Fan Fic - Rainbows Have Nothing to Hide

Well, I have recently finished the first part of my Dark Universe series of Muppet stories, and while I work on parts 2 and 3 simultaniously, I will also be working on a non-alternate universe story about a certain glasses-n-clipboard character who we all have a story about...

I must confess that it will probably differ from the Renee version, and from, well, every other version, but it should still be fun and add some new insight into Scooter and...his story. I hope it is enjoyed!

Being speculative fiction, I can't garentee that any of these events are cannon or really happened.

Beau

P.S. This story is not set in the Dark Universe

Scooter's Journel, late at night, sometime, someplace...

My name is Scooter. I'm a guy, I have glasses, I work at a theatre with a bunch of weird cool good guys, and I have a sister I never met. Or can't recall.

I used to be ashamed of having no relations except an Uncle. When I was in college...but that's another story.

The fact is, I'm all alone in the world and I guess I always will be. And today, I saw a poster for a club...well, it's not the sort of club I would go to, except, I'm so very alone. And I am going. Tonight.

I guess I'll keep you upated, O great wise Journel.

Till then,
Ever goofy,
Scooter

Scooter's Journal, later, some other place, some other time...

I once read that a story's gotta begin with something dramatic, and exciting, that throws a reader straight into the story like a baby seal thrown into cold water to learn to swim for the first time, buttery, and slippery, fluttering in the salt waves.

I didn't. It may have been on purpose, easing you into my life, because my life isn't one dramatic event on which everything is bundled, nothing I do makes a difference in a big way, not like, say, Kermit or Piggy. If they were to keep a journal, every little details would be a big old splash on the face. Me, though, well, I don't do much. Not much hangs on my words. No one, anyway.

Which is why I went to the club...

Huge gourdy pink lettering, "Lonely? Wanna find loove? Club Clementine."

It was hard, and racey. Lots of loud music, punks, big drums. Smoke. It wasn't my thing...I shouldn't have gone really. There's nothing I can find in a place like that, but my search now...I really have to search...someday I'll find it, the lovers and me...

Ever goofy,
Scoot

Wow...I've gotta finish the other story though before I really get into this one. Can't wait though!!

That's really nice Beau!

(Thanks guys!!! I'm trying to get into Scooter's voice, but it ain't easy!!!)

That Other Journal, right here, right now

I was not at the club for myself tonight. I was there for someone else, and when I saw him...I knew why I was there before I was there. Sounds deep, but it ain't. I'm just a gal who knows where she is going before she gets there based on some gut instinct, and some knowledge of the world. Not to mention my contacts...

I was standing beside a graffitti wall when he came in, a black hood hanging over my face, watching the door, and, well, I was expecting him, but I was not expecting him.

Before you think it, I'm not the sort of gal who hangs in clubs a lot. I'm not. The noise scares me, and fights my concentration out of my head, and that drives me mad, and when I get mad...I do things, and I regret them. A lot.

There was a time when I was....however old I was then...when I saw a man tossing stones at a dog. The dog wasn't hurt, but he was getting mad, and so was I. "Hey, what the heck do you THINK you are doing you jerk?" I started running at the man, and he turned and saw me, and threw a stone. i guess it was self defence, what do you do if some mad gal is charging at you like a made Spanish bull? Well, then I was fuming, and I ...I hurt him.

Which is why I will not approach the man I saw at the club. Becuase if I do, I know one of us will get hurt. Again.

Love,
Me.

Oh wow...I can't wait to see how this turns out, Beau!!

Scooter's Journal, the next evening, upstairs

Kermit is a frog. A nice frog, but still a frog. He's green, with a collar, and hurge, bulging, ping-pong eyes that sometimes I fear see everything. Sure, I get one up on him about every show, but...well...I've never been a friend of his, and, if my uncle didn't own this theatre...I may not even have a job here.

