Chapter 19 "Here you are sir or madame, a pamphlet on the many services we offer here at Quintuple H Inudustries- or Q.H.I., as we like to call it." "Yes, please, take the time to flip through the pages of the brochure- and remember, we’re the official relationship counselors for the Muppets!" "I thought we cut that part out?" "Oh, whoops." "Uh, anwyay," Butch said. "Whadaya think, Kermit?" Kermit stood with his arms folded, leaning against the ticket booth outside the theater. He looked up at Pops inside the booth, who shook his head and chuckled. Kermit turned back to the new relationship counselors. "Well, guys, it’s... certainly... interesting." "In a good way or bad?" Clyde asked. "Shut it, Clyde, the frog’s complimenting us," Butch said. "Um, as I was saying," Kermit said. "It’s certainly interesting, but do you really think anyone would want to use you two to solve their relationship issues?" "You did," Clyde said. "Not the best point you’ve ever made, partner," Butch said. "It’s the only point I’ve ever made," Clyde said. "You’re tellin’ me," Butch muttered. "Gee, Kermit," Pops said. "You sure are hirin’ some weirdos lately, aren’t ya?" "Lately?" Kermit asked. "Oh, please, Kermit, please." Butch begged. "Let us plug our program during yours!" Clyde darted forward and began to kiss Kermit’s flippers. "Oh, yes, I grovel at your feet, Kermit, sir!" Butch dove for Clyde and hoisted him up off the sidewalk. "Don’t mind this one, Kermit, he’s not at all right in the head." "He’s right," Clyde said. "I’m more left-brained than I am right." Pops chuckled again, and shook his head. "Well, Kermit," he said. "At last ticket count, we’re only two tickets short of selling out tomorrow night." "Hm." Kermit thought. "Okay, Butch, Clyde, I’ll let you market your program tomorrow night before and after the show, if you buy your own tickets to see it." Butch and Clyde laughed and high-fived. "Deal!" Clyde said. "We’ll make at least three times the price of the tickets tomorrow night!" "Yeah, it’s fool-proof!" Butch said. Pops shook his head and handed the last two tickets to Kermit. The frog smirked and passed the tickets on to Butch and Clyde. "Only time will tell, I suppose." "Oh, uh, Kermit, one more thing," Butch said. Kermit groaned. "What?" "Can we get a ride home?" Clyde asked. "Me too," Pops said, leaving the ticket booth, and locking the door. Fozzie, Rizzo, Pepe, Sam, Clifford, Rowlf, Scooter, Gonzo, and Floyd came walking out of the theater. Fozzie came up to Kermit, hat in hand. "Um, Kermit? Rizzo, and Pepe, and I, sorta, um, ran away from the Studebaker," he said. Kermit sighed. "So you need a ride too?" he asked. "Si," Pepe said. "If it isn’t too much trouble, of course, Kermin. But, jou know, if jou can’t give us a ride, we will be stuck here with de spooky scary man of the t’eater, hokay? I just don’t t’ink my little prawn persona can handle such stress, hokay?" "And I’m not exactly sure how I got here," Sam said. "May I have a ride anyway?" Kermit sighed, and turned to Clifford. "What about you guys?" "Nope," Clifford said, twirling his car keys around his purple finger. "We drove here." "Well, we didn’t drive here," Floyd said. "Aunt Marge sorta gave us a push." "And then another push, right down the theater aisle," Gonzo said. "Sheesh, just get in the car." Kermit opened the door of his green S.U.V., and started the engine. <~><~><~><~><~> The tip of Aunt Marge’s face met Link’s nostrils as both of their eyes flared and glared. "What do you mean my fault?" Aunt Marge hissed at the pig. "I mean, it’s your fault, of course!" Link said. Aunt Marge pulled her face away. "Geez, you’re dumber than the girl pig!" "That’s the problem!" Link said. "Miss Piggy being dumb is the problem?" Robin asked. "Yes!" Link said. "I know someone who’s having pork chops for dinner," Skeeter mumbled. "She’s too dumb to see how much Kermit still needs her!" Link said. "Like, and you noticed it?" Janice asked. "Of course," Link