Monday Dinner Date

WebMistressGina

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Hello, hello, good people of MC! Here it is, finally, the sequel to Monday Morning Meeting. For those that haven't read it or forgotten the first story, our leading frog Kermit found himself in an impromptu budget meeting when making his way down to Muppet Studios. Present company included that of one leading lady, Miss Piggy, with whom the frog has a tenious relationship. Towards the end, Piggy introduced her demands, er, suggestions for her upcoming spots in a newly revived Muppet Show. Kermit suggests that they further conduct business at a dinner date, to be hosted at their previous dwelling.

And now friends, the first half of Monday Dinner Date.


Monday Dinner Date
*Sequel to Monday Morning Meeting*


The sun set behind the hills of California, signifying another end to the day and the start of another Monday night. People came home from work and got ready for their night out, while others got ready for their late night jobs tending to those going out to get a taste of the night life. For the entertainment industry, celebrities were out and about, promoting projects or just pal-ling around with friends and family.

In the glamorous suburb of Beverly Hills, the change from day to that of night heralded an upcoming meeting between a frog and a pig; this meeting of the minds was not a first in their everlasting relationship and was coming in the aftermath of a Monday that should have been just another day at the start of a new week. The impromptu meeting that had taken place earlier that morning had been the start of what direction the Muppets would go now that their name, studio, and theater were once again theirs to use and theirs to make into something they all wanted and dreamed off.

Stardom had been something that Miss Piggy had always wanted, ever since she was a little piglet in Bogen County. That was how she got into beauty pageants; what better way was there to get out of a hick town to that of celebrity status than to be a winner in a beauty pageant? And it certainly worked – her first big win in the county had led her to meeting Kermit and the rest of the crew that would eventually form the Muppets. That day had basically led to her big break. That moment seemed like ages ago, back when they were all young and starstruck and head over heels in love with the prospect of making people happy and getting their names in light.

Her name was back in lights now, even if she hadn’t faded away quite as much as the others had. Being the plus sized editor of one of the most famous and premiere magazines in the world was a spotlight behind the scenes, but had no less been a prominent position that brought the same amount of exposure had she chosen to exploit it. And ironically enough, she had chosen not to exploit it. Vogue had been asking after her for years and when a position opened in the Paris office, she had jumped at the chance. Not because it would be in Paris, a city of culture, lights, romance…

It was the romance part that had pushed it, not because she hoped to find it, but because she was escaping her own romantic trappings with a certain frog that could drive her crazy with anger and desire all in the same amount of time at the same time. Their relationship had more ups, downs, curves, and loop de loops than that of a rollercoaster at Disneyland or on Coney Island; one moment they were poised for a battle, the next they were cuddled up in front of a roaring fire; they went back and forth from professional co-workers to personal couple on an hourly basis sometimes.

Perhaps both had reach the threshold, the ultimate question of ‘would they, wouldn’t they?’ dogging them the way Animal chased a woman or Rowlf played a piece on his treasured piano. When she had said goodbye for the last time, the porcine diva seriously thought it was the last time that she would see Kermit or any of the Muppets. She certainly didn’t think that, years later, the frog would show up in her office in the guise of Muppet Man – which she still could not believe she had fallen for – and would be asking for her to come back.

Oh, Piggy was well aware that Kermit wouldn’t ask for her if he didn’t need her, but as any woman would tell you, there’s a fine line between showing it and saying it. And Kermit sometimes had trouble doing both. It had taken her the rest of the night and even the following day before she could honestly say that she couldn’t let them down; it wasn’t just Kermit who needed her and she knew it. It was their studios, the studios that they used to bring to their fans and audience their shows and their movies.

Without the studios, there could easily be no more Muppets. As much as she may have huffed and puffed over her actual feelings for them, Piggy knew they weren’t stupid – they needed her. The Muppets without Miss Piggy was like Van Halen without Roth, Guns & Roses without Axl, or Mary Poppins without Andrews or Van Dyke.

Just didn’t work.

