Another Very Merry Muppet Family Christmas Story

Muppet Newsgirl

Well-Known Member
Joined
Feb 28, 2006
Messages
3,168
Reaction score
51
I thought it was a nice story, Boober. And it looks like you got ALL of the Muppet characters (and some of the humans) in there as well. That house must have been crowded.

Can't wait to see how it ends!
 

The Count

Moderator
Staff member
Joined
Jul 12, 2002
Messages
31,236
Reaction score
2,919
You know... Maybe part of the problem is there's no story.

Don't get me wrong, there is a story because you posted it. But you posted it over on the fanfiction.net website. General concenssus round these parts is, if you start up a thread for your story... Well, there'd better be a story posted in that thread.
If you simply copy the story as it was originally posted, maybe a few corrective tweaks if you feel they're needed, and then post it here in this thread... That'd probably attract more people to come in and read the story you worked so hard to create.

Just a friendly suggestion, hope this helps.
 

superboober

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 21, 2005
Messages
501
Reaction score
25
Upon taking into account The Count's advice, I will repost the story one chapter at a time on this thread as time permits. At any rate, here's Chapter #1--again--for your viewing pleasure:





YET ANOTHER VERY MERRY MUPPET FAMILY CHRISTMAS STORY
BY
BOB WRIGHT
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is by and large an independent story with no direct connection to my previous Muppet story, although a few items are continued from there.
This story is dedicated to the memory of Jerry Juhl, and others with the Muppets who have left us too soon.
The classic Muppets are registered trademarks of the Walt Disney Company. Sesame Street characters are trademarks of Sesame Workshop. Fraggle Rock characters and all other are registered trademarks of the Jim Henson Company. And now, as always, sit back and enjoy the story.
“Last call, everybody out for the night,” the guard called to the few patrons still flowing out of the museum, “We’ll open again after the holidays.” He waved goodbye to several visitors before walking over to the wall and activating the building’s security features for the evening.


“Are you sure this system’s going to work, Ken?” asked the curator gruffly, having come up behind him.

“It was the best I could get, Mr. Van Grouch,” the guard said, “Especially when we end up with the fabulous Baseball Diamond for four weeks, we’ve got to take every precaution we can. Lady Holliday would never forgive us if anything happened to it.”

He gestured toward the large display case in the center of the room containing the largest diamond in the world, temporarily on loan to them. “Yeah, well I would have preferred a gem a little more flawed for the collection,” Van Grouch groused, “It would fit in with our overall theme of artistic trash. Oh well, nobody’s perfect. At least it gives us more prestige, and you can never have enough of that.”

He hefted his coat and top hat. “Anyway, I’ve got a dinner engagement at the Don’t Drop Inn in an hour, so I’ll see you after the holiday, Ken,” he said, walking briskly toward the exit.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Van Grouch,” the guard called after him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Van Grouch growled back. The guard shrugged and pulled the levers that activated the laser grid all around the room. He took one final check to make sure the Baseball Diamond was safe, then walked toward the service entrance. On his way out, he passed an exhibit of stuffed North American animals. Or at least they all looked stuffed….

No sooner had the guard vanished than the seemingly immobile bear at the edge of the displayed glanced around, and then raised a radio to his lips. “All clear,” he said into it, “You can make your move.”

Up on the roof, a short man in a shabby gray coat was holding the other radio. “Check, Chuck,” he told the bear, “You and your buddies get those cameras and alarms down while we get inside.” He turned around and called out, “Bo, it’s show time.”

The only response to this was a loud snoring sound coming from behind the air conditioner. The short man rolled his eyes in disgust. “BO!” he shouted, kicking his associate’s legs.

“I DIDN’T DO IT YOUR HONOR!” the other man, a tall person in need of a shave, shrieked as he leaped to his feet. He glanced around in a panic. “Oh, sorry Larry,” he told the short man, “Just having a bad…”

“Here, get the winch set up,” Larry muttered, shoving several mechanical items into Bo’s hands, “I’ll get the skylight set up.”

He strode over to the skylight and glanced down. The Baseball Diamond stood right in the middle of the room, surrounded by the alarm lasers. Larry knew that walking right into the museum and trying to snatch the diamond would have been folly; that had been the reason he’d told his employers that he wanted extra assistance from the infamous Riverbottom Gang for this job, as he was worked together with them a couple of times before on small jobs. If all went well—and given the combined IQ of his associates, he had his doubts—he was now in for the biggest payday of his long career in crime.

He pulled a wire out of his pocket and proceeded to cross-wire the skylight’s alarm system. Next he produced a glasscutter and slowly cut a circle in the center of the skylight. Once he was finished, he reached through the hole to undo the lock—only to have the entire skylight shatter when his sleeve brushed a small portion of it. Larry shrugged at this misfortunate; at least the alarm was still off. “All right, give me the harness, Bo,” he told his partner.

“Coming Larry,” Bo stumbled over with the winch half-finished. Rolling his eyes, Larry hooked himself up to the winch’s harness and stepped out to the edge. “All right, lower me down,” he told Bo, “And make sure you…NOT THAT FAST!”

