A Robotic Heart

Chapter 20

"Lindbergh, I’m sorry for having you doing this," I apologized to my friend, who was currently driving me to the building where I was supposed to audition at.

"Aw, it’s okay, Digit," the kiwi replied. "I always give you lifts to and from work. It’s no big deal."

"No, what I mean is…" A sigh escaped my throat. With this new, strange voice that I had, it was kind of difficult to express my emotions.

"Something wrong, Digit?" Lindbergh asked.

"Well, it’s just that it doesn’t seem fair that I’m the only one out of all of us who’s going to audition for this project," I explained. "I’m afraid that you guys might be upset because you don’t get a chance."

"The others won’t be upset," my best friend reassured me. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you, Digit. In fact, we’ll all be cheering you on." He pulled into the parking lot and found a space to drop me off. "Just try your best. I know you can do it."

"Thank you, Lindbergh," I said with a smile as I stepped out of the car. "I’ll call you all with the results."

"Okay, see you when I pick you up!" With the closing of the passenger door, he drove off to get back to the rest of the band.

I turned around and faced the double doors that lead to the inside. Taking a deep breath, I calmed my nerves down and stepped onto the tiled floors of the interior of the building.

I had little difficulty finding the waiting room. (There were signs that guided me to the waiting room door.) As I stepped in, I noticed right away that this was one of the most strangest assemblages that I had ever seen in my life. There were mechanics, punk rockers, big haired people, musicians, people with many decorative piercing items on their body… and that was just to name about a half of them!

I saw an empty seat next to a woman with pink hair and silver skin and decided to sit down. At first, I just looked around, glancing at all that were gathered. Then, something told me that I should make some conversation with at least one person here. After all, I could make a new friend.

Before I could find someone to talk to, the woman next to me spoke up. "Ello dere, mon. Whey yuh name?"

I was puzzled at first, but I managed to make out a majority of the words. "Oh, my name. My name is Digit. And yours?"

A wide grin formed on her face, and she pointed to herself as she talked. "Maya. I 'ope ta get a job 'ere."

"What a coincidence," I replied with a smile. "I'm trying out for a job here, too. What do you hope to get?"

"Well, I 'ope ta get somet'ing in de way of musical direction." Maya shrugged and added, "I can play de guitar an' stuff too, so, dere's dat."

"Very interesting, Maya," I commented. "I'm a musician myself, you know. I play the keyboards. Maybe we'll end up working together."

"Whoa, mon, dat's bad!" she exclaimed with a grin.

Based on her tone of voice and facial expression, I interpreted that what Maya said was a good thing. "Thank you! You know, it is very nice to meet a fellow musician."

Maya laughed and patted me on the back. "You di first one I meet ta get dat bad is good," she told me. "'Ope ya get di job, mon. Can't wait ta work wit' you."

"Likewise," I stated with a smile.

"Meh, look at ya…" a deep voice suddenly spoke up. "I'm a real man! Ain't no way you can experience anythin' worth livin' for like that."

Maya and I searched until we saw a old, bald drummer staring at me. "… I beg your pardon, sir?" I asked him, trying to be polite.

"Yer computer chip-a-ma-whatzits not compute, wire-head?" he questioned me. "I said yer nothin' but a VCR!"

I’ve never been the one to get involved in fights. In fact, I usually stay far away from them. Still, this elderly man was insulting my state of being, and I had to defend it. "At least a VCR is useful," I told the man, standing up and narrowing my eyes. "At least a VCR works. I bet the last time you were employed, you rode a brontosaurus to work. What was it like chipping rocks for Slate?"

"I'll show ya what a real man can do!" the man cried in anger. Before I could speak again, the man swung at my jaw with his fist and hit his target. I stumbled, trying to regain my balance but to no avail.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" I heard a male voice yell repeatedly. He was obviously enjoying the drummer’s and my fight so much that he wanted more.

After rubbing my sore jaw, I came to my feet and would’ve been knocked down again if a blonde male didn’t step in between us. He separated us and pushed each of us in chairs that were on opposite sides of the room. I don’t know how the drummer felt afterwards, but I know that there was a jolt through my entire body when I hit the chair.

The blonde male dusted off his hands. "And that’s where violence will get you," he simply stated.

"Cease and sekkle!" Maya added, standing up from her chair.

"Hey listen," the man suddenly said to Maya, "if you’re not busy this week, how about you and me getting together sometime?"

The pink-haired girl grinned. "Come yah…" She pulled the blonde close to her like she was about to kiss him and then slapped him. "Stupid lagga head bwoy! As if I would jus' fall down an' worship di groun' you walk on!"

Without warning, the door that (supposedly) led to the auditioning room flung open. Hurrying out was a certain famous amphibian, who looked like he needed to be somewhere else in a jiffy. Scurrying after him was a red-haired girl with glasses, who I presumed to be his assistant for the auditioning process.

"Mister Kermit," she called after him, stopping at the door leading out into the hallway, "what about all of these people? They’re here for the auditions!"

A screech could be heard and the sound of flippers came running back into the room, followed by the appearance of Kermit the Frog. "I’m sorry, everyone," he apologized to the group. "I’ll move this process along in the fastest way I know possible…" The frog then pointed at two mechanics. "You, you," -- he pointed at a man with metal pierced into his face -- "you," -- he pointed to the blonde man -- "you," -- he pointed to Maya -- "you," -- he pointed to me -- "you," -- and finally he pointed to the elderly drummer -- "and you. You’re all hired! Work starts tomorrow at 6 AM. I’ll see you all there!" He then resumed his dash out the door.

I blinked. What just happened? I thought to myself. Was I hired on the spot?

"Meh… it’s better than unemployment, I guess," the drummer shrugged.

"Dat’s a relief," Maya sighed, glad that she now had a job.

The blonde male punched his fist into the air. "Righteous, man!"

Maya, the drummer and I then started to take our leave. "Wait, guys! Come back!" the blonde man called to us. Before any of us could answer, we were pulled back into the room. "Isn’t this great? We’re totally a band now! We should celebrate!"

"Don’t t’ink dis is a date, mon," Maya scoffed, getting out of the man’s grasp, "‘cause dere ain’t no way I’d go out wit’ you."

