Muppet Fan-Fiction: Weddings Are Disastrous

AnimatedC9000

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And you said that I was gonna feel crazier.

This chapter was GREAT! Not only did you find a way for Animal to join the party, but the musicians were featured in the beginning and ROWLF AND SCOOTER GOT INTERVIEWED! YAAAAAAY! I would've loved to be there at the red carpet, talking to the Muppets... *sighs*

SU-PER JANITOR! Cleaning up crime! WOO-HOO!

This chapter is AWESOME! Can't wait to see what happens next!

~ AnimatedC (the not-so-crazy girl)
 

AnimatedC9000

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I just remembered something.

“Who are you wearing tonight?" she asked.

Animal blinked. “Wal-Mart!" he said.
My mom bought me an Animal shirt at Wal-Mart the other day... and I'm wearing that same shirt now. Coincidence, no?
 

TogetherAgain

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Chapter 18
Good number.

“Oops,” said Floyd as he watched Animal rampage off towards the limo, his chain dragging on the road behind him.
Heha! Oops indeed!

“That can’t be good, right?” Maggie asked.

“One can only assume,” Croaker added.

“Mee mo,” Beaker sighed.

“No,” said Dr. Teeth with a shake of his floppy head, “we don’t assume that’s bad, we know it is.”
I love the interaction between groups. Everyone knows their own group's quirks, but there's all sorts of new turf...

“Right on,” Floyd said with a nod for emphasis. “Oh well, what can ya do?” he asked.

I can throw the fish a-way—” shouted Lew Zealand, popping up from nowhere in particular, and hurling a boomerang fish from his hand. “—and they come back to me!”
Classic Muppet shtick. Classic Muppet quirk. Throw in a little Sesame, and...

Grover peered out into the distance. “But… it is not coming—WHA!” he screamed as the fish returned, whacking him right in his cute little nose.
HAAA! <Ahem> <kisses Grover's cute little nose all better>

Lew scratched his head and picked the fish up. He shrugged and grinned wildly. “Well, they usually come back to me.”
Yeah. They only DON'T come back to him when anyone other than him is looking. Whether or not "anyone other than him" includes the fish is debatable.

“Should we, like, go after him?” Janice asked, referring to the wild-thing that just jumped on the back of the limousine and was having a very nice ride, thank you very much.
Oh you're welcome very much.

“Hmm,” Floyd said. “Well, it would be fitting and proper.”

“All the more reason not to go after him,” Dr. Teeth said. “We don’t want to lose our unfit, improper image!”

“Exactly,” Floyd said with a laugh. “C’mon baby, let’s see watch Animal tear up the red carpet.” The hipster wrapped his arm around Janice’s waist and the two walked back into the Boarding House.

“Like, literally, fer sure,” Janice said.
<GRINS> <sigh> I love seeing the Electric Mayhem being the Electric Mayhem.

“You mean you’re just going to let him run loose?”
...Yeah... What's wrong with that?


<Ahem> I will hopefully return to reviewing soon, but the trouble is that now I have a guest here-- namely, my foot-- and I am hungry, besides, neither of which make for good mentality for reviewing. But... the sentiment is there. This is a fantasticabulous chapter, and I shall go into more detail at some later time and/or date. Possibly tomorrow, when I will have not one, but TWO guests here, and with a full stomach, well... :coy: I have no IDEA what might happen THEN...
 

TogetherAgain

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Nyssa: Especially since I had no idea what was going on since it was in the middle of a story that I wasn't even reading.

Lisa: Sarcasm, dear. It's called sarcasm. God save my poor little fingers.
 

theprawncracker

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Nyssa: Especially since I had no idea what was going on since it was in the middle of a story that I wasn't even reading.

Lisa: Sarcasm, dear. It's called sarcasm. God save my poor little fingers.
Death: WOULD DEATH DO INSTEAD?

Now, now, there's no need to threaten Nyssa for not reading... she's a busy foot. Always on her... feet.

Death: I WAS TALKING ABOUT SAVING LISA'S POOR LITTLE FINGERS.

Oh. ...That wouldn't be saving them though.

Death: TRUE.