For Bo has set the winch on its fastest setting, which send Larry flying downward at close to forty miles an hour, a fall that was interrupted only when he hit the floor hard. “Oops,” Bo groaned from the roof, “Sorry about that, Larry.”

Muttering under his breath, Larry grabbed the cable, which Bo was now holding on to, and gave it a hard yank that sent Bo falling downward into the floor as well. Miraculously, neither of them activated the alarm lasers upon landing, but as they shook themselves off, they saw they were now hemmed in by them. “Hey guys!” Larry hissed toward the hall, “Mind getting in here and shutting them down!”

“Keep your shirt on, pal,” the Riverbottom Gang’s Snake slithered into the room underneath the lasers. Upon reaching the Baseball Diamond’s display case, it pressed the Play button of the tape recorder it had in its coils and listened to the playback of the case’s alarm combination being punched in. Nodding, it pressed in the combination on the keypad with its nose. “Case deactivated,” it announced loudly as the clicking of the alarm going down could be heard.

“Why don’t you say it a little louder?” Larry told him sarcastically, “We can pull down the window and you can shout it all the way to the precinct. I don’t see these alarm beams down yet!” he shouted loudly himself into the hall.

“All right, all right, give us a second!” the Weasel peered around the corner, wire cutters in hand. He dropped out of sight again, and moments later the alarm beams disappeared. “Wait, wait, wait,” Larry pulled an eager Bo back down to the floor, “We need the camera’s down first.”

And fortunately for their cause, the rest of the Riverbottom Gang now entered the room, the Lizard carrying the Pop-Eyed Catfish in a metal bucket, and set about cutting the cords to the security cameras around the gallery. “OK, now get up,” Larry hauled Bo to his feet once they were clear, “Get me the decoy ready.”

He opened the unlocked side of the case and stared in greedily at the Baseball Diamond. Now came the tough part. The case was rigged, even with the main alarms down, to go off if there was the slightest loss of pressure from the diamond. The glass fake diamond he’d procured would have to be put in place at exactly the right time. He felt Bo press it into his hand now. Taking a deep breath, he put his hands into the case on either side of the diamond. “Three,” he counted down to himself, “Two, one…”

In a flash he pushed the Baseball Diamond off its pedestal and shoved the fake into place. To his delight the alarm did not sound. Chuckling in delight he held the diamond up. “The fabulous Baseball Diamond,” he said proudly, “And it’s all ours.”

“Now don’t forget we get an equal cut of the profits once we sell this off,” the Lizard reminded him.

“We don’t take well to being short-changed,” Chuck added with a growl.

“Don’t worry boys, I’d never dream of short-changing you,” Larry reassured him, “Bo, get the wrapping ready for…Bo? Oh great!”

For Bo was now disappearing into one of the bathrooms, a wrench in hand. Larry ran after him to find his partner underneath the bathroom sink, tampering with the plumbing. “Bo, how many time have I gotta tell you, don’t shut the water off!” he yelled at him.

“But Larry, we gotta leave our mark!” Bo protested, “After all, we’re supposed to be the Dry Bandits. Let me get this…”

No sooner had his wrench touched the U-bend, however, than the alarm sounded all throughout the museum. “Honestly,” Bo remarked out loud, sounding offended, “who, puts alarms on their plumbing?”

“Probably people who know somebody feels the need to shut it off!” Larry hauled his fellow Dry Bandit to his feet and slapped him for good measure. “Beat a path for the alley, boys!” he shouted at the Riverbottom Gang as he ran out of the bathroom, tossing the Baseball Diamond to Chuck, “Wrap that up like a present so nobody gets suspicious.”

“Hey wait, I can’t go anywhere!” protested the Pop-Eyed Catfish, who’d been left stranded in his bucket on top of a display case. Larry backpedaled and picked the fish up. “I don’t know why we even bother bringing ya along like this when you don’t….OOOFFF!” his rant was cut off as Bo, in his haste to escape, accidentally slammed open the service entrance door in his partner’s face. Growling, Larry staggered toward his large open-backed truck parked in the alley behind the museum. He tossed the Pop-Eyed Catfish’s bucket into the back, where the rest of the Riverbottom Gang was wrapping the Baseball Diamond in green present paper, and gunned the truck engine. They pulled out into traffic, sending three cars driving by onto the sidewalk. A light snow was now falling. “I hope this doesn’t slow up our trip to the Bitterman Building,” the Snake remarked, staring up out the truck open rear at the sky, “She did say she and the Doc like us to be punctual.”

“Ah, as long as she pays up afterwards, who cares what time we’re there?” Larry scoffed, turning on the windshield wipers, “And even if it does snow, we’ve got loads of time to get there. No need to rush when we’ve got the diamond and no one can trace it to us.”

“Unless something else goes wrong,” the Weasel pointed out, sticking a tag on the wrapped up diamond inscribed JUMBO GOLF BALL, DO NOT OPEN TILL NEXT XMAS.