said. "Man, I guess she is dumb," Skeeter said. "Who’s dumb?" They all turned around and stared at Miss Piggy, who was staring at them. "Ah, um," Skeeter stuttered. "Aunt-" Skeeter glanced at Aunt Marge, and stuttered some more. "Er, Aunt Jemimah!" "The woman... on the syrup bottle?" Piggy asked. "Yeah!" Skeeter said. "I mean... she... well... she says on her bottle that she’s both thick and rich! Who wants to go around saying they’re either dumb, or fat! Who cares if they’re rich?" Miss Piggy shrugged. "It worked for Paris Hilton." "Everything works for Paris Hilton," Skeeter said. "Yeah, and, like, everyone," Janice said. "Who?" Aunt Marge asked. "Oh, you’re here?" Piggy growled at Aunt Marge. "Yes, I am," Aunt Marge said. "Got a problem with it, porky?" "What did you call me?" Piggy snarled. "Oh, I didn’t call you anything," Aunt Marge said. "Just pointing out a physical feature." Piggy’s jaw dropped. "Brawk bawk bawk," Camilla clucked quietly. Skeeter nodded. "Dead frog walking is right." "You see?" Link asked. "This woman causes all of Piggy’s blind rage." "HI-YA!" Piggy karate chopped Link. "If you’ll excuse moi," Piggy said politely to Aunt Marge. "I must take this bothersome pest home." She grabbed Link by his boot and dragged him along the ground as she walked away. "Gotta get in good with the in-laws," Piggy muttered. "Er, well... not the in-laws anymore... I guess..." "Maybe if you tried to be a little nicer," Link said from the ground he was being dragged upon. "Ah, shut up," Piggy told him. <~><~><~><~><~> Johnny Fiama sunk down lower in the sofa and flipped through the television channels. "Man, Sal, I tell ya, I just feel so low," he sighed. "Well maybe if ya didn’t slouch so much," Sal said from his spot on the couch next to Johnny. Johnny straightened himself up. "No, no, it’s not that... it’s just... I feel like I let Skeeter down, ya know?" "Johnny," Sal said. "You do realize she was just dating you to get back at Clifford, don’t ya?" "Yeah, yeah, I know," Johnny said. "I just don’t feel like I’m doin’ a very good job of it." "Well there isn’t much to work with," Waldorf said from the left armchair next to the couch. "Mmhm." Statler nodded. "There never has been, that’s why the shows are so bad." "Ya know," Bobo said, rolling over to look at the two old codgers on his beanbag. "I’ve always wondered... why do you two live here if you hate us so much?" "Oh, that’s easy," Statler said. "Yeah, the old-folks home wouldn’t let us stay," Waldorf said. "Yup," Statler agreed. "No one takes a heckling better than you guys." "How do ya mean?" Sal asked. "Watch," Statler said. "Hey, bunny!" Statler called to Bean. "I’ve seen bunions cuter than you!" "Aw," Bean said. "How nice of you guys to think of me when you see your bunions." "Ya see?" Statler asked. "Huh," Bobo said, scratching his arm. "Most people would’ve called someone about us by now," Waldorf said. "Yeah, but who would they call?" Statler asked. "The exterminator," Waldorf said. "Why would they call the exterminator?" Statler asked. "Because the exterminator gets rid of pests!" Waldorf said. "Do ho ho ho!" They both laughed. "But they can’t call the exterminator," Statler said. "The rats have the phone bugged." "Rats, bugs, and us?" Waldorf asked. "They really do need an exterminator!" "Oogh!" The Swedish Chef shouted, barging in. "Ya huber de secret sooflee recipee!" "Dinner already?" Statler asked. "Don’t forget to take your pill," Waldorf said. "Why would I pay the bill?" Statler asked. "I live here!" "D’oh, you’re hearing aid’s busted again!" Waldorf shouted. "No it’s not," Statler said. "I just have selective hearing." "You old coot!" Waldorf said. "You flatter me," Statler said, getting up to go to the dinner table. "Someone has to," Waldorf said, following Statler into the kitchen. Johnny and Sal exchanged glances. "Sal?" Johnny said. "Yeah, Johnny?" Sal asked. "If I ever get like that, please kill me." "You got it, Johnny."