immediately fell unconscious to the sidewalk. The others stared at me, both amazed (the band) and fearful (the Gorch group).

"Live long and prosper," I said, saluting to them.

"Digit, why did you do that?" Lindbergh asked me, still shocked.

"Jim, Edith Keeler must die," I stated to no one in particular. Then I gazed at the servant girl suspiciously.

The girl blinked. "What did I do?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing, sweet thing," Leon said, putting an arm around her. "Come on, let’s get you to the car…"

With that, everyone started to head back to the car, Lindbergh and the male creature carrying Ploobis to the back pf the vehicle. I followed them, my face still emotionless.

"No one has ever done that to his royal pain before," the creature commented as he and my kiwi friend set the king down in the back. "Maybe he could teach me that…"

"I have tried, Captain," I said to him before assuming my seat in the car.

"Boy, this is gonna be one heck of a road trip," I heard Clifford mutter after everyone had loaded up into the car. He then turned on the ignition and we were off to Hollywood.

Very nice! Good to see that they're getting the Gorch gang together--and a road trip? Sweeeeet... I'm excited!

The one that I (Digit) described as a hippie is Wisss. The other one is Scred. And no, I didn't forget the Mighty Favog. He just didn't appear in the Rainbow Connection finale in TMM.

... oops.

*bumpity*

Just bumping this fine tale upwards so it dosn't get lost in the fray.

"Urngh, what hit me?" Ploobis asked groggily as he woke up from the nerve pinch I gave him earlier. As he began to rub his neck, he seemed to start remembering the previous events and became angry. "Scred!" He grabbed his lackey by the throat. "Scred, I coulda been killed!"

"I understand, your grouchiness," the creature now known as Scred managed to choke out.

"I’ll sue them, Scred!" the king ranted on. "I’ll sue them all! Starting with the guy that almost killed me! I’ll get them!" he roared, starting to spring forward after us.

He suddenly collapsed to the floor thanks to the nerve pinch that his wife gave him. "What can I say?" the queen stated after he was unconscious. "I’m a quick study."

As for me, I just raised my (nonexistent) eyebrow as a response while Lindbergh continued to work on me in the car. The Vulcan in me had still not ceased to leave as the car traveled down the road to Hollywood.

It seemed as if all of us were doing our own thing at the moment. Clifford was driving, and Beard was listening to the radio. Flash and the hippie, Wisss, were playing cards, while Francine was comfortably snuggled up against her boyfriend, trying to take a nap. Leon was busy flirting with Vazh, the servant girl. Scred, after gasping for air, was trying to start a sing-along. The queen was trying to read a book, and her husband was still knocked out cold.

As Lindbergh continued to repair me, I felt the need to speak. "Space, the final frontier," I began.

"Oh no, not this again," I heard Clifford mutter.

"These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise," I continued. "Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations…"

"To boldly go where no man has gone before," the others recited with me, most of them half-heartedly.

"We get it!" Francine suddenly exclaimed in exasperation. "You’re a Star Trek fan! You’re also a Star Wars fan, a sci-fi fan, and a geek!" She then lied back down, trying to fall asleep again.

"Hey, Digit, good news," Lindbergh told me, "I think I’ve fixed you!" He then flipped a switch. "That oughta do it!"

"I really don't see how that is going to help!" I argued in C-3PO’s voice. "Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances! The Empire may be gracious enough to…"
Lindbergh quickly flipped another switch. "Oops," he said, "maybe not…"

Scred crawled over to the seat to the empty place beside me. "Why not cross that wire with that jack over there?" he advised.

"It wasn't my fault, sir, please don't deactivate me," I apologized. "I told him not to go, but he's faulty, malfunctioning. Kept babbling on about his mission."

"I don't think that'd be a good idea for now," the bird said to the creature with concern.

"Hey guys," Clifford called to the back seats, "we’re taking a pit stop in the town up ahead. If you need to go to the bathroom or buy some snacks for the road, now’s your chance."

"Hey, my darlin’ Petua," King Ploobis said to his wife, waking up again, "what’s happening? You know, I’m not up to speed on this world yet. In fact, I felt like I’ve been hit with a ton of bricks. Maybe we can explore the universe together, huh?"

"We'll never reach an Earth base with him aboard," I told Clifford emotionlessly, referring to the king that just regained consciousness. "You heard the mathematics of it. In a month, he'll have as much in common with us as we'd have with a ship full of white mice."

