Fraggle Rock Fan-Fiction: Perfect Harmony

[TogetherAgain]

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW! <Glomps the Prawn of Prawns> WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW! And did I mention WOW! Good gracious I don't even know where to START but WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

I love Boober. And I love Wembley. And CANTUS <SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK!> AHHHHHHHH! WOOOOOOOOOW!

<GLOMPS the Prawn again!>

MORE PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!

 

[The Count]

An admirable beginning my prawny fellow... But the beginning is only the beginning to an end... To which you must endeavor to end. So soothe the chapters and ease the tale's troubled mind by posting whatever's to come and what will come will come to you and me.

 

[TogetherAgain]

...Ed, I think you've been spending a tad too much time with Cantus. That, or Prawnie just writes Cantus really really well. ...Must be a combination.

 

[The Count]

Ah, my young fanfic writer... The girl known of many minds and yet her minds are many and multiplied divided on the stories that have yet to be told, aching to tell themselves to her for her to tell them to us.
Yes... Channeling the spirit of Cantus is my intention, but is his intention not to channel himself into us and into the music as well? But his lesson has served well, as you have listened for Cantus in my first step, and listening for Cantus is the last step. If only Prawny were to learn that lesson and listen to Cantus to post more story, then Cantus would've been listened to well, and would love to listen himself.

So um, er, ish... Yes? Post more, the two/three of you all!

 

[Java]

Prawnie... I'm speechless... this is great!

 

[FraggleRockRock]

Ah, my young fanfic writer... The girl known of many minds and yet her minds are many and multiplied divided on the stories that have yet to be told, aching to tell themselves to her for her to tell them to us.
Yes... Channeling the spirit of Cantus is my intention, but is his intention not to channel himself into us and into the music as well? But his lesson has served well, as you have listened for Cantus in my first step, and listening for Cantus is the last step. If only Prawny were to learn that lesson and listen to Cantus to post more story, then Cantus would've been listened to well, and would love to listen himself.

So um, er, ish... Yes? Post more, the two/three of you all!

The only part I understood is:

MORE PLEASE!

 

[The Count]

Eh... You'll get used to us referencing each other by little nicknames won over time and over many fanfics. That some authors have yet to finish.
*Casts a knowing look over at the two halves.

 

[redBoobergurl]

Ohhhh, Prawnie, I'm just amazed by this tale! And I worry for what the Fraggles are in store for. I'm anxious to see what the Trash Heap will say! More please!

 

[theprawncracker]

Chapter 3

"Architect! Architect!" Cotterpin Doozer called to an elderly Doozer with a yellow visor hat and a white mustache.

"Cotterpin Doozer, there you are!" the Architect Doozer said. "Where have you been? Tunnel squad 81A needs someone to monitor their progress!"

"But the Fraggles are-"

"Cotterpin Doozer," Architect Doozer said with a strict tone. "How many times do I have to tell you that the goings on of Fraggles do not affect us Doozers?"

"But Architect, I think this time it really will affect us Doozers!" Cotterpin said.

"What Cotterpin? What will affect us Doozers?" Architect Doozer asked, getting annoyed.

"I... I’m not sure," Cotterpin said.

Architect Doozer shook his head and sighed. "Cotterpin get back to work and get your mind off of those Fraggles!"

Cotterpin nodded. "Yes sir..." She hopped back on top of her bike and started to ride away. "I’ll show him..." she mumbled. "I’ll prove that there really is something going on. Now where are those Fraggles?"

>< >< >< >< ><

"So you see Madame Heap," Gobo said. "That’s why we’re here."

"Did you follow any of that?" Philo asked Gunge.

"Not a lick," Gunge said.

"Well I did," Marjorie said. "Now little Fraggles, you want to know what awaits your home, yes?"

"Oh yes, Madame Heap," Mokey said. "If you please."

"Then listen up," Marjorie said. "‘Cause this is really important."

"Should we take notes?" Wembley whispered to Gobo.

"Wembley," Gobo scolded.

"My dear little Fraggles, a great tragedy is about to befall your home," Marjorie said. "I don’t really know what it is, all I know is that it won’t be good!"

"Germs!" Boober shouted. "Germs everywhere!"

"Could be," Marjorie said. "Like I said, I don’t know. But I do know that there’s only one way to get out of your predicament and that... I don’t know yet either."

"Heh, some all-knowing Trash Heap," Philo said.

"Watch it!" Marjorie glared down at the rat-like creature. "Or I’ll sick McMooch on you again!"

"Quiet, quiet!" Gunge said, nudging Philo.

"You can’t tell us anymore about this, Madame Heap?" Gobo asked.

"Hey, hey, hey bub," Gunge said. "The Trash Heap has spoken, alright?"

"Easy, boys, easy," Marjorie said. "I’m not done yet."

"Yeah, so the Trash Heap hasn’t spoken," Philo said.

