Fraggle Rock fanfic: Those Of The Black Snow

Redsonga

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Author's Note:
This whole idea came about from thinking too much about something someone, who I am very grateful to, said about Boober not being like other fraggles, and why maybe, he might be like the Boober we all know and love today. I guess you could call this a sort of background story of Boober, or a Christmas story, or a Festival of The Bells story, or a story story. Again, it is more that a bit depressing and sad, but maybe then, that is part of the stories heart in itself. This is set many years before Song Of A Midnight Place, not long after the end of the series...

Those Of The Black Snow
By Alicorn (aka Redsonga aka Alicornmoon )

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Prologue
*****************

The room that glowed with the soft light tiny bulbs all colors of the rainbow in the novelty shape of chill peppers was very welcoming as dark unoccupied rooms went.

It smelled of sawdust and grease, and tasted of that new unmistakable dusty cosiness of a well used workspace.

It had the look of a freshly redesigned home, with a work-breach and rocking chair at one end, and a worn dog bed at the other, overflowing with all the unashamed trappings and toys of a very happy spoiled pet.

The only flaw in this room, in fact, was a gapping hole in a side wall. The hole was large and ragged around the edges, looking as if it had always been there, made by some family of dust-bowl age oversized rats bent on termite like destruction.

If one looked close enough at it to, they might even see a flash of color and the notes of a faint melody.

But this hole if anyone asked, (and they were not in the habit of taking any time out of their busy lives for singing holes in walls) was only a few months old.

Even more oddly, the hole happened to have what seemed to be a homemade kindergarten style cubby hole consulted right against the corner next to it.
But then, the owner of this particular room was known to be a little particular himself…

"I can't believe it Sprocket, of all the crazy mad houses!"

The chill pepper lights jingled slightly on their stings at the steer force of the door being flung open in rage. The sound of a dog's tried whimper carried in on the cold night air, followed quickly by the thud of wood on flooring.

"You'd think half of Arizona had put off Christmas shopping until the last week…!"

The older man, wearing an odd mix of a long sleeved dress shirt and flip-flops with shorts bustled into the doorway in a fluster, his grey hair tossed and his glasses as-cue as if he had just been in a small scale war.

An old gray and white sheepdog scampered at a well practiced pace between the man's legs, and sat down at a safe distance.

"And would you look at this tree? Just look at it!" Doc exclaimed, pounding the offending tree base on the workshop floor with all the dramatic flare of putting a flag down to clam a mountain.

The tree was barely four feet tall, not counting a broken top limb, with long finger-like branches spaced few and far between, covered with pale green needles that were interrupted every half foot or so with patches of yellowish brown.

"Downright puny, isn't it?"

Sprocket barked in agreement, reaching out to sniff the tree tentivly and recoiling with a yelp as his slight movement was met with a shower of falling pine needles atop his nose. He gave it a last huff of disapproval, and turned to dig in a bag of odds and ends the man had just set down from his other arm as he continued to rant.

"Why, back home we use to use trees this size for kenneling…"

In the background the dogs tail wagged happily as he sent a shower of tinsel and blightly colored plastic globes up in the air and just a quickly stopped, his tail at sharp attention.

" …not highway robbery at $50 a pop…"

Sprocket paced up to his owner's legs at a proud skip holding something in his mouth, and tugged at the nearest neon green hem of Doc's shorts.

"What is it now Sprocket?" Doc grumbled, in the process of picking up a plastic globe from the floor and trying to hang it, without much success, on the small tree.

"Row-ro!" The sheepdog replied, in a growl that almost sounded human, letting the man take piece of paper from between his teeth.

"Oh, another postcard for Gobo?" Doc took a passing glance at the picture on it's side, the shape of what looked like a grand old castle on a cliffside, before handing it back in the direction of his dog.

"Germany this time.. certainly does get around..Just put it other there in his mailbox …"

Sprocket shook his head and barked, pushing it back to the old inventor with a hopeful whimper.

"Hm? Oh you want me to read it to you?" Doc eyed the hole in the wall for a moment before using the postcards side to block a whisper.

"Why Sprocky, don't you know it's rude to read other people's mail?"