...I need to have someone to converse with! :zany:
 

TogetherAgain

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Ah, yes. That was Vim's origin, you know. Or at least, the start of my realization that I have three minds. Complicated business, that.
 

theprawncracker

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It can't be more complicated than accounting.

Death: *nods* A DEATHLY CAREER THAT IS.

He would know. *stands proudly*
 

The Count

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*Coming in...
Deadly: Did I hear my name?
Count: Accounting for vhat?
UD: Meh... *Locks Prawny in his room with only the Gonzo poser, wondering how long it'll take him to either update or notice it's not the real Gonzo in there with him.
 

theprawncracker

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Chapter 19

Beauty, fair readers, is in the eye of the beholder.

But… only sometimes.

Sometimes ugly is in the eye of beholder.

Such as now for Sam Eagle, our beholder, who had a whole lot of ugly, Aunt Marge, in his eye.

“What’s wrong with you, Sam” Marge asked the eagle as they sat upon the wooden swing in the backyard of the Boarding House in the dark summer night.

“Oh,” Sam sighed, “just feeling a little blue.”

“You’re always blue,” Aunt Marge said stubbornly.

Sam let out a deeper sigh and gently rocked the swing back and forth with his foot. “Yes… I am.”

~-~-~-~-~


The trumpets blared and the crooning voice of the singer lifted over the heads of the few dancers beneath him. The stage was illuminated with spotlights and the dance floor glowed from the lights on the ceiling above it.

Mostly because the floor was so finely polished, it shone.

Unfortunately, there were few dancers on the shiny floor.

But at least it was shiny.

When Miss Piggy walked into the ballroom, she made a mental note to do something about that. (The lack of dancers, not the shiny floor.)

Guests decorated the alcoves of the dance floor like kids at a junior high dance (minus the gender-based division). Some of the attendees were nipping at food from the large buffet along the back wall, most just stood, drinks in hand, making conversation with each other.

The Muppets, however, ran rampant (well, Animal did anyway) throughout the ballroom. Rizzo made himself a comfy home in the napkin rack close to the buffet, Pepe made his presence very well known in the midst of four elegantly dressed women, Scooter walked around aimlessly, seeing if there was anything he could help with, Rowlf made his way to the stage and bobbed his head lightly to the music, Fozzie inter-mingled with directors and producers, producing jokes and directing laughter (trying to, anyway).

Gonzo and Camilla, surprisingly, were doing something very normal, which is weird by the standards of Gonzo the Great.

The couple was simply sitting at a table with Kermit and Miss Piggy, staring at the dance floor.

“C’mon Camilla, chicky babe, let’s tear it up, let’s cut a rug, let’s get jiggy with it!” Gonzo pleaded with the protesting poultry.

Camilla shook her head firmly and let out a quick cluck that most certainly meant “no.”

Gonzo huffed in frustration. “Well then why, Camilla, did you come to a dance when you did not intend on dancing?” asked the weirdo.

Camilla shot Gonzo a glare and clucked out her long-winded response.

Gonzo sighed. “You have a point,” he said.

“What’d she say?” Kermit asked.

“Hmm?” said Gonzo, looking up at the frog sitting across from him. “Oh, she just said that she doesn’t want to be the only couple on the dance floor.”

Kermit peered out onto the open floor in front of the table and frowned. “Yeah, that would be a little embarrassing,” he decided.

“Well it doesn’t have to be,” Gonzo said quietly, scooting closer to Kermit.

Kermit tilted his head as the weirdo scooted (which was usually Scooter’s job). “What are you doing?” asked the frog.

“Scooting closer so you can hear me when I whisper,” Gonzo whispered.

Kermit scrunched up his face. “Of course,” he said.

“Kermit if you and Miss Piggy head out to the dance floor first, then it won’t be as embarrassing when Camilla and I go out there,” Gonzo said.

“Why do Miss Piggy and I have to go out there first?” Kermit asked.

“Well following two big-name stars out onto the dance floor is normal,” Gonzo said.

“Since when have you ever wanted to be normal?” Kermit asked.

Gonzo shrugged. “Sometimes you sacrifice things when you’re in love.”