"Yeah, whatever. ‘Long as you got some Bud on ya," the drummer replied.

As for myself, I had to think about it for a while. Of course I wanted to accept the offer, but there was the issue with my voice. Would it be okay for me to speak around them like that? (I knew Maya had already accepted me with my new voice, but still…)

"Hey robo-dude," the blonde began, snapping me out of my daze, "are you in?"

"It’s Digit, actually," I said in my new, robotic voice. "I’d be more than happy to go with you all."

"Awesome!" the male responded. "The name’s Duke. Nice to be working with you."

~~~

As much as I try not to remember it, the party still lingers in the back of my mind. Everyone was having a good time, of course, but something felt wrong to me. It was as if something was nagging me on about how I shouldn’t be there.

"Somet’ing wrong, Digit?"

Without looking up, I answered the person who questioned me. "No, nothing’s wrong with me, Maya. I’m just thinking to myself is all."

"Dat so, mon?" she asked, sitting beside me at the table. "Come on now, the i kyan tell your bredren Maya."

I glanced over at the pink-haired woman. "I really hope you don't think I'm being rude or anything," I told her, "but ... well ... I confess I'm afraid."

"Oh?"

I nodded and began to express my concerns. "You see, I have friends who have been with me for a long time, who know my capabilities and some of the issues I have occasionally. None of you know me." I looked over at the old drummer, who was lying down on a table. "And, to be quite sincere, I really don't think I can be comfortable around that guy. It's like he hates me just because of what I am."

"Don' worry 'bout him, mon," she told me. "Dose dat don' wanna be a team playah don' las' lon'."

"Of course, he has a right to his opinions…" I noted, my voice trailing off.

"But ju gotta right ta be ju," Maya told me. "He don' gotta like it. If he truly don' like it, da frog can shew him da door. We're not a ban', mon," she added. "We're jus' playahs tryin' ta make a buck." She then patted me on the shoulder. "When ju were first startin' out ... were you a ban'?"

"I was accepted unconditionally…" I replied, thinking about my acceptance into the band.

The silver-skinned woman shook her head. "No, mon. Dat's not what I'm sayin'. Did di rhythm move ya? Was dere harmony at first?"

Remembering all the work I had to go through and the advice that Dr. Teeth gave me a decade ago, I answered, "Well, I had to practice…"

Maya nodded. "So do we all, mon. A good musician has ta keep up wit' a change in de tempo."

"I see," I replied pensively.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Duke head for the stage and whisper something to the leader of the band. With a nod, he motioned the band to start playing. The song that they played was familiar to me, but I forgot the title.

"Everyone's watching, to see what you will do," the blonde sang as the band played back-up."Everyone's looking at you, oh. Everyone's wondering, will you come out tonight? Everyone's trying to get it right, get it right."

"Everybody's working for the weekend," the band sang along. "Everybody wants a little romance. Everybody's goin' off the deep end. Everybody needs a second chance, oh."

"You want a piece of my heart?" Duke sang out, looking directly at Maya, who hid her face in her hands out of embarrassment. "You better start from start. You wanna be in the show? Come on baby lets go!"

~~~

The next day, work for InnerTube officially started. Everyone was in high spirits that day, including the (unofficial) band and I. We were in our part of the studio, performing for Kermit so that he might see how we all sound together.

"Everyone's looking to see if it was you," Duke, the bass player sang."Everyone wants you to come through. Everyone's hoping it'll all work out. Everyone's waiting they're holding out!"

"Everybody's working for the weekend," he and Maya dueted. "Everybody wants a little romance. Everybody's goin' off the deep end. Everybody needs a second chance, oh."

"You want a piece of my heart?" the blonde sang solo. "You better start from start. You wanna be in the show? Come on baby lets go!"

There was an instrumental break in between the next few parts. The four of us managed to play through it with ease until it was time for Maya and Duke to sing again.

"You want a piece of my heart? You better start from start. You wanna be in the show? Come on baby lets go. You want a piece of my heart? You better start from start. You wanna be in the show? Come on baby lets go!"

The song ended and Kermit gave a nod of approval. "That was terrific, everyone!" he congratulated us. "Okay," the frog continued, clasping his hands, "let's all take five and then we'll get to work on rehearsing the theme song I need from you." With that, he left the room.

As soon as the amphibian departed, we all moved away from our instruments and began our short break. One of the first things that Duke did was try to ask Maya out on a date for the umpteenth time. Obviously, that didn’t go over too well for him as he was slapped in the face again. The female spent the rest of her break as far away from him as possible.

As for myself, I took the time to contemplate about a number of things. I remembered the creation that I had worked so hard on and its near completion. I also remembered my friends, who were probably curious about my whereabouts. With the intent to call them, I strolled out into the hall and towards the pay phone.

Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was already being used by the drummer.

Almost immediately, I backed up around the corner so that he wouldn’t notice me. I did not want a repeat of the previous day’s events. Surprisingly, he didn’t even seem to know of my existence as he was arguing with someone over the phone.

I didn’t want to stay around long enough to figure out who he was talking to in fear of him beating me up again. So, I hastened back to the room and decided to play a few tunes on the keyboard. (I’ve never played "Bennie and the Jets" that fast ever again in my life.)

Before I knew it, the break was over and all of us had filed back into the room again. I had studied the music earlier and noted that the theme song started out with both the percussion and the keyboards playing. Um… what a joy!

