Fraggle Rock fanfic: Song Of A Midnight Place

Gah! How am I supposed to get to sleep now?

*Hee* So glad everyone likes it...
I just want to say that I'm sorry before I post the next part, I am not good at all at writing Jr so you might have to picture it as the words in his voice having his 'accent' yourself :3. I hope that is okay .

*singing ala the Between the Lions chorus* And this is why it's called a cliff hanger! ^_^

But, as all have said before me, more please! We need to know more about why Mokey is missing, why Boober is stuck in a rut regarding his possible relationship with Mokey, why Wembley is now embroiled in childcare duty, why Red still has to tell Gobo that...special something she needed to tell him, and why the Trash Heap has somewhat of an important part in all of this Fraggle madness!

*uncharacteriscally bouncing up and down*

The giant glass jar rocketed into the air and flipped over on its own accord by means of a pulley and wire, sending Boober crashing onto what was now its' 'floor' as a strong piece of metal screen slid over the top to form a lid.

Red scampered away scotch free around the side pathway to one side of the well, as the sound of huge footsteps drew closer.

"Well, well, well. If this isn't a pleasant surprise. If it isn't the well spoken Ornithorhynchus Fragglius specimen 397." A high mild mannered voice remarked.

The figure that loomed near had light purple skin and a mop of tan hair the texture of yard worn back in a single ponytail. A pair of glasses framed her wide nose, making her magnified blue eyes appear to be twice their normal size as she reached to get a pencil and notebook from behind her ear.

All and all, she was a very typical looking grog, the white sundress she was wearing adorned here and there with far too many pearls to mark her as anything short of a future overseer of The Universe.

"Let's see…my my my, your last check up was over six months ago 397, that just won't be satisfactory. I will have to start a compete a compete analyze again from the top."

Boober groaned from where he was now sitting cross legged on the jar floor.

"Can't we just not do it and say that we did?" He shouted up hopefully.

"No no no, I won't have my research paper based on anything but the most accurate first hand documentation."

The grog slid away the wire topping, reaching in to grab a very unhappy looking Boober, tucking him security against her body with an arm as she used both hands to write.

"Let me see now, male of early maturity…My my my, do you creatures have limited life-spans! Honestly, what respectable creature lives to be less than three hundred years old?... Of the long haired sub-genus of fragglius, originating in the cooler climate of the northern Fraggle Rock…"

"This is so demeaning…" Boober remarked as he was placed in a small cage upon a table filled with charts and beakers and a gigantic microscope.

"Not at all! Why, this is civilized!" The grog said, waving her pencil at him. "This is science!"

"Ow!" Boober yelped as the grog plucked a sample of his body fur with tweezers the size of a small tree.

"Honestly, would you rather I was chasing after you with a club like some dim witted barbarian?"

"Honesty, yes!" The fraggle shouted back, but his answer was drown out by another voice twenty times louder.

"Missy! Missy, I can't find my shoe!" Came the childlike whimper.

Missy Grog rolled her eyes with a sigh and yelled back in a well practiced harsher tone that bought to mind an Outer Space big-rig truck driver.

"Did you check under your bed?"

"Aw, there it is! Golly Missy, you're so smart. No wonder we're get'n married when our mommies and daddies get back from that grog gathering."

The furry form of Jr. Grog, taller than his female companion by at least a foot, stood in the doorway of the castle dreamily, wearing a princely shirt of blue and green velvet with puffed sleeves and pair of shiny black shoes.

"How do I look?" He asked in playful tone.

"Like a well dressed monkey." She replied.

"Why, thank you! You look nice to..Could you help me put on my sash?"

The smaller grog took off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose in exhaustion before going up to start tying the many decorations onto Jr's outfit.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear..." She said between her cliched jaw.

"The only reason I'm marring you is because you’re the only male within a lifetimes' travel of my own family in the universe..." She added, tying the knot a bit too tight.

"If I wasn't a true lady of breeding I would be telling you to take your wedding and…"

"Aw, Missy." Jr cut her off turning to kiss her on the nose. "I love you to!"

The young grog turned back to her examination of Boober, her right eye twitching ever so slightly.

"Now little fragglius, it's time to take your temperature…"

"Nooo! Anything but that!" Boober wailed. "Red, Mokey, heeeelp!"

Aww, poor Boober! XD
Awesome segment. Keep it coming. =3

Although I can't help but noticed that you repeatedly spelled "gorg" wrong.
At first I thought it was just another of your spelling errors, but you spelled it "grog" every single time.

Interesting Gorg character ... a few IQ points above the ones we know, huh? Poor Junior...

Two great additions! Missy is an interesting character, I like her. And now Red and Mokey both off to see the Trash Heap. And good old Boober...he's just so Boober!

Must read more!

It is a spelling error...The reason I always spell things like that wrong over and over is because I have have some dyslexia and a learning disability...So when I transpose letters I stick to it gosh darn it !

The Count might be able to help me unscramble them though

As The Count said, "Just keeping writing and it'll be okay". Oh, and...More please!

I just like writing all the fraggles, character interactions have always been my favorite things to write in fanfic ...that and scenes with food...

My number one pet peeve is fics that write characters out of character for the sake of romance. If it could really happen it is important that they are really themselves IMHO .

I will not be here this weekend, but I will still be writing while I am gone

Agreed, but then again, love makes people--and characters--do some really out of character things, you know. ^_^

I know it does, but even those are usually things that you can see as the normal growth of the character, not something totally out of left field. Even Mokey's depression is not really OOC if you think about it, or Red being shy, or Boober being...whatever Boober's being *lol* *hugs the poor Boober*.

Right. For every character evolves--or devolves--in some way.