Being back in the fold felt like old times and that morning’s meeting had certainly shown that things were back where they had always been, as though nothing had truly changed. That certainly seemed to be the way she and Kermit interacted now; their teasing and flirting this morning had felt the same, but there was still a bit of tension, especially when the frog had suggested dinner later in the evening.

At their previous home.

Piggy should have felt a happy twitter in the knowledge that Kermit hadn’t sold it or burned it to the ground after she left; in fact, by the way he had said it, it sounded as though he was still living in the house. And while yes, she was glad that he still felt connected there, she couldn’t help but be bitter about that too. It was supposed to be their house! The house in which they would have those bouncing baby figs and grow old together, their house. Piggy nearly did have half a mind to make the frog leave; after all she had built it, it was her house, but ultimately she hadn’t been cruel enough to do so.

And now, the prospect of being back in the house after so long seemed rather daunting. In the five hours since she had sat down to lunch with her capitaine, Piggy had gone back and forth in wanting to show up early just to see the house and canceling out right. To say that she was a bit apprehensive was an understatement! Lunch had been in an open environment and had been a small affair, discussing the past few months in regards to the movie release, the interviews, and when the next show should be done. It was an easy, professional type lunch, so much like the ones they had in the past.

It was dinner that would be tricky; dinner meetings between them were always hit or miss in regards to trying to keep professional conversation separate from that of personal (which never worked) and that of trying to keep any hurt feelings out of both.

Of course, she had only agreed to this because she needed to tell him her plans for the week and she wasn’t really sure how he would take it. She had done everything she could think of to just help pass the time, as well as her own anxiety until the car came to take her off to dinner. She had already showered, dressed, called the chef for the night, arranged for pick up, packed, and set her alarm in order to meet check out for her hotel room.