"Okay, gang, let’s do this thing!" Duke exclaimed after all of us were situated again. "A-one, a-two, a-one, two, three, four--"

~~~

Surprisingly, filming started off smoothly, with no accidents or fights breaking out. The drummer and I played through the intro just fine. Duke and Maya then began to sing on cue.

"See see what you can do on the TV. Well it’s me, me watching you, you looking at me. Everybody watchin’, everywhere. Everybody…"

"You’re on the air!" Duke sang solo.

Even the drummer had a voice in this. "I say--"

"See see what you can do on the TV," Duke and Maya dueted.

"You know it’s--"

"Me, me watching you, you looking at me."

"I mean--"

"See see what you can do on the TV."

"You know it’s--"

"Me, me watching you, you looking at me. Everybody watchin’ you and me. Everybody watchin’ Inner Tube TV!"

We continued to play our instruments for quite some time. Once, we heard Kermit speak and looked in the direction where we thought we heard his voice come from. It turned out that we were facing the wrong way, though. Still, we continued to rehearse.

Everything was running along smoothly. No mistakes or unforeseen disasters, just the "band" rehearsing. It was all perfect.

Of course, that all changed when the two mechanics, Jake and Henry, were zapped into our channel.

"Jake! Henry! We’re trying to rehearse!" Duke exclaimed at the sudden interruption.

"Somet’in’ wron’, guys?" Maya asked them.

"Nuttin’, no problem," Jake responded, "a possible misalignment in the transponder matrix."

"Transponder problems?" I repeated them. Then, I did what I consider to be the most idiotic thing that I’ve ever done to myself -- trying to get a charge by sticking an active wire plug into my mouth. "Oh, I hate when that happens…"

"Anyone seen Glitch?" Henry piped up nervously.

With a shrug, I resumed playing my keyboard without a care in the world as Duke spoke up, exasperated. "Come on guys, let’s rehearse."

"What's dis, suddenly you're in charge?" the female guitarist questioned the bass player as I leaned over the side of the keyboard to retch quietly. The after taste of the shock was terrible.

"Maya, when there is a leadership gap, someone must fill it," Duke explained as I resumed playing.

I paused as I listened to Maya speak. "But Duke, you’ve got a brain gap and no one fills dat," she countered. I silently agreed with her. Duke could be a little dense at times…

The drummer startled us all by doing the "ba-doom-ch!" drum roll like in the comedy routines. He chuckled at our surprised expressions.

"Don’t follow leaders," I dispensed knowledge, "watch your parking meters." Looking back, I’ve realized that the sentence that I said was one of the weirdest things to come out of my mouth.

"You got it, Digit!" the pink-haired woman encouraged me before turning back to the mechanics. "Now, kyan i help, Jake?"

"No no no, just a glitch in the system," Jake said. "Come on, Henry." Then the cube that they were in rolled out of the studio.

"Big deal," the drummer deadpanned as they left.

"Live it or live with it," I added.

"Well, yeah, I mean look at us," the blonde stated. "We do just fine and we’re surrounded by technology. Smash cuts, chroma keys, slow-mo, rotoscoping…"

"Eight bar hooks," Maya joined in, "low-funk retro rock…"

"Digital modulation wash…" Forget what I said earlier. This was the weirdest thing that came out of my mouth that day.

"Paradiddle flamadiddle," the drummer stated, using a drum stick to scratch his back.

"Flamadiddle?" Duke pondered right before a heavily-pierced man came barging into the studio through the wall behind the bass player.

"Explooooooo-sions!" The man laughed and ran away.

"Explosions have nothing to do with technology!" Duke scolded him.

Suddenly, the studio seemed to rip apart. For a while, we could hear nothing but a different man explaining what I think to believe was his version on why technology was a bad thing. Go figure.

Eventually, things turned back to normal and Jake and Henry punched all the regular channels back up. "Why can’t he stay in his own channel?" I heard Henry ask about the man from before.

"He doesn’t have one," Jake answered.

He punched up the channel that had my aghast expression. "A man without a channel?" I quizzically stated, not believing it.

I didn’t get a response back, so I just shrugged and went about my business. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the drummer staring at me, almost as if he was thinking about some painful memory. Taking a deep breath, I decided to settle our fighting once and for all.

"… I don't get it," I stated, staring back at him. "Why do you dislike me so much? Was it something that I did?"

"You don't get it 'cause yer a movin' computer now," he told me. "You stopped bein' a man long ago." There was a pause for a few moments. "An' I know what machines do ta men."

This caused me to become greatly confused. "Well, what do they do?"

The elderly man looked away and answered my question. "They rip yer soul out an' then ya die."

I didn’t respond to him. How could I when he thought of technology as a serial killer?

The drummer glared at me as he continued. "I watched my kid get plugged up ta more an' more doodads ta keep him alive. He couldn't even open his eyes or hear us anymore… but his heart was bein' run by some dadburned beepin' thingamajig. The doctor said those machines would help, but he died anyway! You think yer alive now? Pffbt. You can't even get t'rough the day wit'out munchin' on some spark plugs." He nodded before he added, "You'll wear out, just like my Pinto. Mark my words… machines can't save no one."

"Well, science has learned a great deal since then," I told him, hoping to lighten the situation.

"Peh," he retorted, "that’s not gonna bring my son back."

I pondered the subject for a while. Finally, my jumbled up mind came up with a response. "Would your son be happy with a lifetime of bitterness or would he want you to support technology so people can get more help than he got?"

This made the drummer think for a while. "… but does it help you?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Yes. I would be dead without technology. At least this way I have a fighting chance."

"But what kind of life do you have?"

A sigh escaped my throat as I responded to him. "The same life you do ... a life filled with a traumatic past and struggles just to get through each day without giving up."

He quietly nodded as an answer, shrugged, and walked off.

After that talk, it was near time to do the closing number. I didn’t know how I continued after that speech, but I did somehow. Maya went to get the drummer back (he was in the break room) and we started the finale without a problem.

Unfortunately, I can’t remember all the words to that song to this day. It was something about laser beams and holograms and being trapped. Oh well, at least I had a chance to play the keytar.

We all filed out of the studio at the end of it all and called it a day. I was feeling weary from it all, so I looked around for the break room to no avail. Finally, I noticed a curly-haired female who could show me the way. "Excuse me, miss."

She turned her head towards me to reveal that she was wearing glasses. "Hmm? Oh, hello!" the girl greeted with a smile. "How may I help you?"

"Can you please point me in the direction of the break room?"

"Sure," the woman pointed in a direction. "Right this way."

"Thank you." I took a single step forward and found myself blacking out, my body crashing against the cold, hard floor.

The last thing I head as I passed out was a desperate cry from the girl. "Mister Kermit! Somebody, please help!" Then there were footsteps, and then, darkness.

Oooooh ... the suspense builds! What a surprise to have Vicki here! Okay, time for the next chapter

Good stuff, Cait! It's all coming together very well. I like how you dealt with the pilot. Very impressive. Can't wait to see more!

Chapter 21

The last time I was in the hospital, I was alone. Nobody knew that I existed and all the medical staff were treating me like a scientific wonder. Everyone else thought that I was dead. For a while, I had trouble doing daily activities because of my constant glitching until I met Lindbergh, who had been my best friend ever since.

I obviously didn’t know what to expect after I passed out like I did. Thinking about it now, I might’ve caused worry in the workers in the studio. Someone most likely called the hospital and had an ambulance come to take me to the operating room. Dr. Honeydew was probably alerted about the situation and came over to help the doctors prepare an operation to fix me up.

For the longest time, I could only see darkness and hear only silence. Gradually, though, I started to hear the faint sounds of beeping machinery and people talking amongst themselves. This continued to happen until one day when I decided to wearily open my eyes and take a look around.

The first thing my awakened eyeballs focused on was a blurry image of a white ceiling in the room. Sure enough, I had been taken to the hospital and was lying on my back in a bed. After my vision focused more, I could see even more of the room and the various medical equipment near my bedside. I was hooked to an IV, a heart monitor and an oxygen supplier. Foolishly, I tried to sit up, but I discovered that my whole body ached. Lying back down, I fumbled around for a remote of some sort that would adjust my bed so that I could sit up. After finding one, the top part of the bed slowly made its way forward until it stopped at a suitable position.

I rested my head against the pillow as I heard a gentle knock on the door, followed by a nurse poking her head in. "Good afternoon," she greeted with a smile as she headed over to my bed. "Thank goodness that you’re finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"Body aches all over," I managed to weakly moan out.

"That’s expected after what you’ve been through," the nurse explained, "although it may also have to do with the fact that you’ve been asleep for three days and haven’t moved your limbs around much. You’ll need to learn how to move around again for a few days before you can go home."

I slowly nodded, showing her that I was listening and understanding the situation.