An old, yet frequently re-visited ache lurched in Kermit’s side. “Trust me,” he said, reminiscing of karate chops of old, “I know.”

“So you’ll do it then?” Gonzo asked.

“Well I’ll have to talk to Miss Piggy first, but—”

Miss Piggy was already standing, pressing the creases out of her dress she received while sitting. “’Bout time, frog,” she said, extending her purple-gloved hand for Kermit to grab. “Shall we?”

Kermit smiled whimsically and took Piggy’s hand in his. “Certainly,” he said. “I’ll have to speak to the musicians about a song selection first though.”

“Oh, allow me boss!” said Scooter, coming up as if on cue. The kid took off towards the stage, his coat tails flailing behind him.

“He sure is handy to have around,” said Kermit as he and Miss Piggy strolled arm-in-arm towards the dance floor.

“Mm, so are you,” Miss Piggy said to Kermit, rubbing his hand sensually.

Kermit squirmed delightfully. “Where’s your boa?” he asked Piggy absently.

“Moi left it at the table dear,” she said. “Wouldn’t want it getting tangled up during the dance.”

Scooter stopped at the edge of the stage and reached up to rap his fist on the stage floor. “Excuse me,” he said to the breaking musician who seemed to lead the troupe.

The musician took a swig of the water bottle in his hand and set it on top of one of the large speakers on stage. He fiddled with his cufflinks, looking extremely uncomfortable, and stepped over to Scooter. The man, with finely gelled brown hair knelt down in front of Scooter and smiled at the go-fer. “Need something, bro?” the musician asked.

Scooter nodded. “I was wondering if I could request a song,” he said.

“You gonna dance to it?” the musician asked.

“No, I’m not—” Scooter started.

“Then no requests,” interrupted the musician, starting to get up from his crouch.

“Well my friends are dancing to it!” Scooter said quickly.

The musician’s interest was peaked. “Do I know these friends?” he asked.

“Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy,” Scooter said proudly.

The musician grinned wildly. “Now that’s more like it,” he said. “What’d you wanna request?”

“Oh… umm, I’m actually not sure,” Scooter said.

The musician smirked. “I think I’ve got a song that’ll work for them.”

“Great!” Scooter said. “Can I tip you?”

The musician laughed. “Yeah, I’ll take a tip,” he said.

Scooter reached for his wallet in his pocket and the musician waved his hand stopping him. “No, no, I meant… well, who’s your tailor?” the musician asked. “I love that outfit!” The musician winked and got up, running over to the rest of the band, pointing out onto the dance floor twice.

Scooter sighed happily. “Another job well done,” he said.

“Scooter, Scooter!” Fozzie called, running up to the go-fer.

“And another just begun,” Scooter said to himself. “Yeah Foz?”

Fozzie panted and rested his hand on Scooter’s shoulder. “You’ll never believe this,” the bear said between breaths. “But I just met this girl!”

“That’s great Fozzie! Did she laugh at your jokes?” Scooter asked.

“No—well, yes, but that’s not the point!” Fozzie said. “She told me that she’d really like to meet you!”

“Me?” Scooter asked, shocked. “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Fozzie said, “but she’s over there!” Fozzie pointed towards a tall, thin beauty with flowing red hair, wearing a glittering lime green dress and glasses.

Scooter’s mouth dropped open as the woman waved in response to Fozzie’s point and Scooter’s gape. “Her?” Scooter asked.

“Mm-hm!” Fozzie nodded quickly. “Well why are you standing here?” Fozzie asked. “Go get her!” said the bear, pushing the go-fer in the direction of the woman.

Scooter gulped, straightened his bow-tie, and walked calmly in the direction of his admirer.

Fozzie sighed happily. “I always knew my jokes would bring people together one day,” Fozzie said.

“Well they certainly didn’t tear anyone up,” Rowlf said from his spot leaning on the stage.

The head musician moved up to the microphone standing alone in the center of the stage. The man wrapped his hands around the microphone and removed it from the stand. “Good evening Hollywood!” the musician said into the microphone. “Is everybody having a good time?”

A small smattering of applause signified that, yes, everyone was having a good time; they just didn’t want to talk about it, or recognize it as that emotion.