Turning blue eyes to her left, she noted the luggage that set ready by the door, the room keycard that was laid out on the desk, on top of the first class ticket to Paris, France.

~~~~~~~
 

Misskermie

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Oooooooooh, you should do more so I stop being facinated and stuk. Ooooooooooooh...
 

WebMistressGina

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Hey party people! I am very happy to bring you this next segment with the happy announcement that I am now gainfully employed. Yes, got the happy call just hours ago with the job that I was hoping to get and has now got.

Now I just have to worry about where to live until I find an apartment, but yay for employment!


The Beverly Hills location of her former residence was set apart from that of the rest of the neighborhood, which was of course by design. While easy to get to and located on a semi-regular route, their home was not something that was made to advertise that the famous frog and pig couple lived there; that had been Kermit’s input – or rather the input that she thought he would have offered if he had been aware of the project beforehand.

When the house had been built, Kermit had been a little shocked and in awe. He had been speechless, to the point that Piggy had been convinced he absolutely hated it, hated the concept behind it, and hated the idea of living with her. His reaction afterwards, turning to her and asking if she had really built a house for him, for them, had taken her aback. She had given thought to both of their personalities – his privacy and her love of the camera – as well as the idea of friends and family coming over or staying over.

The front gate had been her idea of course, with their images etched proudly within the wrought iron, along with an electrified perimeter to stop those who thought about jumping the fence. A long stone walkway led from the gate to that of the welcome mat at the front door and when entering the home, the feeling of welcome home permeated throughout. There was a master bedroom, an office for Kermit and Scooter to work should they come up with something, and two rooms for their upcoming bundles of joy.

In fact, one of those rooms had been planned out to be Robin’s should he come to visit.

The kitchen was probably one of the most popular places, only seconded to that of the living room with its strategically placed piano. Both were done with the thought that parties would be held there and they certainly did have their share of parties; their holiday parties seemed to be fan favorites; it helped that all of their friends were all entertainers, so there was no shortage of food, music, or good times. There was ample counter space within the kitchen to hold a variety of appliances or food trays; the tops had been done in marble, with a dark grey and black static design that blended well with the beige walls and flooring.

A kitchen divider island stood in the middle, which was the customary place to stand around drinking coffee and discussing the day’s events; across from that was the table, done in a rounded booth style. Though the idea had been for a pig, frog, and several little conglomerates of that to fit, it had been put to the test with a pig, a frog, a bear, a dog, a go-fer, and a whatever sitting together, trying to eat and read scripts at the same time.

Behind the table was that of the back patio, complete with an area for a patio set that surrounded an outdoor fire pit, that sat to the side of a cozy table for four, which then overlooked a medium sized pool.

Even without being on the actual scene, Piggy could still see and imagine every aspect of the house she built and lived in for several years. She didn’t even need to be in the vicinity of the building to remember every nuance that was the home they shared.

The car had arrived and she patiently waited for the driver to get out and come around to allow her entrance. Go time was now, as the backdoor was opened for her and she slid inside. She nodded to her backseat companion, taking the list that he handed to her, and nodding her approval of the menu for that night.

“You seem distracted tonight.”

“Am I?” she asked, turning her head to look out the window. It looked to be a nice night and the decision that perhaps dinner be on the patio looked to be a good one. After all, she wanted to put some space between her and the frog and their table in the kitchen would not allow that.

“The Piggy I know doesn’t just glance at a menu without first making sure that everything is set to perfection,” mentioned her companion.

That garnered a rather bitter chuckle. “Moi trusts your decisions, dearheart.”

“Hmmm…” the voice murmured. “I could’ve put pork roast on here and you wouldn’t have even noticed.” That got her attention, causing her to turn her head swiftly to glare at him. “Wrapped in bacon, no less.” And there was the glaring of the baby blues. “Ah!” he cried. “There’s the fuoco! The fire that isn’t as dim as you make it out to be.”

“If you want to see a fire,” she growled. “Keep talking and I’ll find a way to light one under you.”

Her companion waved her off in a friendly manner. “No need,” he said. “I got what want I wanted. Now, are you planning on telling me why you’re frowning? Does horrible things to that pretty face of yours.”

“I know that,” she sighed, turning back to look out the window as trees, buildings, and other scenery went passing by. “It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve been at the house.”

“Me too,” replied her companion. “I’ve so missed your kitchen. I always thought it so homey.”

“Well, that was the intention.”

“So why so glum?” asked the second passenger. “You’ll be back home to that frog of yours and you have me making dinner. I can’t see anything to be so gloomy about, especially on that beautiful face.”

