Happy Anniversary, Beautiful!

BeakerSqueedom

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A lumpy figure sat with crossed legs in a little pink chair, fiddling with two small little objects. Her blonde hair swung cutely whenever she swayed to and fro in her seat. She couldn’t tolerate so much patience, but she really did try by the way she pursed her lips tightly, turning gray from the pressure. The moon’s silver lighting peered through the window invitingly as little specks of dust twirled about. She snorted from the dust contact and scooted back. I could hear the legs of the chair scratch against the marble floor. My teeth chattered from the sound, I still stayed though. I tried to get a better look at what she was fumbling so much over. No success. The door was slightly ajar, too much movement would cause the door to creak open. It would alarm my sweetheart and I’d be in a whole lot of trouble with her. I took off my glasses slowly and lightly passed the blue cloth over the lenses, wiping them clean. I heard myself breathe loudly as I put them back on. My eyes widened at the thought of her having heard me. Being oh so silly, I held my breath. I pressed my back against the wall feeling a sort of familiarity in my actions.

I wrinkled my nose at the idea of me having done this before. My mom would have thought me silly, but what did she know? I looked through the opening of the door once more. There she was, still fidgeting with them. “Philly love this…” I heard my wife murmur sweetly with a little growl. My love looked at her creations that lay limply in her broad hands; I could have sworn I saw her frown at them. I couldn’t see in the dark well, but I could still perceive certain movements. I bit my lip sympathetically, suppressing the urge to rush inside and comfort her. I checked the time on my watch. I had been watching her for five good hours. To think she worked so hard, I couldn’t help but sigh lovingly. Such a wonderful wife she was (still is)—always working hard to please me. It’s a shame. Because, I was pleased to just be able to spend my life with her, to hold her each night, to steal a kiss when no one was watching, and all that romantic stuff. My heart got caught in my gut when I heard her cry. Feeling myself melt, I gently opened the door, allowing a bit of light to brighten up the room. Oh, now I knew why this was so Déjà vu’—that’s because this is how we first met!

“Composta?”

Her eyes widened at my sudden entry. I rubbed my arm nervously “I’m so sorry Honeybunch,” I started “I just heard you crying and I just wanted to see if you were alright.” The look in her eyes expressed shame as she twisted her adorable little handkerchief in her hands “Me no feel sad,” she snapped “Me just feel strange.” I shook my head and closed the door behind me. “Sweetie, that tells me you need a bit of a check up!” I joked. “Me no need check up from you.” Composta growled angrily. I could not help but feel charmed at her innocence—she really did hate it when I gave her a (medical) check up. I dropped the adult humor and turned on the lights. Finally, I noticed that the two objects were actually wax figures of me and her holding hands—it was our anniversary. “Wow, Honey I love it!” I exclaimed enthusiastically. She shyly looked away “Me no pretty so me hate me but you good to look at---me think you deserve girl pretty like famous star.” Her words drilled a hole in my heart. I smiled wryly “You’re not ugly…” I assured as I took my seat right next to hers. “Me am!” she growled shaking me a bit. “You are not!” I yelled back. “Me am!” she repeated loudly “You are not!” I cried. “Me not?” she whispered. I shook my head as a silent response.

“Me no have pretty body!”

“In my eyes you do.”

“Me am not special!”

“You are very special.”

“Me big and not petite like other girls!”

“You’re just a very strong woman—very sexy.”

We challenged each other for awhile. She knew very well of my persistence so she stopped. Noticing her stress, I guided her out of the room. After a few minutes, we emerged from the boarding house. I decided we’d take a little walk. I smiled at her. Composta did the same. I tapped my chin in silence. My smile widened as I saw the moon “A song…” I said. My adorable wife nodded “Our song.”

Once in your life you find her
Someone that turns your heart around
And next thing you know you're closing down the town
Wake up and it's still with you
Even though you left her way across town
Wondering to yourself, "Hey, what've I found?"

When you get caught between the Moon and New York City
I know it's crazy, but it's true
If you get caught between the Moon and New York City
The best that you can do ......
The best that you can do is fall in love

Philly, he does as he pleases
All of his life, he's mastered choice
Deep in his heart, he's just, he's just a boy
Living his life one day at a time
And showing himself a really good time
Laughing about the way they want him to be

When you get caught between the Moon and New York City
I know it's crazy, but it's true
If you get caught between the Moon and New York City
The best that you can do .....
The best that you can do is fall in love

When you get caught between the Moon and New York City
I know it's crazy, but it's true
If you get caught between the Moon and New York City
The best that you can do .....
The best that you can do is fall in love

“Me no feel ugly anymore…”

“You never were ugly.”

“Me love you lots, Pumpkin.”

“Philly loves you too.”

Author notes: I was feeling a little romantic. The story did not go as I intended but I found it sweet.I think this is the first fic dedicated to such a pairing. If you want to hear the song Phil sang to Composta...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQAOnkDWffw One-shot
 

Java

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Very nice. Nice song choice to. I have that on on of my cd's that's floating around here somewhere...
 

The Count

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*Rushes and glomps cyber-sister. Aw, that was soooo great Claudia.

Um, help me out... Is Composta rully a blonde too? See, Muppets Tonight was sort of during my decreasing sight period, shifting from high school to my first undergrad years.

But this is a rully nice story... Goes great considering that it's almost the start of the month of monsters. You might want to read my short fic, Be My ValennTomb to see why this might be a nice companion piece though it can certainly stand on it's own.

Thanks sissy.
 

BeakerSqueedom

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Composta is very much like Mulch.
She takes on a shape similar to Quasimodo in Notre Dame.
Her skin is a dark blue, her eyes are round with thin eyelashes, and wears a pink dress. She has thinly blonde hair that is tied in a pony-tail.

:smile: Hope that helps Eddie.

Oh, Eddie!
OF COURSE I'LL READ IT!
:stick_out_tongue: I love your stories.

Thank you Javie!
I love that song sooo much.
I always feel romantic when I hear it.

:smile:

Gee, thanks guys.

<3
 

The Count

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Thanks... It does, especially since as a result of Java (Melissa)'s help, I have a descript of Bobo as Quasimodo. There are plans for Mulch, but I'd like to know about him too, as there's a bit of melding confusion as to his appearance in TMS (Debbie Harrie) versus his appearances in Muppets Tonight. Oh, and while you're at it, feel free to read my other short fic, No Spring Chicken.

Have to talk to you in a bit sis, but I'll do so once I've truly decided what to do. *Hugs.
 

BeakerSqueedom

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Mulch has a round bump that is supposed to be his back. His skin is a dark blue, he looks like a gorilla mixed with a terrible invention gone wrong--very frankenstein-like. He has a messy patch of thin wild hair--his mouth is very large...yellow teeth. His movements are crooked in the way that he walks...limping...and let's see...a red shirt with white sleeves.

Hope that helps Eddie. :smile:
 

The Count

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Just reread this. Still a nice story. Bye.
*Leaves.
 
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