“Relax, bud,” Bo laughed, “What else could go wrong now?”
 

superboober

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 21, 2005
Messages
501
Reaction score
25
And, because I have extra time this evening, Chapter 2 as well:




As Christmas Eve morning dawned the next day in the city of Fieldton about fifty miles from where the theft had occurred, Alan Reiser sat in the den of his worn-down apartment reading the classified section of the newspaper. He shook his head sadly. No openings were available. Ever since the electrical company had decided three months ago to completely outsource its operations to the Far East, he’d been left in the lurch with no employment. He was starting to feel desperate inside; after all there was no way he could continue to scrape by with two children to support while his wife was out on the West Coast.

It was at this moment that the phone on the table next to his decaying armchair rang. Alan grabbed for the receiver; he’d been expecting the call since last night. “Hello?” he said into the receiver.

“Good morning and merry Christmas, dearest,” came his wife’s voice on the other end. Although she’d only been out in California working hard to try and help keep them afloat after he’d been laid off, seemed like forever to Alan—and their children—that she’d been gone. Unfortunately, she’d only been able to find low-end positions so far—barely enough to pay her airfare back, she’d told him softly over the phone one night when the children were asleep—and that wasn’t helping the fact they were well behind on the rent and probably facing an eviction notice within the next thirty days. “So, are you still on schedule to get back her by tonight, Alicia?” he asked her.

“I’m at the airport now, honey,” she told him, “I don’t know if the plane’ll be able to make it through, though; they’re saying a snowstorm’s headed your way.”

“They are?” Alan frowned, “The forecasters all said clear this morning when I got up. You’ll still try anyway? We were all going to drive to the airport in Boulderville to see you off the plane.”

“I’ll try, but if that’s storm’s really there, there’s no guarantee you’d be going there
for nothing,” she said with a melancholy edge, “From what I saw, it looked like a really big storm.”

“Is that Mom on?” came the still sleepy voice of their son Zachary, having entered the den still in his pajamas.

“Yep. You want to talk to her?” his father asked. Zachary nodded slowly and took the receiver. Alan stepped back and listened to mother and son discuss the holidays and what they’d have as presents for each other. There was no mistaking, though, the deep sadness etched on Zachary’s face as he talked with Alicia; he’d been very close to his mother and had taken the fact she was going out west hard. Alan understood the pain, having lived through his own parents’ divorce when he was twelve. But that had been far from the only problems in Zachary’s life lately; two of his own friends had also moved away, and this combined with the absence of his mother had sent the formerly boisterous ten year old into a shell, spending most of his time in his room and doing none of the activities he once had. Alan was desperate to get him back out into the world and start living again, but didn’t have the heart to try anything forceful.

“Right, we’ll see you there, Mom,” Zachary finished the conversation and hung up. He stared ahead into space. “Something’s going to go wrong and we’re not going to get to spend Christmas together,” he said softly.

“Hey, don’t worry about that yet, pal,” Alan walked over and rubbed his son’s hair, “No need to get upset before things happen.”

“I just have this terrible feeling deep down that bad things will happen either to us or her,” Zachary wasn’t placated, “Everything else’s gone wrong for us, no reason this won’t either.”

“Well now you’re starting to think like a Fraggle,” Alan told him, “They always get pessimistic in the bad times.”

“What Fraggles? I’ve never seen any Fraggles,” Zachary commented, shaking his head, “Everyone says they’re just a myth little kids believe in. Have you ever actually seen a Fraggle, Dad?”

“No myself, no, but—“

“Then how do you know they always look on the bad side of things?” Zachary posed. Alan couldn’t come up with an answer for this. The clock struck ten o’clock at this moment. “Well, looks like the time’s almost upon us to get moving if we want to get to the airport in time,” the man said, “Why don’t you get all the presents for your mother together, and I’ll go get your sister awake so we can get out on the road.”
“I guess,” Zachary went about gathering up the presents that were stacked in the corner of the den. Alan walked up the hallway to a door that was still closed. He gently opened it. His daughter lay asleep in her bed, snoring softly. She looked almost completely at peace, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But Alan knew nothing could be further from the truth, even if he hadn’t told it to her. Ever since the hospital reports had came back last month, and the doctor had said—he couldn’t even bear to think of it now—acute leukemia, discovered about three weeks late…

“Time to wake up, Christine,” he said, gently shaking her. Christine awoke with a start. “Is it Christmas Eve yet?” she asked him.

“At last check it was,” Alan pointed to the overcast but bright skies outside, “You’d better get dressed, we’re going to need to be at the airport in an hour if we want to see Mommy home.” His heart shuddered inside as he said this; if Zachary was right and something did go wrong, Alicia might never get another chance, if the disease had spread far enough…

“Is Mommy still coming back on time?” she asked him, stretching.

“So far, yes,” he said, “I bet she’s going to like that present you got her.”

“I hope so,” his daughter said.

“Well, I’ll let you get ready, your brother and I will load up the car,” he started to leave.

“Daddy, are you sure I’m all right to see her again?” Christine’s question cut through the air, “I’m not contagious to her, am I?”

Alan stared hard into her worried eyes. He forced a smile. “No, it’s not that bad,” he said quickly, “Everything’s going to be all right.”