Queen Petua was apparently amused that she could make her kingly husband say different phrases like I could. So, as a result, she nerve pinched him for the rest of the trip, making a game out of it.

The car then pulled up to a gas station and a convenience store and almost everyone filed out of the car to fill up the gas tank, go to the bathroom, or buy snacks for the road. Pretty soon, all that were left in the car were myself, Lindbergh, Scred, and the unconscious King Ploobis.

"I’m gonna go inside to buy us some snacks," Lindbergh told me, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. "I’ll see you when I get back!" With that, he left for the convenience store, leaving me alone with Ploobis and Scred.

At that very moment, the king was startled awake. "Don't eat the kitten!" he shouted.

Scred stared at him in confusion. "Your Majesty?"

The king looked over at his lackey in relief. "Oh, Scred," he said, "I had the most awful dream ... we need to talk to the Mighty Favog."

"But, Your Highness, he's not in the car," the creature servant pointed out.

"I KNOW he's not in the car!" Ploobis exclaimed as he strangled Scred. "We need to call him up!"

The Gorch servant started to think. "Cell phones haven't been invented yet…" he muttered. (How Scred knew that statement, I’ll never know.) The creature suddenly got an idea. "However…" He nodded in my general direction. "…this guy is communication central! He can pick up and transmit any signal. I'm sure he can contact the Mighty Favog."

"Don't be stupid, Scred," the king told him. "What we need is some sort of device that transmits sound across a long distance." He suddenly was inspired. "Hey, I bet Digit here can contact the Mighty Favog!"

His servant sighed in exasperation. "You're a genius, Your thick-headedness," he congratulated half-heartedly.

"Of course I am," Ploobis said with a smirk as he bowed.

I should’ve spoke up during the conversation in protest. But, all that came out of my mouth before they advanced on me was, "A force that could hurl us 990.7 light-years away and at that distance still be able to sabotage our main source of energy will not be waiting around to be taken into custody."

"Yeah, yeah, hold still," King Ploobis said to me before he and Scred started to fiddle around with my controls.

After several broadcasting stations (including some in various foreign languages) were relayed to them, a gong sounded and I went through a major voice and personality change. "DIS IS THE MIGHTY FAVOG," I greeted them in a mystical voice which was very much unlike my own. "WHO DARES TO DISTURB MY SLUMBER?"

Ploobis raised his hand and spoke. "Hey, it's me."

"YOU?" I paused before continuing. "I THOUGHT I GOT RID OF YOU SCHMUCKS A LONG TIME AGO…"

The king of Gorch waved his hand dismissively. "Nah…"

"We were just locked away in filing cabinets for a while, that's all," the other creature spoke up.

My mystical voice from beyond let out a sigh of annoyance. "WHADDAYA WANT?"

"We wanna be rich an' famous," Ploobis plainly stated.

"Yeah, and to sing and dance and to make people happy," Scred added. After the king gave him a weird look, he continued, "It says so in the script." He then held up a script for The Muppet Movie to show Ploobis and I.

"I KNOW THE ANSWER TO DAT PROBLEM: GO TA HOLLYWOOD," I answered, "AND TAKE ME ALONG WITH YOUS."

"... oh, boy…" The king suddenly became nervous. "Well, you see, erm, tell 'im Scred," he said, pushing his lackey towards me.

"Well... we're already going to Hollywood," the servant stated meekly.

"AND YOU SCHMUCKS DIDN'T INVITE ME ALONG?" I bellowed.

"Hey, you weren’t in the filing cabinets with us!" Scred argued in defense.

"DAT'S BECAUSE NO ONE DISRESPECTS THE MIGHTY FAVOG," I told them.

"Yes, O Mighty Favog," Ploobis meekly stated as Scred hid behind them. "We know, nobody disrespects you, and we’re sorry!"

For some reason, I liked to see them like this. It was new, and I liked it. "ALL RIGHT, LISTEN UP, YOUS TWO," I finally responded in my other-worldly voice after they had been cowering for a while. "I, DA MIGHTY FAVOG, HAVE DECIDED TO BE GENEROUS AND GRANT YOUR WISH." There was a long pause afterwards, during which I chuckled a few times. "BUT IN RETURN FOR LEAVIN’ ME BEHIND, YOU MUST AGREE TO CERTAIN… CONDITIONS."

"Anything, your mystical bigness," Scred happily replied.

"Yeah, no problem," Ploobis said with a ready nod.

"GET A REAL JOB" was all that I said to them.

