It was not a stormy cloudfilled day in Hensonville, no, on the contrary. The town was bustling with activity one Saturday in the month of August. Kermit and Piggy had talked about putting on a town-wide carnival for everyone to enjoy themselves, forgetting about the heated weather they were starting to feel. After talking to the mayor—and other town authorities—they'd gotten all permits needed to mount a grand old time. But how wdid the Muppets get everything ready so quickly? Well, it's a good thing they had twice the helpers underfoot. While Scooter got Beauregard and Beaker to build the various mechanisms for a couple of games, at the same time Piggy had enlisted Maureen to round up the womenfolk for proper costumes. Yes, if they were going to do a Renaissance festival they would do it up right Piggy groused. The Swedish Chef tapped Fozzie as an assistant this time, all he would have to do was call to the crowds selling creamy merangue pies. Rowlf phoned his contacts and managed to have them bring a Ferris wheel and a merry-go-round for him to man (er, or dog, as the case may be). -------------- The morning of the fair dawned with great hussle and hurry. The Muppets didn't want to disappoint, and they surely did not. With their due fanfare—okay, so it was just Gonzo blowing his trusty rusty bugle—the king and queen of the proceedings arrived in grand style. Both frog and pig ascended to take their seats at their respective thrones (Statler and Waldorf's armchairs, which they borrowed and decorated in regal golden cloths). Sir Gonzo, clad in his knight's armor escorted Lady Camilla away with him to the jousting square where he would compete in combat against Animal the Brute. Maureen, a lovely little mink dressed as a lady-in-waiting (what those ladies are in waiting for we'll never know) took her place at Piggy's elbow. Two young Whatnot girls named Nora and Amanda, also as ladies of the court of Kermit clambored up to the deius, opting for seats where they could see all passers-by—though they were secretly spying for the court troubador. "Pies! Pies!" announced the ursine comedian drafted into familiar service once more. An elder Whatnot male rounded the pavillion corner, commenting on the quality of the cidar purchased at Lew Zealand's booth. Chef laid a few discs of golden cornmeal batter to fry on the protable griddle at his station, a jug of sweet maple butter ready to dress the delicious cakelets. Kermit wasn't worried in leaving the smaller frogs under Tom's adult supervision, he knew better than to make foie gras with live ingredients. Especially when Sweetums was within hollering distance at the dunking tank. ------------ Nodding that everything was going as it should, Scooter checked his wristwatch. Sighing because he knew he had to go on, he plucked up his courage—as well as the strings of his modified guitar—and started strolling the grounds singing as he went. Spotting the singer first, Nora and Amanda clapped politely though enthusiastically. The Swedish Chef then saw the go-fer and brought out the special seasonings he had saved, sprinkling one of the various leaves into each of the different popcorn batches the frogs were selling. Scooter smelt the kernel oils, and upon identifying the spices, smiled as he knew what song he had to just start singing. "Are you goin' to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there. She once was a true love of mine." Bunsen hefted a pumpkin, not so big it was cumbersome, just weighted enough in his scientific opinion for the experiment he was about to conduct. With a couple of hand flexings this way and that, he readied himself, stood in front of his target, and lobbed the sphere down the cleared lane. Beaker shut his eyes in dread terror, knowing he'd be covered in pumpkin guts…or worse. He heard it before he felt it. Ker-smack! "Ah, a perfect strike, there now Beakie, that wasn't so bad was it?" Beaker opened his eyes to behold nine tall candlesticks knocked over onto the ground, the rats already removing the smashed orange vegetable goop. Thankful all he had to do was reposition the pins for the next bowler in line, he meeped a hello as Scooter passed them just then. "Tell her to make me a cambric shirt," he sang. "Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Without no seams nor needlework. Then she'll be a true love of mine." "Whooppeeee!" cried an excitable young frog as he hit the cold waters of the dunk tank below his loglike perch. Robin was enjoying the fact he'd gotten his uncle to put him in one of the games instead of insisting he dress up like a pampered prince, bored out of his mind. Sure, he was older and with about a few weeks left of a well-earned summer vacation. And sure, he had delighted in the date with Megan at the drive-in back in June. But there were some things this frog just wasn't ready to give up. People lined up here to toss a ball at the bell that would send Robin plunging into the frigid pool below. Sweetums towered over all, ensuring noone cut ahead, receiving the nickels it cost and retrieving the balls without losing track of a single one. He waved a huge beefy-fingered hand at Scooter when the minstrel came into view. "Tell her to find me an acre of land. Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Between salt water and the sea strands. Then she'll be a true love of mine." Lew Zealand demonstrated to some of the other gamers how to successfully aim and throw a sea horse's horseshoe so that it would perfectly ring the necks of the empty cidar bottles lined up on the counter. Scooter paused for a moment watching the first toss. "What? Sea horses don't have horseshoes," he thought. He picked up and examined one of the metallic implements. "Oh," he realized, it was just a plain horseshoe with some fishscales glued onto the top surface, leaving its iron inner curve uncoated. "Well, that makes sense, and dollars too," he mused to himself before moving right along. "Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather. Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. And gather it all in a bunch of heather. Then she'll be a true love of mine." "Oye oye," yelled Fozzie as Kermit's trusted assistant neared. "Simple Simon Met a pieman. Going to the fair." Fozzie proudly displayed the stack of pies that the Chef had given him to dispense amongst the hungry crowds of patrons, should any approach the bear. "Said Simple Simon. To the pieman." Scooter took up the line, grinning as he knew the part he was to play in this skit. "Let me have a pie to go." "Go? Go where?" Fozzie asked after taking the top cream pie, handing it over to the lad. "Well…," he grinned widely, "Go here." He threw the pie at the funnybear's face. "Wahahaha!" Fozzie screamed, instinctively ducking. The pie flew. And flew. And flew, until it smacked a hooknosed knight in the face. Animal just laughed. "I prefer rhubarb," commented Sir Gonzo dryly while his chicky baby tried to dry off the cream with her handkerchief. Hey, all damsels have a handkerchief or favor for their favored knight. Scooter just traced off, ruefully thinking of the person he wanted to favor him the same way. "Are you goin' to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there. She once was a true love of mine." Scooter ended up at the heart of the fairgrounds, knowing full well he was the only one permitted in this section. He'd asked Kermit about it earlier, the frog told him to ask Piggy. She in turn had coily replied with a "Never you mind, Andrew", which both puzzled and troubled him at the same time. He lifted his chin to think on the matter when his glance rested on the rather pleasant person resting there already. Dressed in the same satinny sapphire ensemble she'd worn to the Academy Awards last year, embellished with twinkling lighted stars was Sara, in the role of Sleeping Beauty. According to the story she would only be awakened with her true love's kiss. Well, if he had to…. What happened next though, took Scooter unaware as Sara flung her arms around his neck bringing him closer down to her level. "So... What took you so long?" she asked, smirking at the surprised look on his glasses. Stealing a few moments to themselves, the couple emerged, hand in hand as the court chorused the song's refrain. "Are you goin' to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Remember him to one who lives there. Then she'll be a true love of his." --------------- Music played from the carousel as afternoon mosied into evening. Muppets and Hensonites milled about through the pavillions. Profitable endeavors would help refurbish the Muppet Theater and possibly pay off that guy Bill, as his mail was still sent to everyone, regardless if they knew who "Bill" was or not. Scooter and Sara had snuck away from their mobbing fans, finding the view atop the Ferris wheel breathtaking. The night was now filled with the same lighted pattern as Sara's dress, only making the scene that much more beautiful to the young Mr. Hunt-Grosse. They stared at each other, mesmorized, before leaning into another long quiet kiss. Cozily snug next to each other, they rode out the second half of the wheel's rotation bringing them back down to earth. Two other girls sighed, knowing he was well off of the bachelor's list. But they could always dream…. And aren't dreams what we all have anyway? At least some dreams get better the more people you share them with. Which made King Kermit smile that lobsided smile his queenly wife loved so. Their dreams had come true ages ago, it's only fair they help others dreams come true as well. And this fair had certainly been a nice dream to share with their adopted hometown of Hensonville.