"I know that it may be too early for this, but you have visitors waiting for you," the woman told me. "Shall I send them in?"

Visitors were something that I never had the first time I was in the hospital. (Lindbergh didn’t count, as he was there originally to fix the sink.) This was quite a refreshing change. "Sure," I croaked out, "send them in."

A few silent moments after the nurse headed out the door, three familiar faces filed into the room. One of them was a frog with a eleven-point collar who I had seen three days ago, another was a shaggy brown kiwi dressed in a jumpsuit who I had last seen four days ago, and the last was a melon-headed scientist who I hadn’t seen in the longest time.

A different nurse appeared behind them. She was clad in a white nurse uniform and wearing her hair up in a ponytail. After a quick trip to the sink to wash her hands, she approached my bedside with a smile.

"Good afternoon, Digit," the nurse greeted. "My name is Kelly and I'll be your nurse until 7 PM. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions in front of your visitors, or would you like them to leave the room first?"

I glanced over at the three that were already assembled at the other side of the bed. Kermit and Lindbergh were looking at me, concern apparent on the frog’s face. Bunsen made his way over to the nurse’s side with a clipboard.

"I don't mind at all," I replied with a semi-hoarse voice. "Besides, they've just arrived in here."

"Sure," Kelly said with a nod. Then, she shone a penlight in both of my eyes. "How are feeling right now?" she asked. "Do you have any pain, or sensations of heat?"

"Well, my body was aching a little earlier…" I told her. "As far as the subject of overheating goes, I'm not too sure. I seem to be pretty cool at the moment."

The nurse nodded again. "Mmhmm. Have you been seeing spots, bright lights --" a giggle escaped from her throat before she continued "-- other than the one I just shined in your eyes, naturally -- or blurry images?"

I only slightly remembered the Inner Tube project from a few days ago. "Monitors, strobe lights…" I recollected. "Yes, yes I have, actually. But that was a few days ago."

Kelly nodded before resting her hands on the bedrail. "Okay, so you're around flashy screens, then? What about since you've been here? Have you seen any strange lights since you woke up?"

"Well, besides the ceiling lights, my vision was slightly blurry when I first woke up," I recalled. "I managed to focus it eventually, though."

"Ah." The nurse then wrote something on a note card and showed it to me. "Could you please act out what it says on this card?" she asked.

After I read the card silently to myself (it read "Wiggle your left foot"), I did the action for a few moments. "... is my foot moving all right?" I asked Kelly. "I don't know if I can feel it. Just slightly, but still…"

She nodded, taking my hands in hers. "I'd like you to push against my hands as hard as you can," she requested.

"Okay…" Then I pushed against her hands as hard as I could. Oddly enough, I could only feels slight pressure.

"I'll be honest," Kelly spoke up as I was pushing, "this is the first time I've seen someone with such enhancements… when you pick up objects, can you normally tell temperature and texture?"

"I usually can," I told her. "I don't know what's wrong with that function of me at the moment, though... am I pushing hard enough?"

"Sure." The woman then went to my feet, a never-ending smile on her face. "Sorry if this tickles," she stated politely, "but I'm going to hold your feet and I need you to push against my hands."

"Got it." I counted to three silently and started to push with all my might against the nurse’s hands.

Kelly’s smile never left her face as she spoke. "Good, good! So, it just seems to be a slight bilateral weakness in your hands." She then turned to Bunsen, who was busily writing things down on the clipboard. "Dr. Honeydew, Dr. Goelz will need to know how much Digit's circuitry affects his motor control, if you don't mind."
"Not to worry, Miss Kelly," the scientist reassured her. "I was about to go visit Dr. Goelz while on my way to lunch, anyhow."

The woman smiled and turned back to me. "I don't want to take up a lot of your time, Digit," she told me. "I'm sure your visitors would like to have a private moment with you. Before I go, let me tell you first that you can't have anything to eat or drink. The doctor's order does allow you to swish some ice chips in your mouth for comfort, but you'll need to make sure you're sitting up so you don't risk choking, all right? And if you have to go to the bathroom, please press the call light for assistance." With the touch her hand to mine, she added, "Please don't try to stand by yourself. Do you have any questions before I go?"

I managed a smile of my own. "No, Kelly, I don‘t have any questions at all." Will I be okay? I asked in my mind.

The nurse gave me one last smile and departed from the room.

"And on that note," Bunsen began a few moments later, finally putting the pen in his pocket after finishing up the writing, "I must go speak with Dr. Goelz about Mr. Digit’s circuitry. Excuse me, gentlemen." With that, he left the room in search for the doctor.

After the scientist left, I looked over at the frog and the bird that were still in the room. They were glancing at each other nervously, each afraid to go first in speaking to me.
With a smirk, I decided to speak to them myself. "I’m so glad to see you guys here. I just hope that this doesn't dock my pay," I added, winking at Kermit.

The famous amphibian gave a smirk of his own before he replied. "That's okay. None of you were going to be paid anyway. I can't afford the taxes." The smirk turned into a smile as he patted me on the hand. "Of course you're what's important now. You have to get better… I don't think I can run the show without you."

"Well, it's true that you can't run a show without a team," I mused aloud. "Every member has their own strengths and-- wait, me?" I gave Kermit a confused stare. Could he really not run the new show without me? "I thought I was just hired as a keyboard player."

Kermit nodded. "I never hire for just the stated position," he stated. "During The Muppet Show, everyone had to have backstage skills as well as acting or singing skills. I don't always have the money to hire specific jobs. I have learned to be efficient when I hire."

I smiled as I fondly remembered watching the show years ago. "Of course. Efficiency is often a key element in any organization.," I noted. "Take a band, for instance. They have to do a lot of things just to get a gig. Advertising, transportation, hauling the equipment, setting up the equipment, working the equipment --"

"Don't forget about making sure that you're in tip-top shape," Lindbergh interrupted me. "That's a hard job within itself." He continued with a shrug. "I know I'm your best friend and all, but you need to tell me -- any of us, actually -- what you plan on doing before you wear yourself out like this."

"I apologize," I said to my friend, glancing away. "No one knows me better than you."

"Do you have experience with these kinds of things?" Kermit asked Lindbergh.

With a nod, my best friend launched into the story of how he and I met. Even though it had been over a decade ago, he still remembered the meeting with the most excellent of memory. I smiled to myself as I remembered when we met on my own time.

The frog nodded as the story was completed and asked Lindbergh thoughtfully, "Want a job?"

The kiwi widened his eyes in surprise and amazement. "Really? You want to hire me?"

"For right now, it'd just be helpful if you'd be Digit's assistant," Kermit explained. "I have a lot of complicated technological stuff in mind, and I can't have Digit wearing himself out all the time. I was thinking of Bunsen, but he's got his own priorities with Muppet Labs."

"Gee, it's an honor to be able to work with you, Mr. the Frog," my best friend told our new boss. "You can count me in!"

"Call me Kermit, Lindbergh," the frog said with a grin. "I never really understood why everyone kept starting my name with an article," he added before he paused. "An article is like the word ‘the’, ‘a’, ‘an’… you know, those kinds of words."

The brown bird’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Uh, yeah."

A chuckle escaped from the frog’s throat. "Sorry, old habits die hard."

"Right." Lindbergh then turned to me. "So, what happened to ya, Digit? Did you have a bad glitch?"

"To tell the truth, guys," I answered, "I hardly remember what happened. All I recall last is asking for the break room, and then the next thing I know, I’m here in the hospital."

Before any of us could speak again, a doctor with a brown beard and glasses walked into the room with a clipboard, shuffling through a few papers. "Good afternoon, Digit," the man greeted before nodding at my two visitors. "Good afternoon, folks." Turning back to me, he spoke. "I’m Dr. Goelz, and I have some good news. We've gone over all the tests and it doesn't appear that any of your biological systems were damaged permanently."

"That’s a relief," I sighed to myself.

"It appears that there was a problem with some of your cybernetic interfaces," Dr. Goelz continued. "In other words, the parts of the machines that help you couldn't communicate effectively with the biological nervous system anymore."

"It’s not that serious, is it doctor?" I asked.

"Actually, what we're going to do is replace a few connectors, a few bad circuits, and apply some biological scaffolding to help reconnect the nerves to the computer chips, and you should be fine in a week or so. Dr. Honeydew has gone to acquire the necessary parts and we have some experimental biological scaffolding here in our research division."

"Wow, science is amazing these days," Lindbergh commented.

"It truly is," the man agreed with a smile before adjusting his glasses. "Now, are there any questions from any of you?"

The three of us replied all at once. "I don’t think so." "Nah." "Well, you’re the expert. We’ll leave the operation up to you."

A chuckle came out of Dr. Goelz’s throat. "All right. I’ll see you again in the operating room, Digit, right before the anesthesia kicks in." With that, he left with the clipboard in his hands.