He rubbed her hair as well and walked out of the room, breaking up on the inside. “Here, I’ll take that one,” he told Zachary, who was struggling to lift a heavy present—a microwave, as Alicia had told him she could use one when she went back to California after the holidays, “No need to hurt yourself.” He picked it up and carried it out into the hall, too preoccupied to notice the yellow newsman coming onto the television screen in his landlord’s room up the hall, the door to which was wide open had he cared to look. “Here’s a fast-breaking news flash,” the Newsman was announcing as he ran up to his desk, accidentally tripping on and breaking something with a loud shattering of glass in the process, “The National Weather Service has issued a winter weather warning for the Tri-County area for the rest of the day. The edge of the snowstorm is expected to reach the area within the next two hours…” at this point a torrent of snow abruptly fell down on him. “If not sooner,” he added with a grimace, wiping it out of his hair, “Motorists are warned to stay off the roadways at all times within the next twenty-four hours if they can help it.”
“How much longer is this going to last?” Christine asked in a worried voice about a half hour later as they drove very slowly eastbound on Route 21 toward Boulderville—straight into what looked like the heart of the snowstorm. For without an advance warning of the system, they had driven right into almost total whiteout conditions.


“Oh, I’m sure this won’t go on too much longer, probably just a squall,” her father said as optimistically as he could. He gripped the wheel tightly with both hands and braked hard every chance he could get, for he could barely see five feet in front of him with the wind blowing heavy gusts of snow along the road.

“If so, this is the heaviest squall I’ve ever seen,” Zachary was gripping the door handle nearest to him tightly as well, “I don’t like to complain, Dad, but maybe we’d better pull over until this blows over.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Alan had to agree now, “I think we…”

It happened in a flash. One second there was the strident blare of a horn directly behind them. Alan failed to see the truck until it was almost right alongside him, barreling along at well over the speed limit. He had to swerve hard to avoid getting sideswiped, and found himself sliding out of control on black ice. “Hold on!” he yelled to his children in the back seat, bracing himself for a crash. While that thankfully didn’t come, there was a lurch as they slid sideways into a ditch, just barely avoiding a rollover. For a few minutes the Reisers sat still, breathing heavily over what had just happened. “You guys all right back there?” Alan asked his children once he’d collected his bearings again.

“I think so,” Christine was also taking deep breaths; fortunately, she and her brother looked unharmed. “Are we stuck, Dad?”

“One way to find out,” Alan turned the key in the ignition again. Only now the engine wouldn’t start. He pressed the key several times before it became perfectly clear the engine was now completely dead. “Perfect!” he groaned, slumping against the steering wheel, “It looks like we are stuck! We’ll have to get a mechanic for this!”

“In this weather?” Zachary gestured at the windows, which were completely covered with snow already, “Who else is going to be out here in this?”

And then suddenly before anyone could answer, they all heard the sound of a large vehicle approaching. There was a squeal of brakes as it came to a stop alongside them. The next thing any of them knew, there was a knocking on the front window. “Hi ho,” said a familiar voice, “You folks need some help?”

Alan rolled down the window to find himself staring through the falling snow at a green amphibious face. “Kermit?” he asked, surprised, “Kermit the frog from TV?”

“That’s me,” the frog said, “I’m glad someone still watches us. What seems to be the problem here?”

“Oh, the engine died and we got run off the road,” Alan told him, “You wouldn’t by any chance be going near the airport in Boulderville?”

“The Boulderville airport’s been shut down due to the storm, “ the Great Gonzo stuck his head out of the window of the large bus with snow chains and snowplow that was parked nearby, “They just said so on the radio.”

“Great, just great,” Alan sighed in frustration, “Now what are we going to do? Our whole day was based around that airport being open!”

“Tell you what,” Kermit proposed, “I know there’s a garage and convenient shop about five miles up the road from here. How about we drop your car off there, and you can come wait with us until this storm blows over?”

“Where are you going?“ Christine had rolled down her window as well despite the storm’s ferocity.

“Fozzie’s mother invited us all back to her place for Christmas, since we had so much fun the last time we were there,” the frog told her, pointing to his bear colleague behind the bus’s wheel, “In fact we’ve invited practically everyone I know to come this year. A couple more people sure aren’t going to hurt.”

Alan thought this over for a minute. “Are you sure your bus there can get there safely in this weather?” he had to ask.

“Well, good question,” Kermit didn’t look completely sure himself, “But we have come twenty miles so far. And if it’s too bad, we can wait over at the garage until it clears.”

“Hmm,” Alan mused it over. “What do you guys say, should we take up the frog’s offer?” he asked his children.

“It’s a lot better than waiting here for this to stop,” Zachary told him, “Besides, I’ve been wanting to collect these guys' autographs for a long time.”

“Well then, let me be the first to help you there,” Kermit produced a pencil and paper and signed out his name for Zachary, “Hop on board the bus, we’ll get you hooked up. Hey you guys, give me a hand out here getting these people’s car out of the ditch,” he called into the bus.

There was a low murmur as several Muppets came off the bus dressed in heavy winter outfits. “Boy they’re in deep,” Floyd Pepper commented, staring at the Reisers’ car in the ditch, “It’s going to take us a while to get this unstuck.”