Piggy patted the man on the knee, throwing him a coy smile while she did so. “You always do seem to cheer me up.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

The drive to the diva’s former home was quiet from then on out, though Piggy did make a better attempt at reading over the dinner menu that her companion had thought up. And as she had mentioned, she was very pleased with the menu, nothing too romantic nor too professional; basically the type of menu he knew she and the frog would enjoy. Being a celebrity did of course have its benefits and she was always willing to call in favors in order to get what she wanted; she was well known in Hollywood – and everywhere else – and there were very few people who didn’t immediately grant her whatever request she had.

Both passengers were spared the approach to the gate of the residence, having the dividing glass separating their view, and the driver had been to the home before, so there was no need to ask for the gate code or to even announce their presence before the gate open automatically to allow the car to drive up the driveway. Despite not seeing their final destination, the passengers easily felt a shift in the atmosphere.

Piggy’s companion noted that she seemed to tense as soon as the car stopped and he could almost see the professional mask being shifted into place. While he liked to count himself a friend of hers and that of the Muppets in general, he knew that he had only seen bits and pieces of what must be the true pig inside the diva; he had definitely never seen her nervous, especially when it came to meeting Kermit.

He only hoped this would be a triumph and not a disaster.
 

Muppetfan44

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Definitely like this story- great job so far and please post more soon!
 

The Count

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Please, o mistress of the web Gina (not to be confused with the Witch of the Web who we know to be named Revolta), ish there more?
 

WebMistressGina

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So I had a harrowing day yesterday, with my first ever car accident, that wasn't even in my car. Ugh, how does a good day turn horrible in the matter of minutes? :mad:

Anywa, here's more MDD.


The walk up the path to the front door was just as quiet as it had been in the backseat of the car. For Piggy, this was truly the moment of truth – she could, in theory, just turn right back around, but she had never been known to just turn around where Kermit was involved.

Oh, she knew how to leave him in a stuttering mess – hemming and hawing about this or that, or even leaving him in arm waving, thundering storms of volcanic proportions - but she had never backed down from him or anything that he gave; in fact, she just found that as a challenge she was more than happy to rise to.

But turn around and turn tail? No; Miss Piggy had never and would never turn around and head for the hills when it came to Kermit the Frog.

Reaching the door, the diva took a deep breath and let it out slowly, while simultaneously trying to decide if she should knock or use the key that was still on her keyring. Again, deciding that this was her house and she was going to use her key, Piggy dug out the stylish ring – which was an amalgamation of both keys and catchy little ornaments that equally declare her ‘diva’, ‘princess’, and ‘fashionista’ – and put the key into the lock, silently thankful that the frog hadn’t changed anything about the house, not even the locks.

Opening the door slowly revealed that even the inside of the home hadn’t been changed since the last time she had seen it. The place looked as though there had just been a massive cleaning – Piggy could tell there were some spots that had been missed, such as the dirt that was still pooled around the piano. However, she had to give the frog credit – the place hadn’t seem to have changed since she had last been inside. It felt very surreal, looking around her former home, being back there again.

Looking at the piano, she clearly remembered sitting around while Rowlf played a song or two; the couches where she and Kermit had several talks and sometimes did more than talking. Walking in more fully, she could just make out their kitchen table, where many a script change and show discussion took place; the patio where they sat outside and enjoyed the sun, morning meetings…and then, she saw him.

Dressed casually, which was as pretty dressed up as the frog got, she noted that he had just come from the back rooms, probably hearing her approach before she had even made her entrance.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

“Hey Kermit.”

Kermit turned a surprised eye at the extra companion, though he knew the person well. “Hey, Mario,” he replied, politely. “Piggy didn’t mention you’d be coming.”

“And miss cooking in the kitchen I love?” the chef asked, heading off to said kitchen.

The frog and pig met in the middle of the room, a weird standoff of sorts going on between them. “I thought you said you were making dinner.”

“Moi, Mario,” Piggy threw out. “They sound so much alike.”

“No they don’t,” the frog countered, “You cooking is completely different from getting Mario Batali to cook.”

“Are vous saying vous doesn’t enjoy my cooking?”

“Moi is saying vous doesn’t cook,” Kermit quipped.

Piggy sniffed at the comment. “If you were any other person,” she began.

“You’d probably deck me,” he finished for her. “But seeing as how you’ve done that regardless of who I am…”

“Must means I like you.”

“Hope so.”

“Would you prefer indoor or outdoor?”

Their moment was broken by their chef, causing the two to debate which seating they would like to utilize. “It’s such a nice night,” Kermit said. “Why not sit outside on the patio?”