He happened to glance at the words on the card just then, eyes wide as he reached for his reading glasses.

"Say..that's my name there, isn't it?"

Sprocket wagged his tail and panted with a smug smile, leaning in with the same curious expression as his master, as he began to read.

Dear Nephew Gobo,

Once again it is the season of the Wish Granting Creature and Food Cooking In Front of an Open Fire here in Outer Space.

The other day, I discovered that in some parts of this world the Wish Granting Creature will provide you with this cooked food himself if you are silly enough to leave your shoes out unsupervised overnight.

Let this be a lesson to you Gobo: Always look before you step.. into… shoes. The results may not be as tasty for your feet.
Ah hum, however and furthermore, I miss you all more than ever in this season, and wish you could share in the crumbs of my successes. May your bells ring loudly!

P.S.

Please thank Jerome for informing me of the true use for "money". While it makes sense in a silly way, I still think it benefits everyone in this world a bit more in fountains.

Love, Your Uncle Traveling Matt


"Hm, well, to each his own I guess." Doc remarked with a shrug, slipping the postcard into the cubby by the hole as Sprocket began to scoop up the many Christmas globes on the floor.

"Funny thing Sprocket, how the holidays always make us think of family far away.." The inventor mused, easing down into is favorite rocking chair in front of the sickly Christmas tree.

His dog pawed away, rearranging a blanket of cotton at the tree's base and slowly, ever so slowly, placing a globe with his teeth near it's top.

The tree bowed with a loud creaking sound to the left under the weight of the single piece of plastic, sprinkling a new shower of dead pine-needles on Sprocket's nose.

"I wonder what Ms. Ardath is doing Sprocky?" Doc said, gazing at the single shiny red globe with eyes that looked to be hundreds of miles away somewhere in his mind.

"Do you think she and Marigold even think of us anymore..?"

Sprocket let out a depressed whimper as he lay down in his bed, staring at the same bulb from below his shaggy eyebrows.
 

redBoobergurl

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Ooh, I'm so excited to see a new story from you! I like the beginning, and Uncle Matt's postcard. Anxious to see where this is going!
 

Redsonga

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Thank you so much for the nice review *hee* It is going somewhere don't worry :smile:. Like I said in the author's note, it is sort of a story of a story in a way, I just hope it is not too sad in the end...It does have a silly creature song or two, but there is a good reason for that :smile:.
 

Gold Demona

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Awesome. I love Doc and Sprocket. =3
I love the story so far. It looks like it'll be another wonderful story. ^_^

Say, when you said "as-cue", I think you actually meant "askew". =P
And when you said "kenneling", I think you actually meant "kindling".
A kennel is like a stable for keeping dogs. =P
Kindling is stuff you light on fire. XD
 

RedPiggy

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This sounds really cool. Can't wait (is so glad to be done with mine ... sigh)!
 

Redsonga

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Thank you :big_grin:! I was beginning to worry no one liked my idea for a moment, I know I am out of season, but I know many of you love Boober like I do :3. I guess it will be my Christmas in July fic *lol* I fixed the spelling of my fixable copies on other sites...
The next part should be ready soon :smile:.
 

The Count

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Yes... Please post more.
BTW: Congratulations on becoming a Senior Member. Here's your Kermit The Frog badge with your name in silver lettering on the collar. Welcome to the club.
 

Redsonga

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Meanwhile, within the hole in the wall, down tunnels that twisted and turned and smelled of roots crawling with trapdoor spiders....

Where small singing fuzzy moles that looked like miniature elephants huddled ,shivering, around the large underground pond that was now covered in ice...

And down two flights of craved out stairways, things were bustling in Fraggle Rock for a group of fraggles.

This would not have been anything out of the ordinary for the small furry creatures that loved to run and play and swim more than anything in the universe, if it wasn't for the fact that it was the middle of winter and the room where all the fuss happened to be coming from was the kitchen, not the ice skating path.

Boober took a deep breath, readying himself as his unseen gaze under his bright feather like red hair fixed itself on some point before him.

“Oven mitts.” He said in a flat serious voice of an army commander.

“Oven mitts!" Gobo replied, as he slipped the one yellow radish print oven mitt onto one of Boober's hands, and Wembley mirrored him on the other side of their friend.