“Not if us all eat snow,” Animal began chowing down on the snowdrift around the car. His Electric Mayhem colleagues shrugged and started pushing on the rear bumper. “No complaints now, please guys,” Kermit told several who were still grumbling, “We should be glad we’re doing a good deed like this.”
He started pushing along with the musicians. The Reisers climbed out of the car. “Take care of our presents in the back there, “Alan informed the frog, “They’re meant for my wife.”

“We’ll take good care of them,” Kermit gestured toward the back end of the bus, to which a large flatbed loaded with at least three dozen more presents was attached, “Take whatever seats available on board.”

“Right,” the family rushed toward the bus; anything to get out of the cold wind. “Fare is twenty-nine dollars a head,” Fozzie greeted them once they were on board. Seeing the worried looks on their faces, he added, “Just joking. Ride’s on us. Sit anywhere, like the frog said.”

“You’re still a terrible comedian off the stage too,” Alan told the bear. He slid into a seat a few rows behind Fozzie, right next to Scooter, as it was. “Hi,” the gofer greeted him, “You know, I think you’re going to like Fozzie’s mother. She always throws a great Christmas party.”

“Well we can’t stay long,” Alan informed him, “We’ll have to get to the Boulderville airport sometime today when it reopens. We promised my wife we’d be there. The kids have been waiting so long to see her.”

“The old love at a distance, huh?” Scooter asked, “Well, I’m sure we can work out something. In the meantime, you’re going to have lots of fun. We all are. I think this is going to be one of the best Christmases ever.”
 

The Count

Moderator
Staff member
Joined
Jul 12, 2002
Messages
31,236
Reaction score
2,919
Wow... So much action in those opening salvos.

The jewel heist... With the Riverbottom Gang, great stuff. Especially the bit about the alarms in the toilets, foiling the criminals from leaving their signature mark.
The Ricers' family story... Lots there to mine.
But I loved when the Muppets showed up and offered to help get their car unstuck and take them to Grizzly Farms. Funny to see Animal eating snow, the others just brushing it off as they're brushing away the snow.
Great stuff... Hope more gets posted soon.
 

superboober

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 21, 2005
Messages
501
Reaction score
25
Here's Chapter 3. if you feel I'm going too fast in posting these feel free to tell me so:






“Here you go folks, the garage and rest stop,” Fozzie announced loudly over the bus’s intercom as he swung wide to the left toward the garage. The snowstorm had meant that it had taken him fifteen minutes to drive the five miles there.

“This is a garage?” Alan stared in surprise out the window. What stood before them was a low, run-down stone building with broken windows on the garage doors and a sagging roof. A busted sign labeled DUMPEE CONVIENT STORE AND GARAGE hung dangerously to one side over the squat convenient store stuck on to the building’s right side.

“I know it’s not pretty to look at, but a couple of friends of mine run it,” Kermit leaned over the back of the seat directly in front of his special passenger, “It was the best they could get with lease offers so high these days. But they’ll take good care of your car, you can trust me on that. Fozzie, pull up here.”

“Aye aye Captain Kermit,” Fozzie braked the bus to an abrupt stop alongside the convenient store, sending everyone on board jerking forward in their seats. In the back row, Rizzo, who’d been giving Zachary his latest autograph, was pitched hard forward on the entire length of the bus, slamming hard into the rearview mirror. “Hey, I said warn us when you’re going to do that!” he complained to Fozzie as he slid downward to the floor.

“Oh rats, I know I forgot something,” Fozzie grumbled.

“I heard that!” Rizzo shouted at him.

Excuse us please,” Alan lifted Rizzo up off the floor as he walked down the steps after Kermit. The frog led him toward the reception area of the garage building. On the dusty desk was a small metal bell next to the sign RING FOR PROMPT SERVICE. Kermit ring the bell, which despite its size tolled away like a large church bell. Immediately George popped up behind the counter. Thanks for deciding to be Dumpee,” he announced, “How can we help you?”

“Well George, Mr. Reiser’s car broke down a few miles back, we’re wondering if you could take a look at it,” Kermit told him.

“You got it, frog, we’ll put it under our Insta-Check Ultraviolet Scanner,” George gestured to a strange contraption in the back of the garage. “Bruno, bring her in,” he called to the large lumbering trash man in the room behind him. Bruno nodded and silently lumbered out toward the Reiser’s car at the back of the bus. “I’d like to thank you for doing this for us,” Alan told Kermit as they walked back outside.

“Well Christmas is the time you help others the most,” Kermit said, “And since they work quick here, I…watch out Scooter!”

For the Dry Bandits’ truck had come into the parking lot from the other direction and had nearly run over Scooter, who’d been walking across the lot toward the convenient store. Larry rolled down the driver’s side window. “Hey, you’d better watch where you’re goin’, bud!” he shouted at Scooter from the snowdrift he’d been forced to dive into.

“Hey, which kettle are you calling black, Pot?” Fozzie yelled out his own window at the crook.

Chuck’s head snaked out Larry’s open window. “Watch yourself, coz,” he growled softly at Fozzie, “We pots can sizzle your kettle.”