Piggy quickly agreed, noting that sitting too close to the frog could potentially be disasterous. She needed her wits about her tonight, as it would be difficult enough trying to get through small talk and dinner before she needed to tell him of her plans. “Outside sounds just fine,” she replied, nodding to her dinner companion and heading towards the patio.

The patio had always been a nice retreat, especially when warmer weather permitted sitting outside during most of the day. The table that sat outside usually held four chairs, but they had never really used the fourth and it ended up as a secondary lounging chair by the pool. For those days that were particularly sunny, a table umbrella could be opened, allowing for additional shade while conversing or eating.

The two made their way out, taking seats on either side of the table. This actually suited Piggy just fine – aside from the pole from the umbrella – she could easily see her director and was allowed the additional space that she needed. This of course was the opposite of what Kermit wanted; as soon as she sat down across from him, his face scrunched up in confusion and a bit of annoyance. “Why’re you over there?” he asked.

“Pardon?”

“Well,” he continued. “You’re way over there. How am I supposed to talk to you if you’re so far away?”

“I’m not far away,” she countered.

“I can hardly see you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well,” he said, pointing to the pole that blocked his view. “There’s this pole in the way, so how am I supposed to see you and talk to you with this giant pole in the way?”

“First,” she replied. “It’s not that big of a pole. Secondly, I can see you just fine, so perhaps one of us – namely you – might need to stop in and get his eyes checked.”

“I am often blinded by your beauty.”

“Flattery will get you…”

“Everywhere?”

“Nowhere.”

“Somewhere?” he asked, with a smile. He had hoped the teasing would put them back on familiar ground, but he had known her long enough to know that while there was a small spark in those big baby blues of hers, she was not amused and didn’t seem to be taking the bait. “Piggy, let’s not start the night off badly, okay?” he pleaded. Patting the chair next to him, he asked, “Just sit next to me, please? I promise if I get out of line, I’m in the vicinity for a good chop.”

Resisting Kermit the Frog had never been a strong suit of hers, especially when he turned pollywog eyes on her, looking both hopeful and alluring. Heaving a sigh, she complied by moving over to the chair on his left, putting them both in close proximity of each other.
“See?” he asked. “Isn’t this much better?”

“For whom, exactly?”

Kermit shrugged. “Me probably.”

To say their pre-dinner conversation was awkward was an understatement, which was saying something because it was rare that Piggy and Kermit ever had an awkward conversation between them. Heated, yes; argumentative, definitely; biting, usually, but never awkward.

“Shall we look at my various demands?”
 

WebMistressGina

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Lo people! And Happy Memorial Weekend to those of you celebrating!

So my original plan for this next section was blown out the water by what my brain dictated to my fingers. There is a bit of a spoiler for the junior novelization for The Muppets (2011), but nothing big, just basically answered a question I had from the movie, which was why didn't Gonzo just front the money when he was the richest plumbing magnate in the world? Neither book nor movie however answered my question of why Scooter, young Muppet about Google, didn't also put up the money, especially if - if I base this right - he was probably JP Grosse's only surviving relative?

See, this is why I don't ponder about stuff:insatiable:

There's also a shout out to the great Slackbot!

Here's more MDD!


The discussion about all the items on Piggy’s scroll had gone easily enough, though it usually did. The idea of the scroll was as much of an in-joke as Gonzo launching into five different ideas for acts before he managed to get to the one he really wanted to do; a contingency plan, the weirdo had stated once, in the case that Kermit ever turned down the act that he wanted to do.

In most cases, the ideas for sets and wardrobe that Piggy had was sufficient to what her plans were and sometimes, a quick compromise allowed her to get what she wanted without bankrupting the theater or the studio. In times past, that conversation would lead into others, sometimes about the direction of the show or that of a movie scene or even the direction of where the Muppets would go period.

This time however there wasn’t really anything to say afterwards. In fact, the discussion itself had seemed rather strained at best; there were no jokes or even snappy comebacks, just a straight conversation about what Piggy wanted, what Kermit wanted, and what was the best thing for the show. The entire time, Kermit couldn’t shake the feeling that he had done a great disservice, not only to Piggy but to everyone. When he had learned of Tex Richman’s plans for the studio, he had been devastated; there was no way short of a show that they would be able to buy back the studio and thus the theater in which it sat. Thanks to Walter’s confidence, along with Gary and Mary’s help, he was able to get the Muppets back together in order to do that show.

However there were consequences to that.

While Fozzie may have been utterly grateful for being taken out of Reno, some of the others had been doing just fine for themselves without any intervention from Kermit. Sam had a regular segment on the national news; Gonzo was a multi-billion dollar plumbing magnate; Scooter worked for Google. And Piggy…Piggy had a life in Paris, clearly doing very well for herself without him.

