Chapter 22
Doc wrestled with something sitting on his desk in the apartment. He seemed to be trying to pry it free of something with a screwdriver in his hand. At the side wall, Sprocket stood scratching around the large hole, whining.
"Sprocket old boy," Doc said to his dog, "you need to try and focus on something else. I’m sure the Fraggles will be fine and Gobo and the others will come back to tell us all about it as soon as they can."
Sprocket whimpered and stopped scratching at the wall. He looked around the cluttered apartment looking for something to do. With all of the random stuff Doc kept around surely Sprocket could find something to occupy his mind.
"Come on now," Doc said, "surely there’s something you can do, Sprocket. I, for instance, am attempting to sew a button on a fried egg while it’s stapled to my desk." Sprocket tilted his head and looked with a confused gaze at Doc. "No, I don’t know how it got stapled to the desk," Doc said.
Sprocket chuckled and stood up on two legs putting his front paws on Doc’s desk. Doc reached over and rustled his hand through Sprocket’s shaggy gray-white fur. "Oh Sprocket," Doc said, "I sure missed you while you were off running around. What were you and the Fraggles looking for, anyway?"
Sprocket scratched his head, trying to figure out how to communicate this to Doc. He began to pantomime traveling by marching around the apartment, and then pantomimed Fraggle by scrunching down on the floor and pointing at the hole in the wall.
"Ah ha, I see," Doc said. "Gobo’s uncle Traveling Matt was missing so you set off with the Fraggles to find him?"
Sprocket nodded happily and continued to pantomime his story. He pointed at Doc then pointed at a globe sitting on Doc’s desk and motioned toward the location of Doc’s old workshop.
"Our old home?" Doc asked. "There’s no way you could’ve gotten there in the time you were gone, Sprocket."
Sprocket shook his head and ran over to Doc’s garbage pail and began to rustle through it, finally pulling out a postcard near the bottom. Sprocket pretended to read over it.
"Oh I see, you heard about the old workshop in a postcard," Doc said. "What about it?"
Sprocket pointed to the Fraggle Hole again and then made a groaning, dying sound and wrapped his hands around his neck, pretending to choke.
"Ned Shimmelfinny has a Fraggle hole? What does that have to do with—"
Sprocket shook his head vigorously and waved his arms. Sprocket pointed to the Fraggle hole, then fell over and pulled a white lily out of nowhere and held it at his chest.
Doc rushed out of his chair. "You mean to tell me that someone at my old workshop is trying to kill off the Fraggles?"
Sprocket jumped up from the floor and nodded quickly. Doc looked around and grabbed the telephone on his desk. "I’ll call Ms. Ardath, Sprocket, she’ll want to know what’s going on," Doc said dialing in a number he knew all too well.
Doc put the phone to his ear and looked sternly at the wall. Then suddenly he fumbled with the phone to turn it off. Sprocket barked questioningly at Doc. "Well what if she doesn’t believe me Sprocket," Doc said. "It’s not like Fraggles are just walking up and down the sidewalks in town everyday!"
Sprocket frowned and glared at Doc. "Alright, well they were today—but that doesn’t count! I can’t possibly get Ms. Ardath to believe that furry little creatures that sing and dance and play games are living behind the walls of her Inn."
Sprocket glared at Doc again and started barking at him. "Oh, come on Sprocket, don’t do this to me," Doc said. "I don’t want to jeopardize my relationship with Ms. Ardath now."
Sprocket smirked and barked a retort. "Of course I have a relationship with Ms. Ardath," Doc said defensively.
Sprocket barked something back at Doc. "I am not afraid to talk to her over the phone, Sprocket," Doc said. "I just know she wouldn’t believe me."
"Mm-hm," Sprocket said, nodding sarcastically.
Doc’s face grew angry. "Fine!" he shouted, picking the phone back up and re-dialing the number. "Ms. Ardath? It’s Doc," he said into the phone. He cleared his throat. "Yes, it’s Jerome."
Sprocket chuckled to himself as Doc spoke to Ms. Ardath.
>< >< >< >< ><
Gobo couldn’t wait any longer, he ran out of Fraggle Rock and into the Gorg’s garden.
He pushed his way through waves of cheering and singing Fraggles, being careful not to step on any wandering Doozers.
Gobo’s target was at the center of the garden. The gargantuan brown mountain known as Junior Gorg stood there, an intimidating, ever-present force Gobo was finally ready to conquer.
The confusion of the moment may have been highest within the mind of young Gobo Fraggle, who hadn’t witnessed any of the previous events of the day and only knew that the Fraggles were, he thought, at war with the Gorgs.
And Junior was indeed a Gorg.
Gobo blew past Boober and Sidebottom as he ran towards Junior. "Hey, I think that was Gobo!" Boober said. "What’s Gobo doing here?"
Sidebottom shrugged. "I dunno, but it looks like he’s headed for the big lummox of a Gorg over there!" Sidebottom said.
"Oh I hope this doesn’t lead to another song," Boober said.
Gobo had no idea how he was going to get to the eye level with Junior Gorg, but he knew he had to somehow. He saw a rock sitting near Junior’s foot, and he took the opportunity when it presented itself. Gobo jumped off the side of the Rock, gaining enough altitude to make him able to grab the bottom of Junior’s heavy tan shirt.
Junior looked down at the almost unrecognizable feeling of something on his shirt. "Oh lookie there," Junior said happily. "It’s Gobo!"