“Right,” Fozzie gulped nervously at the sight of the other bear. Kermit gulped himself at the sight of the Riverbottom Gang climbing down out of the truck. “Not these guys again!” he lamented, sliding quickly behind Alan and grabbing hold of his scarf with both flippers, “Uh, don’t let them see me; they’ve been on me since my uncle helped out some people they wanted to see in the gutter.”

Larry climbed down from the truck as well. “Here,” he said, tossing Bo the gas pump, “Do something useful for a change, gas up while I go the bathroom. And don’t screw around with the hose.”

“We’ll go check out the shelves in the store,” the Snake told him, “Chuck’s hungry.”

“No, I’m not hungry,” Chuck corrected him, “I’m HUUUUNNNNNNGGGRRYYYYYYYY!”

“Sure thing, Chuck,” the Snake gulped. The five animals—the Weasel carrying the Pop-Eyed Catfish in its bucket—dashed for the store. “What’re you looking at?” Chuck growled threateningly at Alan as he past him. “Nice guy, very nice guy,” he told Kermit as the frog helped Scooter to his feet.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Fozzie remarked out the window, “He’s my cousin. He’s the black bear of the family.”

“He looks like a brown bear to me, Foz,” Scooter told him.

“No, no, no,” Fozzie shook his head, “I mean, we disowned him after he started doing terrible things.”

“Really, I can’t blame you,” Scooter stared inside the convenient store, which the Riverbottom Gang was basically tearing apart, throwing items up in the air at will. The cashier could be clearly seen screaming that she was going to call the police if they didn’t stop. It was at this moment when George stuck his head out the garage door. “Our inspection’s done,” he called out.

“Well that was quick service,” Alan remarked to Kermit as they headed back for the garage.

“Like I said, they do good business even if business is slow,” the frog said, “What’s wrong with it, George?”

“In a nutshell, everything,” George checked the checklist Bruno had handed to him, “The engine’s shot to pieces, the suspension’s busted, the brakes are long gone, it needs a rear end job, the oil’s overdue for a change, the gas lines are shot, and the tires need replacing.”

“How much is that going to cost?” Alan gulped, knowing they would have the funds for that extreme an overhaul.”

“Five bucks,” George said.

“Huh?”

“It’s Bargain Week; we’re offering a five dollars for five or more problems special,” George explained, “Bruno and I’ll have it all done on Boxing Day; we’ll have to, because then the boxers are all coming to have their cars done. You’ll still have to fill out the paperwork now.”

“That’s fine,” Alan reached for the clipboard. He and Kermit were too preoccupied to notice the police cruiser pulling slowly into the parking lot. Larry, fresh out of the bathroom, did however. He turned pale as the officer driving it trudged through the heavy snow toward the bathroom he’d just come out of. “Good afternoon, officer,” he told the man as politely as he could. One the cop was out of sight, he ran to the front door and waved frantically for the Riverbottom Gang to stop and leave. “Forget it, forget it, let’s get out of here!” he hissed at Bo, who was still filling up the truck. Bo hastily screwed the tank cap back on and jumped into the driver’s seat as the Riverbottomers scrambled over his partner. He gunned the truck’s engine and lurched it hard forward, hitting the gas pumps’ cement rise like a speed bump as he did. “That’s great Bo,” Larry derided him, “Why don’t you go faster and put me through the windshield while you’re at it?” Neither they nor the Riverbottom Gang noticed that the package containing the Baseball Diamond had flown out the open back of the truck from the bump and had fallen among the myriad of presents on the flatbed attached to Fozzie’s bus. Within moments, the thieves had disappeared into the storm again without their cargo. No one on board the bus seemed to have noticed the incident as well. Back at the garage, Alan shook George’s hand. “Well, I’d like to thank you for being so generous, and we’ll try and be back early on Boxing Day to pick it up,” he told the old man.

“Try and be early; I’ve got a nine thirty with Evander Holyfield,” George told him in closing. He trudged back toward the garage, when Bruno was already preparing a load of diagnostic equipment. “It’s all in good hands now,” Kermit reassured his friend, “Let’s go on to Fozzie’s mother’s place.”




“It looks like the snow’s starting to slow up a bit,” Zachary glanced out the window. He and his sister were now sitting alongside their father as the bus plowed it way through heavy drifts along a quiet country road.


“That’s what the latest weather reports said,” Zoot said from the other side of the aisle, “It’s going to come in three distinct waves. This was the first one.”

“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about traveling after this,” Kermit remarked, “And really, snow on Christmas makes the holiday a little more beautiful, a little more like it really should be.”

He glanced out at the winter wonderland before them. “There’s magic in the air this evening, magic in the air,” he started singing along with the song now playing on the bus’s radio, “The world is at her best, you know, when people love and care. The promise of excitement is one the night will keep. After all, there’s only one more sleep till Christmas.”

“Look out there, Daddy,” Christine pointed. All sorts of forest animals had come out of the woods and were running alongside the bus, including several penguins and polar bears. “Yep, we’re definitely getting closer now,” Kermit said, waving hello to several squirrels in the trees. He turned to his nephew next to him. “You take the next verse, Robin.”

