“Piggy,” gasped Kermit. “Please! I know it was silly and I should have known better, but I’m begging you—come back!” From across the room, Piggy sighed. “Honestly,” she muttered. “And people say I’m a drama queen.” “Piggy—sweetheart….” Kermit said desperately. “I’ll make it up to you—I promise! Just—just come back over here.” Piggy crossed to the couch where Kermit sat and regarded him with something akin to exasperation. “You are cold-blooded,” she said firmly. “What did you expect when you—“ “Ok,” Kermit said. “I’ll admit it—I didn’t think things all the way through. I should have told you.” “You should,” Piggy murmured. “And I should have waited for you.” “Definitely!” Piggy said, rather sharply, and Kermit shrank back and huddled in on himself. He looked up at her, giving his best pollywog eyes. “Please?” If a picture is worth a thousand words, a warm blanket must be worth a hundred thousand. Piggy draped the blanket—nice and hot from the dryer—over Kermit’s shivering form, then sat down next to him, slid under the blanket and put her arms around him. Kermit let out a groan, reaching for Piggy's warm, solid form. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you, thank you so much, Sweetheart. Oh—you’re so warm!” “You are positively freezing,” Piggy complained. “Your hands are like ice!” Despite her scolding tone, she took his cold hands and put them somewhere warm. “You are wonderful,” Kermit mumbled, snuggling in with abandon. “You are the most beautiful, amazing, talented pig on the entire planet!” Piggy sighed and rolled her eyes, then silenced him with a kiss right on his froggy lips. That seemed to work better than the blanket and the snuggling, and Kermit made a small sound of satisfaction and kissed her back. “That as fantastic,” he said when they broke apart. “Vous are an idiot.” Kermit opened his mouth to protest, but Piggy cut him off before he could. “But vous are a darling, wonderful, generous idiot,” Piggy said. She looked into his bulbous eyes. “But you should have waited for me.” “I should have,” Kermit admitted, giving a huge shiver. Piggy snuggled him expertly in her embrace and kissed his jaw fondly. “Next time you take an ice bucket challenge, Moi expects to be there with you, ready to bring your body temperature back up to normal. Got it?” she growled. Kermit nodded and gave another shiver, then grinned at her slyly. “My body temperature is rapidly improving.” “Moi noticed,” she murmured. They gazed at each other, then kissed again. “I used one of your pretty purple checks,” Kermit murmured between kisses. “I hope that’s okay?” “That’s okay,” Piggy began, then gasped and gave a little shiver of her own. “That was very okay,” she said, her blue eyes teasing. “I’ve got feeling back in my hands,” Kermit said, and kissed her. They were still kissing moments later when Fozzie and Scooter came out of the kitchen through the dining room carrying a tray of hot soup and a teapot. They saw the The Frogs snuggled up on the couch, their heads protruding from a big, fluffy blanket. “You okay, old buddy?” Fozzie asked. He shot Piggy a quick, mildly terrified look, but she was smiling and he relaxed. “Sure. I’m doing great. Warming up.” Was there a touch of pink on Kermit’s cheeks? Fozzie wasn’t sure. Scooter fidgeted, also terrified of his boss’s wife’s ire, but he did his best. “Um, sorry Miss Piggy,” he murmured. “We, um, should have waited for you to do it, but the sound crew was all set up and—“ “And he insisted you go ahead, that he’d be fine, right?” Scooter looked at her uncertainly. “How did you know?” Piggy rolled her fabulous blue eyes and kissed Kermit—hard—over his left eye. “Because he’s an idiot.” “Well, I’m really sorry—“ “Go home,” Piggy said, not unkindly. “Go home to Sara. He’s fine—or he’s going to be once he warms up.” “Okay,” Scooter said, looking relieved. “I—glad things are okay.” He smiled at Kermit. “See you tomorrow, Kermit. Glad you’re all right.” “Bye, Kermit,” said Fozzie, who had been edging for the door. “Glad you survived.” “He’s fine,” Piggy reassured them. “Moi may kill him later,” she muttered under her breath, and they half-turned back, but her lovely face was guileless. “Bye fellas—see you tomorrow,” Kermit called. The door shut behind them and Kermit, for all his cockiness, looked at Piggy warily. “Are you really mad?” he asked. “Moi is peeved,” she said, “and worried because the lot of you don’t seem to have the sense God gave a goose—“ “But?” Kermit interrupted, his expression hopeful. “But vous seem to be recovering.” There was a hint of a smile around her lovely snout. “Yes I do, don’t I?” Kermit deadpanned. “Anything else you can think of that, um, might bring my body temperature back up to normal?” The hint of a smile became a full-out, thousand-watt grin. “Yes,” she said simply, and showed him.