~~~

"… clamps…"

"… forceps…"

"… I need more light!"

Even though I was under the anesthesia medication, I could still hear snippets of the conversations during the operations. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind wouldn’t let me snooze that easily.

I could hear a sigh. "The corrosion seems a bit worse than the X-Ray showed …"

I forced myself to not sit up on the table. Was that bad?

"… dendrites attached…"

Then I heard the sound of beeping. "… chip function at maximum."

"… what the…?"

"He's starting to wake up. Increase anesthesia, please."

"… decayed neural pathway…"

The last thing I heard before I passed out completely was a sigh and "We’ll have to remove it."

Yay!

Not that Digit's been hospitalized, of course. I'm not THAT bitter about him breaking up with me, am I? LOL...

No, seriously, that was very cool. I'm glad I make a quick ... or, should I say, "very brief" cameo, heheheh.

It's seriously a tradition to have puppeteers as the doctors? Really?

Ah, I didn't realize. I don't think I've ever used such cameos.

Chapter 22

The next thing that I remember happening was waking up in the hospital again, this time in a recovery room. I could hardly make out anything at first because of my drowsiness, and I wanted to fall back asleep and dream. Alas, all attempts were not successful, and I thought that I might as well stare at the ceiling to pass the time.

As I lied there in the hospital bed, I listened around to all the sounds. There was the steady beeping of machinery, the soft talking of nurses and doctors, and… Well, basically, that was all I heard other than my thoughts.

Whenever I did eventually start to stir a little, I felt my body aching all over. The sensation was much worse than the last time. They must’ve operated on a lot of parts, including those decayed neural paths that they had to amputate. What were they, anyway? I mentally asked myself.