“The world has got a smile today, the world has got a glow,” Robin sang with the song, “There’s no such thing as strangers when a stranger says ‘Hello.’ And everyone is family, we’re having so much fun, after all, there’s only one more sleep till Christmas.”

“Tis the season to be jolly and joyous,” every Muppet on the bus sang the bridge, “With a burst of pleasure we feel it all right. It’s a season when the Saints can employ us to spread the news about peace, and to keep love alive.”

“Your turn,” Kermit told Alan. The man shook his head. “I, uh, really don’t sing Christmas carols much anymore, Kermit,” he told the frog. Kermit shrugged. “There’s something in the wind today that’s good for everyone,” he went on with the song, “Yes, faith is in our hearts today, we’re shining like the sun. And everyone can feel it, the feeling’s running deep. After all, there’s only one more sleep till Christmas.”

“After all, there’s only one more sleep till Christmas Day,” every other Muppet finished the song.

“There it is, Mom’s old house,” Fozzie pointed through the snowflakes toward the distance, “And I see the minor modifications are coming along well.”

“Minor modifications?” Alan gaped at the old farmhouse just now visible…and the ten-story hotel façade that was being constructed behind it. A large blue form wearing a bright red suit was standing in the road in front of them. It knocked on the front window as Fozzie pulled up. “You’ve got your parking pass?” he asked Fozzie once the bear had rolled down the window.

“Right here, Thog,” Fozzie handed the form to the large blue creature. Thog gave it a looking over. “Spot 8-J on your right, in front of the barn,” he gestured the bus forward.

“You’ve got him out there in this weather?” Zachary had to ask Kermit.

“Well, with all the people we’ve got coming, I figured we might have to coordinate parking,” Kermit explained, “And who better to bear a storm than Thog, we figured. OK everyone,” he announced once the bus had slid to a stop in its parking space, “Make sure you’ve got your room reservation passes and luggage with you, because I don’t think with this weather we’re going to get back out here again.”

The various Muppets on board rose up and pulled their gear out of the bus’s overhead racks. Alan pulled Gonzo aside as the whatever walked toward the door. “Seriously, do you know how much they’re calling for?” he asked him, gesturing at the sky.

“I’ve heard about two feet, Mr. Reiser,” Gonzo told him, “If you’re hoping to get to the airport, I think….”

A large wooden plank abruptly fell out of nowhere onto his skull. “I think I’m in an extraordinarily large amount of pain,” Gonzo revised his sentence as he keeled forward. “Sorry,” came Biff’s voice from the scaffolding surrounding the hotel façade rising above them. “Sully, I thought I said to be careful with those planks!” he yelled at his associate. Sully shrugged and went back about his work. Back below, Alan helped Gonzo to his feet, handing him a large chuck of ice from nearby to put on his head, then walked back to the flatbed where his children were helping Rowlf unload the presents. “I don’t know how we’re going to keep track of which ones are ours, Daddy,” Christine told him, staring in confusion at the sheer number of presents before them.

“Well, Dr Honeydew’s Present X-Ray machine should help if we need to know,” Rowlf told her, handing her father several presents, including the one the Baseball Diamond was in, “If he ever got it to work, that is.”

“Look, here comes another bus,” Zachary pointed. Thog was gesturing another, more formal-looking bus, toward where they were parking. The letters on the side read SESAME STREET TOURS. “Hey, look who’s here!” Alan pointed Christine’s gaze toward the door after it had opened and the first person onboard had starting stepping off, “It’s Nurse Robinson!”

“Hello there Christine,” Susan strode over with a big smile and hugged her young patient, “How’ve we been since the last time you came to the hospital?”

“I’ve been great, Nurse Robinson,” Christine told her happily, “I’ve been taking the medication you said I should. Did Kermit invite you here?”

“Yep, he invited us all,” Gordon hunched low behind his wife, “Stay close, Miles, you could get separated easily in a storm like this.”

His son nodded, clutching his hand. Various other human residents of Sesame Street piled off the bus, suitcases in hand. Last off was a familiar old man in a gray hat. He walked over to the luggage bins and opened one up. “After you, please,” he gestured at Linda, who removed a carrying case with Barkley inside. “Did you enjoy your ride, Sprocket?” he told his own dog, unlocking his carrier and letting him out into the snow, “I wish you could have sat with me too, but this bus has certain rules.”

Sprocket whimpered in discomfort and stretched. “Yes, I would have preferred we’d driven here too, but there’s no way we could have made it through this mess in my car,” Doc tried to reason with his pet, “Besides, if these people offered you a free ride, would you turn it down?”

“Mr. Crystal, nice to see you again,” Alan shook Doc’s hand, “You know, you still owe me that refund for that malfunctioning sheep counter.”

“I know, I know,” Doc groaned in disgust, “Business has been slow for me too, Mr. Reiser. These times are hard an anyone, especially inventors like me.”

“Well, in the meantime, help us carry some of these presents,” Alan handed several to the inventor. He walked up toward the farmhouse door, only to slip hard as he approached it and fall flat on his back, dropping presents everywhere. “Careful on the icy patch!” shouted a familiar voice behind the door. It was abruptly thrown open. “Oh Kermit my love, I was so worried you wouldn’t make it!” Miss Piggy gushed, rushing to the frog and trying to embrace him.