And he had expected everyone to just drop their lives in order to comeback and save the Muppet Studios. Even Piggy, who had been so adamant about not returning because of him, had in the end return in order to help. Without even being aware of it, Kermit had steered the conversation over to her time in Paris, wanting to – secretly – know if there was a permanent place for her there.

“You didn’t get in trouble, did you?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“With the magazine,” he amended. “You aren’t in any kind of trouble are you, for leaving?”

“Let Moi worry about the magazine,” came the short answer.

“Piggy…”

“I will deal with Vogue, Kermit,” she replied, with no nonsense. “Actually, I’m glad you brought that up. I was able to get some leave in order to return to the states, however…”

“However?”

“However,” she continued. “I do need to return in order to get everything cleared up and of course, confirm my resignation.”

“Oh,” the frog whispered. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow night.”

The declaration lingered in the air for a moment. “I’m sorry for springing this on you at the last moment, Kermit.”

“No,” the frog said, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. I mean…Piggy, I’ve done you a great disservice; everyone actually. I was so worried about the studios that I hadn’t considered that everyone had a life outside of what we used to be. Did you know Gonzo was the richest plumbing magnates in the country until he blew up his own company?”

“Let me guess,” the diva said, sarcastically. “He kept all his money in his safe.”

“Of course,” Kermit admitted. “It’s Gonzo, but that’s not the point! Scooter was working for Google, the biggest company in the world, and was going to smart, scientific talks and I pulled him away from that!”

“Kermit,” Piggy said, matter of factly. “I told you that those guys love you; you inspire them. And not just to work together and kidnap people.”

It was the first joke they had otherwise had shared at the table and he couldn’t help but chuckle at it. He remembered his absolute horror at learning a small group of them had actually kidnapped Jack Black; Piggy’s heartfelt speech in regards to him being an inspiration to the others was tempered by the fact that he apparently was an inspiration for them to kidnap people. In the end, with time clicking down, he stoically took his place as inspirational kidnapping mastermind and followed them down to the theater. In hindsight, it was a horrible thing to do – the restraining order proving that point – but it did show just how much they were willing to do and how far they would go in order to keep the Muppet name alive.

Thinking about it, he wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or a concern.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she loved him, too, but Kermit wasn’t sure if that would led into something that didn’t need to be discussed. But isn’t that the problem? he thought; he wasn’t good at overt displays of affection and he certainly wasn’t entirely comfortable with heartfelt discussions on commitment and their romantic direction. But wasn’t that the problem? Hadn’t he been blissfully ignorant over the fact that his feelings and actions had consequences, especially when he didn’t seem inclined to act on them? If Piggy hadn’t been loyal to the Muppets themselves, they never would’ve gotten that telethon together.

The Muppets just were not the Muppets without Piggy; Fozzie had stated that plainly and the others – while never voicing it – certainly felt it.

But the truth of the matter was that Piggy had turned him – and them – down; she had said and shown that she was perfectly capable to get along without him. She had always shown that, while the Muppets had given her a start, she was her own woman and that people wanted her with or without him. The only thing that would keep her here, that would truly keep her here with him, was…well…

Him.

He already knew what life was like without her and the frog was painfully aware of how difficult it had been to see her and not actively see her.

“Kermit?”

He hadn’t realized he had gotten retrospective and that he had originally been asking her a question. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just thinking.”

“That would explain the smoke.”

“Cute,” he chuckled. “Cute joke.”

“And what, dare I ask,” she questioned. “Has you so distracted, Mon Capitain?”

“The same thing that always tends to distract me,” came the reply. “You.”

She gave a slight giggle, but Kermit could see her blush even in the dark. Now or never. “I owe you an apology, you know,” he began.

“Oh?”

“I said a lot of things I didn’t mean…last time.”

“You’ve already apologized for that.”

“No I haven’t and you know it,” he corrected. “Piggy, you know I’m no good at things like this and that was probably the problem. The truth of the matter is, I meant what I said – I have missed you and do need you, more than I thought I would. I love you; I don’t know why, but I do.”

“There’s a compliment in there somewhere.”

“The whole thing is a compliment,” he groused. “I’m obviously miserable without you.”

“And sometimes with me,” she retorted.

“Sometimes,” he grinned. “But not always. Listen, I know you have things to do, loose ends to tie up in Paris and all; let’s just have a nice dinner and worry about the other stuff later.”

Piggy gave him a critical eye. Leaving stuff off for later was what usually got them in trouble. “Worrying about the other stuff later is how we get into trouble, you know,” she quipped.

“I know,” he whispered. “But this time, I think it’s important we don’t put it off. Okay?”

“Of course, Mon Cher.”

It was the first time she had called him that in years and the pretty smile that accompanied it sent a shiver down his spine and lifted his heart just a little.
 
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