A small yawn found its way out of my throat. My internal clock told me that it was late and that I needed to go to sleep, but how could I? I was passed out for three days before the operation, and asleep for who knew how long thanks to the anesthesia.

Still, just thinking of sleep made me tired again. I shifted around a little in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position before I closed my eyes again. It took a little while, but I finally managed to drift off to a quiet slumber.

~~~

When I awoke the next day, I was back in the hospital room that I was in previously. My body still ached from the surgery, but I found that I could move my hands around a little without them aching as much. I adjusted the bed with the remote and then rubbed my eyes to fully awake myself.

As I began to lowered my hands, something about them seemed to catch my eye. I didn’t understand it at first. They were the same color that they had been since the Seventies and everything about them was functioning just right… Raising my hands back up, I moved my fingers around to see--

Wait… the fingers…

Startled, I silently counted the fingers on my left hand. One, two, three, four… Where was the fifth one? Making sure that I wasn’t just imagining things, I went ahead and counted the fingers on my right hand. "One, two, three, four…" Four… fingers on each hand?

I examined my hands to make sure that I wasn’t seeing strange images and let out a yelp of surprise and shock. Cautiously, I wiggled around the eight fingers that I did see and gasped. Turning my hands so that my palms faced me, I counted all of the fingers again in my head and still came up with a grand total of eight.

What did this mean? Why did I only have eight fingers? Were the other two invisible, or…

I remembered that a man in the surgery room said something about removing decayed neural pathways. Only then did I realize that two of my fingers, one on each hand, had to be amputated in order for me to function properly. It was fine and all thinking about it now, but back then I was greatly concerned. I didn’t know how I could go through life with just eight, erm, digits.

Curiosity consumed me. How would this affect my everyday living? I picked up the remote at my bedside, testing out my grip. It seemed to be just fine. I also practiced with a cup of ice that was on a tray. This isn’t so bad, I thought to myself. I could actually get used to this. I mean, it’s not like it’ll affect my life in any major way or anything.

A gentle knock came upon my door and a nurse poked her head in. "Digit, you have a group of visitors here to see you. Should I send them in all at once, or do you want to visit with them one at a time?"

A smile came across my face. My friends had come to check up on me! What a nice surprise. "Sure, send them in," I told her.

Imagine my surprise to see that instead of my friends, six beautiful human women filed into the room, one right after another.

Naturally, I was greatly confused. Who were these people? Did I meet them at a party? Did I speak to them over the phone? Were they models? Were they off-duty nurses? Were they waitresses? … who were they and what were they doing in my hospital room?

"Hi, Digit," the females all greeted simultaneously.

And how did they know my name?

"… hello," I replied back to them, a quizzical expression on my face. "Um… what brings you ladies here today?"

"We were sent here to be your present," explained a brunette.

"Yes," a blonde agreed, "Leon sent us."

Of course. Out of all the people I knew, Leon had the biggest obsession with girls. Only he would’ve constructed a present like this.

What he failed to realize was that I wasn’t that comfortable around women that I hardly knew. Even when I was still human, I never had that much luck when it came to girls. I never even had a date to the prom. Heck, I didn’t even go to my high school prom, now that I think of it.

It’s like I told Lindbergh after the Hello, Dolly incident, "Nonsense, the day that I decide to go out on a date with a girl is the day that I learn to mambo."

Anyway, the women were flocking around my bed, cooing at me and giggling. I felt a little uncomfortable, as I wasn’t used to this sort of attention. "It’s fine, girls," I told them after ten minutes of this. "You don’t need to do this. I’ll be all right. I’ve decided that I’m willing to learn how to live with eight fingers. Besides, it could be quite fun."

"Oh, we hope so, cutie," a woman with black hair stated with a wink as the females started to leave the room. "Besides, it’s not like you play the piano or something."

As they left after that comment, realization hit. How would I be able to play the keyboards again after the surgery? I’d have to learn all over again. Oh, why couldn’t I have my original ten fingers back?

~~~

About a week after I had been sent home from the hospital, I found myself sitting in a chair in the living room, staring at my keyboards. I didn’t know if I could ever play again after what I had been through. Still, the only way to know was to try, so I wandered off over to them and decided to play.

"It’s not that easy being… grayish-green," I sang as I tried my best to play the notes right. "It’s not that easy… having only eight fingers." I kept on making mistakes and hitting wrong notes. "When I think it could be nicer being a normal skin color or have ten fingers again or something to that extent." Taking a breath, I continued. "It’s not that easy being grayish-green. Having to spend each day the color of diluted tea--"

"Yo Digit, you got a visitor at the door waiting for you," Clifford told me, stepping into the room. "Why don’t you come on and greet them?"

Letting out a sigh, I responded, "Sure, Clifford." I stepped away from the keyboards and made my way to the front door, which was already ajar ever so slightly. I turned the knob and opened the door, expecting it to be Kermit or someone.

What -- actually, who I saw in the doorway changed my life forever.

The visitor was a female with curly red hair and glasses. She was wearing a teal dress, trimmed at the neck with lace. A sincere smile was on her face; and the way the sun hit her made her give off an almost angelic glow.

"Hi, Mr. Digit!" she greeted cheerfully, the smile never leaving her face. "I just wanted to check up on you."

I could hardly believe that such a beautiful angel was actually speaking to me. "Hi…" I greeted her shyly. "Won't you... like to come in for a while?" I motioned to the inside of the house.

The female nodded, stepping inside. "Thank you." She took out a pencil and a clipboard on our way to the living room. "I hope you don't mind."

A smile of my own formed on my lips. "Oh, not at all."

The fair maiden sat down on the couch while I remained standing, wondering if I should sit beside her or not. "Mr. Kermit asked me to get some information," she explained to me. "Of course, if you don't wish to divulge certain personal attributes, feel free to say so. How are your hands functioning so far?"

Glancing down at my hands for a few brief seconds, I answered her. "My hands are functioning fine. Picking up objects and moving things around have been easier since the surgery. I'm still relearning how to play the keyboards, though. Kind of difficult to do with eight fingers, I've discovered…"

"I bet," the woman agreed with a nod. "Do you need any special services?"