"This is nuts, Gobo!" Red said.

"Ah, yes," Marjorie said. "But in a good way my dear."

Red’s face scrunched up. "What Red means Madame Heap-" Mokey said. "Is that it does seem a bit strange and unstructured to not know the answers. I mean, you’ve always known the answers before."

"Strange?" Philo asked.

"Unstructured?" Gunge asked.

"My dear Fraggles!" Marjorie said. "This is how I live! I mean, do you expect me to alphabetize my trash here?"

"I would..." Boober said.

"Life is meant to be unstructured and strange! But still, you’ve got to keep the natural order and learn to cooperate." Marjorie said. "Now boys."

"The Trash Heap has spoken!" Philo and Gunge said as Marjorie submerged back into the mound of trash.

The Fraggle Five looked at each other. "We were supposed to draw deeper meaning from that?" Gobo asked.

"Don’t ask us," Philo said.

"Yeah, we just work here," added Gunge.

>< >< >< >< ><

Pa Gorg’s possessions flew through the air landing in the garden.

"Aw, but dumplin’ lips, I didn’t mean it!"

"Didn’t mean what Pa? That I could have broken the chair even if the legs were glued on? Or that I could scare the fuz off a Fraggle?"

"Neither!"

Junior shook his head. "It’s happenin’ again, Geraldine," Junior said to a very large radish planted in the ground beneath him. "They’ll awgue, they’ll make up, then I’ll have to clean up this mess!"

Pa came scrambling out of the house clutching the back of his head with his hands. "Junior, go out to the tool shed and fetch my war helmet!" A framed painting whizzed past Pa’s head. "Ya may wanna grab one for yourself too boy!"

Junior grumbled and hoisted himself up off the ground. "But Pa I’ve got other chowes to do!"

"I don’t care about your other chores, Junior!" Pa shouted. "I care about my head stayin’ in one piece! Now go fetch my helmet!"

"Alwight Pa..." Junior sighed, walking towards the tool shed.

"I should’ve listened to my mother," Ma Gorg said from inside the castle. "She told me never to marry someone like you– oh why didn’t I listen to her? Why?"

"Oh come now pumpkin spice, it’s not that seri–" Pa was cut off by a frying pan colliding with his head.

>< >< >< >< ><

Sprocket peered out the mail slot of the workshop door.

"Still no postcard from Gobo’s Uncle Traveling Matt yet, eh Sprocket?" Doc asked.

Sprocket shook his head and shut the mail slot, returning to his bed.

"And still no sign of Gobo either," Doc said, eyeing the hole in the wall that he knew led down to Fraggle Rock. "He’s probably busy," Doc said. "I’m sure he’ll show up some time today."

Sprocket yawned, fiddling around with his empty food bowl.

"Hungry again Sprocket?" Doc asked. "I just fed you, boy, and you haven’t done anything at all today. The paper still hasn’t been fetched."

Sprocket rolled his eyes at the rebirth of a seemingly dead argument.

"Now, don’t roll your eyes at me, Sprocket," Doc said. "You and I both know that you’ve been laying in your doggy bed there all day long."

Sprocket shot his head up and barked, pointing at the mail slot on the door with his paw.

"Oh, yes, I’m sorry," Doc said. "You stood peering out the mail slot for two minutes. How bold of you Sprockey." Doc grabbed his hat off his desk and opened the door. "I’ll be over at Ned’s if you need me– and try and get something done, will you?"

Doc closed the door behind him and Sprocket grumbled, closing his eyes for a little nap.

>< >< >< >< ><

"So boss, what’s this big tragedy really all about?" Murray the Minstrel asked Cantus.

The somber old minstrel looked down into the Great Hall of Fraggles from the small, hidden cavern at the top of the Great Hall.

"Boss?" Murray asked Cantus. "You alright?"

"That would be a matter of opinion," Cantus said quietly.

"So I’m askin’ your opinion," Murray said.

"I do not know my opinion anymore," Cantus said. "But do any of us really know our opinions?"

"Uh... yeah, I do," Murray said.

"Do you?" Cantus asked. "Or were your opinions made by someone else?"

"Boss... c’mon, I’m tired, don’t do this now," Murray said, walking away.

Cantus turned back to his pseudo sentry post. He watched the Fraggles below continue to dance and sing, filling the caverns with music.

"I do hope whatever is to come about," Cantus said. "Does not silence the sounds of the music."

The old Fraggle spotted a Doozer construction being built in the Great Hall. "All kinds of music," Cantus said. "For it takes all kinds."

 

[Java]

After that chapter... I want to know what happens next! It's not fair to keep me on the edge of my seat this way!

Okay, in all seriousness, loved the chapter. Sprocket and Doc were wonderful. And Cantus... I think I've developed this thing for Cantus... simply wonderful.

More Please!