Gobo did not look nearly as happy to see Junior as he climbed up the shirt and finally reached the collar. Gobo tightened his grip around Junior’s shirt collar and pushed himself up to eye-level with the massive Gorg by placing his legs into Junior’s chest.
Gobo stared right into the mammoth black pupils of Junior Gorg. Junior stared back at the significantly smaller black pupils of Gobo Fraggle.
"Is somet’ing wong, Gobo?" Junior asked innocently.
Gobo took a deep breath and prepared to speak to Junior. Whatever he said here had to be tactful and heartfelt and meaningful. He stared into Junior’s eyes again. The Fraggles and Doozers scattered around the garden had instantly silenced.
"Dance your cares away."
Junior blinked as Gobo spoke. "Whadaya mean?" he asked after a few seconds.
"You Gorgs need to quit taking out all your problems on we Fraggles," Gobo said. "Dance your cares away! Why don’t you just leave us alone?"
Junior blinked again. "But—but Gobo, d’at’s what I’m twyin’ to convince daddy to do!" Junior said.
Gobo’s face softened and his grip on Junior’s shirt collar loosened. "Y—you are?" Gobo asked.
"He sure is!" shouted the World’s Oldest Fraggle from the ground far below. "This big fella saved us all from these here cages!"
"He saved the Doozers too, Gobo," Cotterpin called up.
Gobo looked around as all of the Fraggles and all of the Doozers shouted agreements at Gobo. He saw Uncle Traveling Matt, Mokey, Wembley, Red, and Cantus join up with Boober and a Fraggle he recognized as Sidebottom along with a small Doozer family at their feet. "Oh," Gobo said, "sorry about that Junior."
Junior shrugged and smiled at Gobo. "Don’t wowwy about it pal," Junior said, putting an open palm at his chest, letting Gobo fall into it. "I know you mean well."
Gobo smiled back at the Gorg. "Yeah," Gobo said with a nod.
"Does that mean we’ve reached Perfect Harmony?" Mokey asked Cantus, diverting her attention away from Gobo and Junior for a moment.
Cantus looked around the garden. "Almost," he said. "We’re nearly there, but there are still a few minds left to be convinced."
"What?" Mokey asked. "Who? Whose mind needs to be convinced still?"
"Did someone call for convincin’?" asked Convincing John as he and the three Fragglettes popped up behind the group of Fraggles.
"Haven’t you helped enough?" Boober asked.
Cantus put a calming hand on Boober’s shoulder. "I’ll handle this young Fraggle," Cantus said.
Cantus turned to Convincing John and smiled a smile that penetrated the hard outer-shell of the rambling Fraggle. "John, did you really support this idea of war?" Cantus asked.
John’s eyes grew solemn as he spoke with Cantus, almost as if he’d taken off a mask. "No, not really old friend," John said. "But you know how I am," John said with a chuckle. "I can’t make my own decisions, so whenever someone comes to me with a decision they want made, I bite it hook, line, and sinker!"
Cantus smiled and patted Convincing John’s back. "I understand my friend," Cantus said. "Just try and have some better judgment next time, if a next time is granted to you."
"Wow," Wembley mumbled. "There’s something ya don’t see every day."
Cantus turned his attention to Wembley. "And as for you young wembler—"
"Me?" Wembley asked, frightened. "Wh-what about me?"
"You are no longer a young wembler," Cantus said. "You’ve made decisions today, decisions that may have saved us all."
Wembley shook his head. "No, no, not me," Wembley said.
"Yeah, Wembley will forever be a wembler," Boober said. "It’s in his name!"
"What’s in a name?" Cantus asked. "More importantly, what’s in your name?"
Boober frowned as Red and Sidebottom laughed hysterically.
Wembley blushed. "Aw," he said sheepishly. "Well—I didn’t really—Red helped," he said finally.
"Indeed she did," Cantus said. "Red Fraggle proved today that bravery is in all of us."
"Oh Red!" Mokey said happily, hugging her best friend.
Junior knelt down next to the group of Fraggles with Gobo still in his hand. "So who still needs to believe in Perfect Harmony, Cantus?" Gobo asked.
"Yes, yes, tell us Cantus," Traveling Matt said. "Who is it?"
The answer came as Pa Gorg burst through the castle doors grasping his blunderbuss in his hands. His eyes were wide as he looked helplessly around his precious domain. "Alright you Fraggles," he shouted, "your time has come!"
World’s Oldest Fraggle jumped to the center of the garden and pointed his stick at Pa. "We’re not goin’ anywhere!" World’s Oldest shouted. "I say it’s time we took care of you!"
"They are the two," Cantus said quietly, slipping away from the group of Fraggles whose eyes were glued on the situation that had just heated up.
Cantus turned around and walked calmly towards the home of Marjory the Trash Heap.
Philo and Gunge observed this from their place atop Fraggle Rock. "Where do ya t’ink he’s goin’?" Gunge asked.
"Who knows?" Philo asked. "Just pass me another radish, this is getting intense!"
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Wild applause! Wowy zowie... Prawny, points to you for using Jerry's version of Come and Follow Me. But this, the Fraggles materializing out of the music... You're going to have to explain that one bucco. As for the plan to get the Fraggles and Doozers rescued, I hope to read that soonish. Thank you... Post more!
, how little you know of music's mysterious ways. Why, it comes to you like a mysterious and invisible... A mysterious and invisible... 
A mysterious an invisible what? I dunno, it was so mysterious and invisible, I didn't see it. Dixie Wailin', one of my FR songs. You done good chest of drawers. Now pick up the tempo and bring it home!
Can't wait to read the next part.