"Oh, not at all," I replied. "I have all the help that I need. Kermit has told you about my glitching, hasn't he? Well, I have a friend in the maintenance business who's teaching me about my inner mechanisms so that I can repair myself when he isn't around. But other than that, I'm fine."

The red-haired beauty nodded. "That's a good idea," she noted. "If you don't mind, I'd like a checklist of any procedures you may require for myself. You know…" She started to twirl her pencil around thoughtlessly in her fingers. "How to turn you off if that's possible, how to turn you on…"

I felt my cheeks heat up a little as she finished up the statement. Did she really just say what I thought she said? No, Digit, get your mind out of there, my conscience scolded me. She didn’t mean to say it like that, so stop standing around like an idiot and answer her.

"Well, um, as far as that matter goes," I responded, trying very hard to mask my nervousness, "there's a certain button or switch on my control panel that has that function. Right…" I singled the button out with the pointing of a finger. "…here. The other switches are mainly for vocal issues, if something should come up with that."

Apparently the woman thought the same thing that I did and started to blush. "Mmhmm." She cleared her throat and spoke again, an air of nervousness present. "Uh, okay… well, um… I wasn't trying to say anything too forward… I just needed to know what buttons to push--" A gasp escaped her throat. "I mean… uh…" The redness on her face deepened. "I'm sorry, but do you have a bathroom?" she asked suddenly.

"Sure," I told her, "it's down the hall, first door to your right."

The female then scurried off to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. As I watched her walk away, I sat down on the opposite end of the couch and mentally complimented her on her gracefulness. She’s so beautiful and kind, I thought happily. I don’t even know her name, and yet she seems to make my circuitry feel complete. Heaven must’ve sent an angel to me…

My ears perked up at running water and a feminine voice scolding herself. This worried me greatly. How could such a marvelous woman talk about herself so negatively? I mentally asked with concern. If anything, she should be showered with praises. Oh, if only she knew how I felt about her right now…

She emerged a few moments later, straightening out her clothes and hair. "There, that's better." My angel turned to face me with a smile as I stood up. "I'm so happy to see you're feeling better, Mr. Digit, sir. We at Muppet Central can't wait to have you back on the team." Her cheeks became rosy as she continued to speak. "I'll be more than happy to, um, ahem, get you anything you need." The maiden then gave me a piece of paper. "My number's on there," she told me. "Call me if you need anything."

"… you don’t have to call me ‘Mr. Digit’, you know," I said to her softly with a smile. "Just Digit will do."

The beauty nodded and gave her own smile in return. "It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Digit," she told me as we reached the front door. Her hand turned the knob and she started to walk out the door, but not before telling me "Goodbye" in a very sweet tone of voice.

I closed the door behind her and sighed, a lovesick expression present on my face. There was no doubt about it: I was in love with a wonderful woman. No other person could take her place. We had only known each other for a short while, and yet she had stolen my heart away completely.

Realizing that I had yet to find out her name, I glanced down at the card that she gave me and searched for her name. "Vicki Gale," I read silently to myself. I held the card close to my heart.

Vicki. That was the name of my angel. Just thinking about her made me hear sweet sounds all around me. Oh, what could I say? This feeling was here to stay for sure.

... *Punishes himself for not keeping up!* I was wondering if you'd include Digit's five to four fingers! And I can't wait for him to meet Gonzo for real. XD

Good stuff, Cait! Loved Leon's girls. TOO funny. Clifford was also great. And Vicki of COURSE! So great to see her introduction! Loved when she asked Digit about turning off and on... Keep it up!

Like ... soooooo ... amusing, rully.

Past tense of "lie" = "lay", not "lied", at least in the context of going into a horizontal position.

Been awhile since I've been on here, but this is wonderful Caitlyn! I can't wait to read more of this wonderous story. I'll be checking up as often as I can okay?

nag nag naggity nag nag

Sigh ... c'mon ... (jumps up and down)

Hoo Ha! *Johny Bravo pose.* ....More?

Chapter 23

I remember that night well. The room was packed and the crowd was yelling for more. We were about to play our closing number, and the audience (which mostly consisted of people in their teens and twenties) went wild when I first started to play my keyboards for that final number of the concert. The rest of the band soon joined in and we launched into a favorite Bon Jovi song of ours.

"Once upon a time," Beard started the lyrics, "Not so long ago…"

"Tommy used to work on the docks," Flash sang. "Union's been on strike, he's down on his luck. It's tough… ooh, so tough. Gina works the diner all day, orking for her man, she brings home her pay For love… ooh, for love."

"She says: We've got to hold on to what we've got," Beard sang with the saxophonist, "'cause it doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We've got each other and that's a lot. For love, we'll give it a shot."

"Oh, We're half way there," we (meaning Flash, Beard, myself, and Clifford) sang. (Francine was too busy playing the drums.) "Oh-oh! Livin' on a prayer. Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear. Oh-oh! Livin' on a prayer."

"Tommy got his six string in hock," Flash sang solo."Now he's holding in what he used to make it talk. So tough… ooh, it's tough. Gina dreams of running away. When she cries in the night, Tommy whispers: Baby it's okay… someday…"

"We've got to hold on to what we've got," the duo from before sang, "'cause it doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We've got each other and that's a lot. For love, we'll give it a shot."

"Oh, We're half way there," the four of us sang again. "Oh-oh! Livin' on a prayer. Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear. Oh-oh! Livin' on a prayer!"

"Livin’ on a prayer!" Flash sang out before Beard began a guitar solo.

"Oooh, we've got to hold on, ready or not," the blonde sang again. "You live for the fight when it's all that you've got."

"Whoa, We're half way there," we all sang."Whoa-oh! Livin' on a prayer! Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear. Whoa-oh! Livin' on a prayer!


The fans sang along with us for the last part. "Whoa, We're half way there. Whoa-oh! Livin' on a prayer! Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear. Whoa-oh! Livin' on a prayer!"

The crowd erupted in thunderous cheering and applause. We all took our bows and bid the audience a good night before shuffling backstage for a much-needed break. The others were busy discussing the fans while I wandered off to be with my own thoughts.

"Digit!" A familiar voice called out once I was alone backstage. I turned to see a silver-skinned woman with pink hair. "How's it goin’? You and your band absolutely rock!"