There was silence. The two Gorch denizens stared at me in shock, as if they didn’t even know what I had just said. And then their voices nearly shattered my eardrums a few moments later.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The two hurried to try to open the car door to get out with no avail. They tried many things to open the door, including resorting to using Scred as a battering ram. Obviously, that didn’t work.

A gong sounded again, and the spirit that was in my body left me, causing me to have a slip of consciousness. Suddenly, I felt as if I was being picked up. The sound of pattering feet could be heard underneath me. I opened my eyes just in time to see the door open and for me to be suddenly tossed out.

"Help! I think I’m melting!" I yelled in alarm as I fell out of the car. "This is all your fault!" I exclaimed, directing my angry comment towards the two aliens that were still inside the car.

Fortunately for me, I landed on something soft. It was feathery, like a pillow, and it was also a little plump. I propped myself up with my arms to see the form underneath me…

… and I came face-to-face with my best friend.

At first, neither of us spoke. It was such an awkward moment that neither of us found our voices until a little while later.

"Wow," Lindbergh commented, "this is a… weird position…"

"That position, Mr. Scott," I told the kiwi, "would not only be unavailing, but also... undignified."

"Erm, yeah," my friend agreed, trying to get out from underneath me. "This is kinda awkward…"

Both of us looked up to see that most of the others had returned from their errands and were staring at us in confusion/shock/some other weird emotion that I couldn’t figure out. Then there was a period of awkward silence, during which none of us spoke.

"Man, I don’t even wanna know," Wisss stated, breaking the silence.

"You said it," Leon agreed as he put an arm around Vazh. "C’mon, Vazh baby, let’s get in the car."

Everyone then started to climb into the car as if nothing had happened. Lindbergh and I stood up, both red from embarrassment, and took our seats in the car. "We’re going to look back at this years from now and laugh," I whispered to him. (I still don’t find it funny.)

Before Clifford turned on the ignition, a familiar mystical voice from beyond sounded throughout the entire vehicle. "DIS IS DA MIGHTY FAVOG," it announced, "REMINDIN’ YOUS GUYS AND GALS TO BUCKLE UP. THE TRIP TO HOLLYWOOD IS GONNA BE BUMPY."

"Hold up!" Clifford interrupted. "How do you know this? We’re hardly even halfway there."

"YOU DARE QUESTION THE MIGHTY FAVOG?" the voice asked our bass player.

"What is this, anyway?" Clifford looked back at me. "Digit, did you pick up another psychic radio show again?"

I shook my head frantically. "I think you better listen to what he says, though," I told him. "This guy sounds serious."

"DANG RIGHT, I AM," the voice of the Mighty Favog responded (paraphrased). "IF YOUS DON’T SHUT UP," he told Clifford, "I’LL PLACE A CURSE ON YOUS."

"Oh yeah?" Clifford asked. "Like what?"

"YOU WILL BE ON TWO OF THEM NEW MUPPET SHOWS IN THE FUTURE," the mystical voice from beyond predicted. "BOTH OF THEM WILL BE CANCELLED."

"… yeah," our bass player said nonchalantly, "like that will ever--"

"SHUT UP!" the voice interrupted. "THE MIGHTY FAVOG HAS SPOKEN. NOW BUCKLE UP AND TURN THE CAR ON."

All of us obeyed what the voice said (even Clifford) and we all waited as our driver turned on the ignition.

"HOLD ONTO YOUR HATS," the all-mighty booming voice announced, "IT’S GONNA BE A BUMPY RIDE."

Suddenly, the car drove itself forward into a portal that magically appeared in front of us. Inside the portal, all sorts of colors swirled around the vehicle as it made its high-speed journey through the strange and magical portal.

Everyone was hanging on for their lives, either to each other (in Francine and Flash‘s case, as well as Leon and Vazh’s) or to the seats (basically, the rest of us). In fact, the only one that stayed perfectly calm through all of this was Wisss. When I glanced over at him, the hairy creature was just sitting there with a spaced-out look on his face, just as calm as can be.

Up ahead, the swirling tunnel of the lava lamp colors opened up to a street. "THIS IS YOUR STOP," the voice finally announced. "THANK YOU FOR TRAVELIN’ WITH ME, THE MIGHTY FAVOG. AND, UH, DON’T FORGET ABOUT OUR AGREEMENT, YOUS TWO," he added before a gong sounded.

Both Ploobis and Scred gulped. They obviously did not want the results of what was going to happen after the trip.

That was hilarious. Great job!

LOL! You're a fantastic writer, Cait! =3 Pleash add mo' soon.