Sure, I'm helpfully, and fit in among the weirdos. But sometimes, when Gonzo is shooting himself out of a bow as a human arrow at a giant apple made of banana peels, I wonder if this is my place in the world?

I guess it all goes back to that old destiny thing. If, then, if, then, if then. Cause and effect.

I'm upstairs right now, in my room at the Boarding House. It's sparce, and shared with Sam the Eagle. Not my fault, I was the last here on moving day cause my Uncle needed some furniture moved that day too...well...he's nice enough, but the wall paper sucks. Still, kermit assures me it's only till they can convince Animal to get out of the spare room...

I should get some sleep, it's quite late and Sam will be home from bingo with Mildred and Hilda, and Wayne any time soon...

Ever goofy,
Scoot

Ooh, inside Scooter's mind! I love it! I really like the journal format, it's really interesting and adds a different angle to storytelling. I want to know who "Me" is in that other journal entry. Wow, I really can't wait to read more!

That Other Journal, right there, right then

Darn.

Darn, darn, darn, darn, darn. I just can't get that man out of my head. Man? More like a boy, take Peter Pan and give him dreads, and glasses and some pain creeping into the tight skin around his eyes, and there's that man. I've known him for so long now...impossibally long, which is why it would be impossible for me to even think about finding him, speaking to him, seeing him again.

That's why I stepped backwards not forward, hitting shoulders with a skipmy skirted waitress, pushing the crowds aside, hiding back deep inside my hood and cloak and leaving the club by a back entrance.

Where was he before? When she needed him to get her on track? He didn't care for her then, and didn't steal, beg, fight his way to find her. Stupid man. Stupid.

I saw him again today. In a cafe, drinking coffee, cappachino I think. The foam stuck to his lip, and he laughed and wiped it off. He was there with some friends. I was in a taxi, waiting for Mr R. Why would I see him two days in a row?

Why???

Is it a sign?

Love,
Me

This is a weird little story. I really like it though.

Please post more.

It is certainly intreiguing (I can't spell that word for beans). I really like it though, post more when ready!

Oh, yes, this post was all based on the one above, but I couldn't resist! I never heard that expression before...

Scooter Journal, that café, then

I snuck a few moment to write a note about this conversation that just happened. I was drinking cappacha with Robin and Kermit and Nigel. Nigel used to be a guy who ran things around the theater before Kermit took over. Sure, I wasn't around then, but Nigel tells me often enough. If I stay still in one place long enough for him to step up beside me.

Robin was doing his spellings for school. And, they really have advanced those since I was in that place supping soggy soup in school dinners.

Kermit looked down the list written in scruffy hand on a piece of paper. The teacher gave it to Robin after school, yesterday. He says Robin is really bright, but even he couldn't spell this word...

"Intriguing," Kermit said.

Robin looked pained, like he was the one eating soggy soup. "I. N. T. Rig...ur..."

Kermit glanced at the list. "Huh?"

"What?" Robin blinked.

Kermit looked like he wanted to raise his eyebrows, except he has none. "I was commenting on what Scooer just said...about finding more work with us...He said he thought he could do more than he is now, and I said intriguing."

Well, Robin giggled. And Nigel admitted he could spell that word for beans, and Kermit said he didn't know the correct spelling anyway. And my conversation was basicly forgotten...and I didn't find more work, and they just shoved off home for the theater. I think I'll get more coffee.

Back. The coffee is great. Pity about my life.

Ever goofy,
Scoot

I agree...more when you can please!

Beau! You make me smile and laugh and I loved that chapter! I'm so happy that I could inspire you and gosh, I just really liked it! Keep writing more please!

"That word for beans." (chuckles) Robin, my friend, you have it easy. When I was in second grade, I once had a spelling test with words like photosynthesis and chlorophyll on it.
Beau, tell Robin that if he needs any help with spelling, just come to me. I was the three-time champ of our local paper's spelling bee back in middle school. But if it's math he needs help with, he'll have to go to the Count.