A surprised and happy expression came across my face. "Maya! What a surprise seeing you here!" I moved closer to the friend that I hadn’t seen in a few months as I continued to speak. "How did you find us?"

"Vicki has all de personnel files," she explained with a smile. "I knew right where fe find you."

I felt my cheeks heat up ever so slightly as I thought about the red-haired beauty that I had the pleasure of meeting. "Oh, she does? That's interesting."

With a nod, Maya continued. "Yeah, de girl's detailed, I'll gi her dat. Anyway, di reason I came was fe see if ju and your band wanted a gig at Muppet Central."

My mind was still on the bespectacled girl as I continued to speak. "And she's very beauti--" I suddenly realized that Maya was on a completely different subject. "Er, I mean, really? The whole band's invited to join?" I asked.

A sigh escaped from the Jamaican woman’s throat. "Yeah… dere were some… changes… fe de organizational chart. Duke and Kevin bowed out and I'm far too busy with directin' di musical spots fe play myself."

"I'm sorry to hear about that," I told her. Wait, that was the drummer’s name, Kevin? I thought quizzically. "No worries, Maya, I'm sure the rest of the band would love to work at Muppet Central."

"Excellent," the woman said with a nod. "Just stop on by me office when ju guys arrive. I need ju before I head out on me lunch break, okay?"

"We'll be sure to be there, Maya," I confirmed. The answer was a smile, and then she left the backstage area. I rushed to tell the others the good news about our new, permanent gig. Boy, were they going to be surprised.

~~~

Maya would never know just how happy she made me. I had been so uncomfortable around Kevin the drummer and the others. Of course, I was suffering some technical difficulties at the time, but while I would have stayed in that job because I needed it -- I was really uncomfortable. But there was a ray of light in all this. Now I could be with my band, the one who knew me, and I could have my best friend at my side.

After the concert, we all went back to our apartments to retire for the evening. I was strolling along to my room, my hopes for the future raised significantly, when I heard two voices discussing something. On closer inspection, I discovered that the voices sounded much like those of Lindbergh and my computer graphic creation (who was still unnamed).

I entered the room and was immediately greeted by Lindbergh. "Hey, Digit, where do you want me to put all these white bouquets in the shape of ‘D’ and ‘V’?" he asked me.

"Hey, Digit?" the graphic on my computer piped up. "I've been looking up tuxes for you." Various pictures of tuxedo styles then popped up on the screen. "Which one would you pick?"

"Wait, I'm confused," I told them, a puzzled expression on my face. "What is all this stuff for?"

"Of course," my creation continued, "if you decide not to go, all those guests will be disappointed."

"What are you talking about?" I asked with a frown.

"I have some Valentine's Day candy and cards," my best friend told me. "I've already taken the liberty of putting your name on them. Who should I put down as the girl?"

"… But… I'm not…" I didn’t understand it. What were they implying?

The blue rubber duckie-like creature on my computer screen sighed. "She'll be so disappointed, too. We had already called all the wedding magazines."

I thought long and hard about what they were saying before I responded. "Is… is this about Vicki?" I asked them.

Two identical Cheshire Cat-like grins appeared on my best friend and my creation’s faces in response. It had been confirmed: at last, two people now knew of my crush on the pretty red-haired girl.

"Digit and Vicki sittin’ in a tree," the blue graphic sang, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"

An exasperated sigh came from my throat. "Fine, fine ... work it all out of your systems."

"Oh, c'mon, Digit," my creation said to me, "we think it's great!"

"Seriously, though, Digit," my best friend began, "what are your plans with Vicki?"

"Well…" I scratched the back of my head out of nervousness while continuing. "To be honest, I'm still not that sure. I mean, I want to take her out on a date sometime, but I don't want to seem too forward to her. Since I'm still getting to know her and all, I have to make sure that I ask her at the right time."

"What is the right time?" the little graphic asked.

"I don’t know exactly right now," I told him, "but I’ll know it when I see it."

"Well, can you at least give me a hint?" he asked persistently.

I tried to change the subject. "Let me punch up the classic Romeo and Juliet," I told my creation. "It's a play about two teenagers who struggle with love despite all their hardships."

"Isn't Romeo and Juliet where--?" Lindbergh started to ask.

"Well, to be kind of honest," I interrupted him, "it's one of the few plays I remember from high school." Chuckling a little, I pulled up a text document that had the entire play typed out in it.

The determined graphic started to search through text for a few quotes. " ‘Two households, both alike in dignity‘… wow, what a long intro… hardly any romance in this scene… ‘But soft! What light from yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise fair sun…’ Long monologue… "Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?’ … blah blah blah… ‘What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet.’" He then paused, looking directly at Lindbergh and myself. "What do you call a computer graphic, then?" he asked.

"Piccy?" the kiwi suggested.

My ears mistook what he said for the girl of my dreams and I immediately turned my head. "Where?"

The bird looked at me in confusion. "Huh?"

"I'm not very picky, actually," the graphic stated, his lower lip pouted.

Lindbergh then applied his hand (wing?) to his forehead in exasperation.

"Come on guys, I need a name." the blue rubber duckie-like creature continued. "A real name."

I started searching around for a certain book that I had on file. "Where did I leave that name book?"

"You have a name book?" Lindbergh questioned.

"Never mind why I have it," I spoke to my best friend. "I want to know where I put it."

"Well, have you tried the bookshelf by the wall?" he asked.

"Where's the wall?" I responded in return. Suddenly, an idea came into my mind. "Where's Waldo…"

"Who's Waldo?" the kiwi asked.

I replied by smiling at my creation and pointing to him.

The graphic’s eyes widened. "Me?"

The smile never left my face as I nodded in response. "Yes, I think Waldo fits you rather well."

"Waldo... I kinda like it," the newly christened computer graphic stated. "What about my middle and last names?"

I stroked my chin, trying to think of something "Well, you are a computer graphic," I told him. "Let's just use that: Waldo C. Graphic."

"Isn't that a bit derivative?" Lindbergh asked me.

I shrugged as I answered him. "Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, Fozzie Bear…"

"Good point."

"I have a name!" Waldo exclaimed. He celebrated all night long that evening, rejoicing at the fact that he finally had a name to be called by.