“Mask.”

“Mask!" Wembley replied cheerfully, slipping what like a beekeepers hood made out of fine hand-woven mesh over Boober's head.

“Stick!" Boober added lastly, reaching out his oven mitted hands.

“Stick...” Gobo replied with a reluctant tone as he slowly handed over a worn looking hockey stick, polished with age, stopping halfway though “Are you sure this won't hurt Susabell?"

“Gobo I swear your stick will be fine! It's for the greater good..and it's non-acidic.” Boober added .

“ Really? Well, I guess, when you put it that way...” Gobo mumbled handing other his beloved possession.

“Your hockey stick is simply the only thing long enough for this noble endeavor...”

Boober tapped the side of the giant bowl in front of the three with a nod.

It was easily three fraggles wide and two fraggles deep, and was filled to the brim with a thick mixture the color of cinnamon, that now and then let out a menacing bubble.

“But why's your in..dev..er have to be in such a big bowl anyway?" Wembley asked, already on his tiptoes and halfway reaching out a finger toward the dough before Boober poked his hand away mid-taste test.

“Yeah Boober, what's with all the cooking in bulk eh? ” Gobo tipped his head to the side, looking a bit distracted. “If you hadn't asked us to help you make so much I could have been getting Uncle Matt's...”

Boober lowered down the front mesh of the mask and twisted the edges of his mitts as he gripped the stick, with a rare glint of determination showing in the firmly truned down edge of his mouth.

“Guys, sometimes a fraggle has to do what a fraggle has to do, now grab a leg and stir!"

Moments later the bright happy, if a bit cold sounding vioce of Red fraggle could be heard, taking the stars two at a time ahead of her body.

“Hey Gobo, the northern sweetwater lake froze over last night! You wanta see my double twist...” Red, dressed head to toe in shaves , her favorite hat, and a shiny pair of red ice skates, came to a shocked skidding stop. “What in the wide space are you three doing?"

Both Gobo and Wembley now stood on top of a wide, shaky looking step ladder, propped up against the side of bowl, each tightly griping the leg of the much smaller Boober and whipping him slowly from side to side as he mixed the concoction in brisk circles with the hockey stick, flinging spatters of it upward like gooey rain.

“I'm making Knackengoocans.” Boober yelled down simply.

“Knaken whatas ?" Red asked, starting to skate in lazy loops around the outter rim of the cooking cave.

“Darned if we know.” Gobo interjected with shrug, as they both set Boober back down on the ladder with a groan and sat, exhausted.

“Yeah, one moment, we've just walking along on the way to get our stakes and then bam! Boober grabs us and says he'll give us peppermint doozer stick twists...”

Wembley explained, licking a tick red stick he suddenly produced from somewhere in the depths of his banana tree shirt.

“It is real good though...”

“I know can't not real good for sure," Red said with a self righteous nod, skating to the left. " ...whatever Boober's got in that bowl...”

“...Even if it is so big.” Red continued, skating back to the right as she leaned part of her weight on her tail. “Sheesh, you could make a Giant Slurp hot tub out of that thing!"

Boober followed the restlessly moivng form of Red from where he now sat on a ladder step and cut in with a sigh.

“Red, Red, Red, I have to make enough for everyone !"

Boober zipped off to a tucked away corner and came back with a huge difficult looking book in tow, opening it to a well worn place and sticking it under Red's nose. The sudden onslaught of written words sent the young fraggle falling backwards with a yelp as Boober began to rammble.

" It's the traditional northern rock antifreeze food. First, you stir it twenty times wearing yellow mittens, then make them into shoes shapes, and stuff them with chokeberry jam canned on the 5th thursday of last sping, while wearing them, and spinning in circles reciting the traditional Prayer of The Winter Goddess….”

"What makes you think we're going to do any of those crazy things?" Red remarked, rubbing her behind as she got up.

" Since when did you get so traditional anyway?"

"Yeah Boober, I don't remember you ever saying anything.." Gobo reahed out to help Red to her feet on the icey patch of floor. "… about something like this before …"

Wembley nodded in agreement. "..and we've known you practically forever!"