“Yeah, uh, we made it, Piggy, now, uh, can we wait until everyone’s inside before…” Kermit slipped on the ice himself in his attempts to get away from Miss Piggy. “Careful on the icy patch!” another female voice warned. A bear with white hair stepped forward. “Ma!” Fozzie rushed forward over the still fallen Alan toward his mother—and also slipped. “Careful on the icy patch!” Statler and Waldorf shouted from the living room sofa. “This is going to be fun, watching this gag play out again,” the former told the latter.

“And now there’ll be more people to see do it,” Waldorf added, watching every single human and Muppet that walked into the house slip and fall on the ice one at a time. “Emily, say hello to the Reiser family,” Kermit introduced them to the older bear, “They’ll be staying here with us until this storm blows over. We do have available rooms, don’t we?”

“Probably,” Emily started glancing through the list in her hands, “but it would have to be one of the upper floors, and I don’t know…”

The doorbell rang behind them, followed by the sound of a very heavy person slipping on the ice. “Careful on the icy patch!” everyone nearby shouted out at them. Gonzo opened the door. “You OK, Earl?” he asked the heavily bundled up megalosaurus lying in a heap on the doorstep.

“As OK as a guy not used to this weather can be,” Earl Sinclair slowly rose up, rubbing his head, “Why couldn’t we have done this in Palm Springs?”

He and his family sauntered inside, all bundled up like there was no tomorrow. A somewhat worried Roy Hess brought up the rear. “I’m telling you, pally boy, there’s something that doesn’t seem right here, renting from mammals in cold weather,” he told Earl, “You know I’m allergic to cold weather.”
He sneezed loudly. Earl paid no attention to his friend and dropped the rest of his luggage in the middle of the den with a loud thump. “Well, advanced humans,” he noticed the Reisers, “There seems to be more of them out there these days than you can imagine.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual,” Alan told him. He noticed the Baby in Earl’s arms. “Hello there,” he said, making a false cute face, “My name’s…”

“Not the momma!” the Baby conked him over the head with its own heavy suitcase. Alan groaned and staggered backwards. “Now Baby, we agreed no hitting other guests,” Fran scolded it. She hailed down Sam the Eagle as he walked by. “Would you mind keeping an eye on him for a while?” she asked the bird, “I’m part of the cooking staff for today.”

“Me? Handling an infant?” Sam grimaced at the baby in distaste. “Hello, fat boy!” it greeted him. Sam stifled a heavy groan. “You there,” he remarked, noticing the Electric Mayhem wheeling in their equipment, “Where do you weirdoes think you're taking that paraphernalia?”

“We gotta get set up, man,” Dr. Teeth told the Eagle, “We’re gonna be playin’ all night long, right Clifford?”

“Absolutely,” the Rastafarian was placing several loudspeakers into place in the vestibule.

“Will your songs be of high cultural quality?” Sam had to know.

“Who cares?” the Baby shouted at him, “Gimme bottle!”

“Oh dear Lord,” Sam put an embarrassed wing over his face as he slowly shuffled off toward the kitchen. As he pushed open the door, Kermit exited carrying an icepack. “Here you are,” he said, handing it to Alan, “Sorry about that; he hits me every time I see him too.”

“I could guess,” Alan pressed it against his skull, “So you do have some place for us to stay here? I can see it is getting a bit crowded in here.”

“Let’s take a look here,” Kermit hefted Emily’s assignment book, “Ah yeah, it looks like the top floor in fact, so I hope you’re not afraid of elevators. Why don’t we take your stuff up now?"
 

The Count

Moderator
Staff member
Joined
Jul 12, 2002
Messages
31,236
Reaction score
2,919
Very much good in here. The joke about Boxing Day and being early because of an appointment with Evander Holyfield made me laugh.
Although it's all been written already...

Doc's name is Jerome Christian, not Crystal as you jotted down in the conversation he and Alan Ricer had.
Don't particularly like the Dinosaurs characters, but that's just me.

Other than that... This is very well done, and I love seeing all the characters appearing/showing up... Reminds me of how I handled such a feat in my own story.
Keep posting, so long as the story keeps getting updated.
 

Fragglemuppet

Well-Known Member
Joined
Mar 21, 2005
Messages
4,103
Reaction score
212
Actually Ed, though it is unsure to most people whether it is Christian or Crystal, it is probably Crystal, so as to be sort of a play on Dark Crystal.
Wow, Boober, this must be some effert. Although it is usual to post ones' stories on this site, I know there was at least one person, if not two, who just posted links. You yourself have done it before, as I remember. I don't think this alone will atract new readers, but I suppose it was worth a try. Good luck.
 

The Count

Moderator
Staff member
Joined
Jul 12, 2002
Messages
31,236
Reaction score
2,919
Actually Kate... The reason I say that is because someone, not sure who, maybe one of my ML sources... Anyway, they reported that it was revealed/stated Doc's full character name was indeed Jerome "Doc" Christian.
Possibly from an episode's script or from a documentary feature included in DVD releases.

Hope this helps.
 
Top