Either way, I can't wait to read the next chapter of this fanfic, Red, because it's very well done. I applaud it whole-heartedly.

Whoops, I've been missing these updates! For some reason MuppetCentral hasn't been connecting for me. Oh well, more to read at once

I'm just glad everyone likes it . I have never written or really read in detail any other FR fanfic before so I am not sure if my story is that good or not compared to the ones that have come before mine :3

The sun shown down golden and warm, making even the lowly pile of garage that two mole like rats were rooting around next to look cozy and cheerful.

Red Fraggle scooted to a stop, breathing heavily before the tall collection of filth.

"Madam Trash Heap! Madam Trash Heap!" She gasped, trying her best to breathe though her mouth and not her nose.

Their oracle may have been wise, but her odor was not all that appealing.

"Whew, I finally got here! Oh, I have so many things I need to ask you about!"

Both mole rats looked up as if only now noticing all the commotion of the arriving fraggle, looking her up and down.

"You are in the presence of the all knowing…" The pink rat began.

"All seeing…" The grey one added.

"Trash Heap! Nah!" Both announced together.

"But if I was you, I'd get out of that presence right now." Philo said, ruffling his dark pink fur.

"But why?" Red whined.

" 'Cause Marjory is in a state of disrepair." Gunge spat.

"I'll say, that last advice took all of 'er sensitive sensibilities, if ya know what I mean." Philo sniffed, nabbing a used tissue over his eyes and blowing his nose like a miniature trumpet.

"Last advice? You mean Mokey's already been here?" Red asked, hopping hopefully in front of Philo.

"Tall fraggle in a white robe?"

"Yes, that's her!" Red said, hopping faster.

"Maaybe she was here…" Gunge said with a half hearted nod.

"If she was, she left a couple hours ago." Philo sneered.

"Oh foo…" She looked one way and then the other with a sly curious look. " What advice did you give?"

The topmost layer of the pile of trash rose up slowly suddenly, it's contents rearranging themselves into a face, neck, arms and upper torso of what looked like an old gypsy with a bottle cap necklace.

"I make it a point never to tattle, young fraggle." It spoke in a warm voice that still held some of the tell signs of having been crying, lifting an old fashion looking pair of glasses without lens on a rod to her eyes.

"That's it Marjory, tell her off!" Philo agreed.

"Yeah, you've been givin' out advice like free popcorn these last few days, you're in no shape ta…"

Gunge began, but was cut off by a solid rap of the large glasses on his head.

"Now, now boys, down! I think I know when I've overdone it."

Marjory huffed, raising herself up to her full height proudly.

" I still got a few good ones in this old body of mine. After all, if it wasn't such a dirty job I wouldn't be doing it would I?"

"Now what seems to be the trouble?" The trash heap asked, leaning in with interest.

"Well you see…" Red began, taking a long deep breath.

"Aw no, this looks like a big one." Gunge mumbled, ducking his head into an old eggshell.

"My best friend, she was having trouble with something I wasn't suppose to talk about, but she made me talk about it, and then I wanted to make her feel better by making her feel worst, which made her feel worst and not better…"

The Trash Heap nodded as Red gasped continuing on with her long run on explanation.

"She actually understands all that "As The Rock Rolls" stuff?" Philo whispered.

"Impressive, ain't it?" Gunge whispered back.

"..and then she called me immature, and then I thought I might really be, so I went to go see my other friend, who is a boy and actually more than a friend to me, but we never seem to be able to…and besides that his friend , whose my friend to, tried to…"

"How old are you little fraggle?" Marjory interrupted.

" Thirty eight ma'am..but you see.." Red answered in a vain tempt to get back to her story.

"Ah, thirty-eight. You know that old saying, "True love with come to you…"

"Between thirty-three and forty-two." Yes, I know it."

"Ah, those are the days..you know, I had a man myself once…" The oracle began in a far away tone.

"You did?" Red said, wrinkling her nose in disbelief and an emotion she couldn't quite name.

"Why of course! Have you ever heard of a compost pile?"

"No, but I have a feeling I'm about to." Red replied, her pigtails wilting down from the disappointment of going even longer without any answer for her troubles over the subject of normally inanimate objects love lifes'.

"Wonderful steady job, composting. You have to really know your stuff." The trash heap rambled with a dreamy sigh. "Takes so long to get results you know…He had a great reputation with the worms, that one…"

Red's pleading voice snapped the oracle out of her glazed over expression.

"But what is your advice to me, Madam Trash Heap, ma'am?"

"Oh! Yes..that's right… My advice to you is: What matters more to you: What other people call you, and see you as, or who you really are?" She spoke with a serious wag of her hand.

"I don't understand…" Red said, her brow wrinkled with effort.

"My advice: Be yourself. Don't worry about what others think. Be yourself and everything will work out fine." The Trash Heap concluded, patting the little yellow fraggle on the head.

" 'Be myself ?' That's all?" Red repeated, some of her usual cheerfulness returning to her voice.

"You got it!" The Trash Heap relied with a yawn.

"Thank you!" Red yelled, getting on her mark again and quickly darting back in the direction of fraggle rock.

"Marjory, that was wonderful!" Philo exclaimed, zipping over to hug her, where he was quickly joined by Gunge.

"Yeah, you're really in your top form today." Gunge said with a smile.

"Well boys, as many generations as I've talked to, you learn a thing or two, and remember all their names to boot… but you know…"

"Yeah…?"

"I always miss the years when their biggest worries are missing hats."

The trash heap, as slowly and silently as it had awoken, drew itself back into the earth once more, just as a colorful array of breakfast scarps was thrown on its surface to bake in the early sun.

lol, Wow, Even the Trash Heap gets her share of the stress. =P