"Everyone, don't you remember what happened last year?"

Boober shouted, his voice growing more and emotional with each passing word.

"We were frozen solid for a whole two mintues before Gobo rang the bell!"

The three other fraggles drew back from Boober's well known "ranting voice".

"Do you have any idea what that does to a fraggle glandular system?"

"Wait, um..Boober…" Wembley began, still chewing on his peppermint doozer stick with a rare look of thoughtfulness on his face. "If we were all really frozen how could you tell how long…?"

"..Not to mention the month needed to restore proper blood flow to the tail…" Boober concluded, not seeming to hear Wembley's question.

"It sounds like a bunch of huey to get us to eat another one of your half baked recipes if you ask me." Red said, playfully skating around the room and pulling at Gobo's stocking cap so leaned to one side as she went pass. " It'll probably kill us before it does any good."

"Yep, probably." Wembley agreeed, at the same time reaching out, slowly, carefully toward the overflowing batter on the side of the bowl with a finger.

"Oh, no no no." Boober said, rapping Wembley's hand yet again away from his materprice. "…they'll be fully baked and I can promise you…"

Boober rooted around in the oven and came back with a bubbling pot that brimmed with green luquid the texture of oatmeal.

Fling all the criticism you want to, you'll find no rigor mortis in my stew.

His friends sniffed it and fell over gagging.

Though our tastebuds may not always see eye, I can tell you something:

A hum grew up from the cupbaords as living samples of Boober's cakes, soufflés, and pies, started a 50's rock and rock chorus.

My food won't make you die!

A trayal of giant ants suddenly made their way across the kitchen courtar, all wearing hats and scarfs, and sang as they quickly started to carry the food away.

(Won't make you die!)

Say's you! Red remarked, aiming a snowball at one of the ants.

(Won't make you die!)

The snowball missed and landed in the stew, cousing a wave of it that splashed on Gobo, who overacted like he had been shot and fell to the floor with a gasp.

Morris's allergic to cucumbers.

Morris came by being carried on a stearer and holding a pickle, before Boober snatched it away.

Henchy to beets.

Henchy walked by chewing a beet and shrugged, seeming perfectly normal, as he turned his backside could be seen completely bald of fur.

Yams give Tosh big fat feet!
Tosh was carried by sitting on two of the giant ants as they carried her, waving her feet, each the size of a dinner plate.

All this keen observation is why, I know, I know, I know you won't die!

Boober poked a finger at Red's muzzle from other his thick book.

On this you have my satisfaction guarantee, wherever you get your food poisoning, it won't be from me!
Because my my my, food won't make you---!"


"Red?..." Boober's song came to a screeching ending mid- song as he reached an arm out to grab her sweater sleeve.

"Did you say it was cold enough to freeze over the northern lake out there..right now?"

"Yeah..why? Are you going to stop being a stick in the mud and ice skate this year?" Red asked.

Boober slowly put the giant cookbook that was nearly as big as him away in a chupbroad before speaking again, his voice low and measured.

"No..no…I like my mud just fine. I was only wondering…You know, maybe we should let this congeal for a while.."

He tapped the bowl and it bubbled as if in agreement.

"I..could use another frozen radish for texture…"

"I'll go with you, the tunnel is extra slipperly today!" Red laughed skating ahead.

Gobo shugged and started to trail after her.

"Ah well, I'm already late getting the mail anyway.. Say, where's Mokey?"

"Oh, she went up to see the Trash Heap, she'll want come to though…" Red shouted back at the three. "Better sing the thumping song extra loud today Wembley!"

"Who me? Really?" Wembley said, perking up.


"Susabell won't mind that much." Gobo agreed, carefully handing over the newly de-gooed hockey stick.

"Whoppie!" Wembley wooped, turning the handle up and beginning to beat it against the ceiling of the tunnel to a very slow, steady beat...
 

Pork

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Enjoying this alot. Really interested to see what's coming next...:big_grin:
 

Redsonga

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Enjoying this alot. Really interested to see what's coming next...:big_grin:
Thank you :smile:! I was beginning to think there was something wrong with this chapter from the silence *lol*.

The next part is almost done..this is where things start to get even more interesting :smile:.
 
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