The musician frowned. “Good to hear,” he muttered. “The band and I are now going to play a special song, dedicated to some of the biggest stars in the industry, Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy!”

More applause exuded from the audience at the mention of Kermit and Miss Piggy’s names. Kermit, blushing like a child, waved sheepishly as Piggy waved lavishly from their spot in the middle of the dance floor.

The musician clapped for the two Muppets as well. “This song was picked by me, especially for you two,” he said to the frog and the pig. “It’s from Disney’s newest Broadway show—The Little Mermaid.”

“It’d better not be a parody of ‘Kiss de Girl,’ hokay,” Pepe said, schmoozing a random female. “Changing it would be an insult to crustacean pride, hokay!”

“And we the band sincerely encourage you all standing out there to join Kermit and Miss Piggy on the dance floor,” the musician said. “After all, dancing beats small talk any day. It’s the way your feet smile… or laugh. It lets you say so many things.”

The band began to play slowly, a violin and a smattering of trumpets and tambourines filled the atmosphere as the lead singer took his place at the microphone.

Kermit half-bowed to Miss Piggy, who returned with a half-curtsy. Kermit took Miss Piggy’s hand in his, and wrapped his other arm around her waist as Piggy’s free arm did the same to Kermit.

Dancing is a language that is felt instead of heard,” sang the musician.
You can whisper, sing, or shout
Without so much as a word
Try it, go on, like so…”

Kermit and Piggy danced lightly with the words, pacing themselves.

Just let your emotions tell your body what to do
See how much a single gesture can reveal
And every little step
Every single step
Is one step closer
To saying what you feel.”

The frog and the pig twirled lightly on their feet as the danced their way around the entire dance floor, turning every head at the party that evening.

Once the music hits you, inhibitions fall away
And you find that you’re expressing things
Your voice daren’t say
Don’t be afraid, let go!”

Kermit released Piggy’s waist and she spun gracefully, holding onto Kermit’s fingers gently. She spun back into Kermit, re-coiling her arm around his body as he did the same.

Soon as you surrender, what’s inside will sweep on through
As the boundaries between you disappear!
And every little step
Every single step
Is one step closer
To talking loud and clear.”

Kermit and Piggy began to dance a slight bit faster as the stepped in time with the music up and down the shining floor. The music seemed to follow them.

A dance is like a conversation
Except you never need to make a sound
And once you’ve begun
You speak as one
Give and take
Back and forth
Round and round...”

As the singer stepped back from the microphone for the instrumental, Gonzo bowed to Camilla and extended his hand for her wing. Camilla blushed behind her feathers and accepted his hand.

The odd couple waddled (literally) onto the dance floor and began to show the world why chickens didn’t wear shoes. (Because it prohibits their mad dancing skills.)

Gonzo and Camilla twirled around the floor on the outside of Kermit and Piggy, who had relegated themselves to the middle, swaying lightly with the music. Miss Piggy’s head was now lying lightly on Kermit’s shoulder.

Gonzo pulled Camilla in close and waggled his eyebrows passionately. “Ready?” he whispered to her. Camilla nodded lightly, her head lost in the clouds of Gonzo’s embrace.

Gonzo reached his hands underneath Camilla’s wings and hoisted her into the air above his head. He twirled her around swiftly as the music increased tempo. Gonzo held tight to his love as he brought her back down to Earth and regained their dancing pose.

“Kemie!” Piggy hissed. “We can’t be outdone by Gonzo!”

“Well Miss Piggy I don’t see how we could possibly—Whoa!” Kermit shouted as Piggy hoisted him up off the ground and into the air, much like Gonzo did to Camilla.

Except Miss Piggy, after twirling Kermit in the air for a moment, tossed Kermit from her grasp, towards the ceiling. The frog croaked loudly as he rose and then quickly plummeted to the gleaming floor beneath him.

Miss Piggy caught Kermit in her gloved arms and held his face close to hers. “There,” she said, “I doubt anyone will top that.”

Kermit shuddered and regained his footing (literally) and resumed dancing, albeit a little shaken, while the party guests clapped for Piggy’s Olympic-worthy frog-toss.

By now, numerous other couples became brave enough to join the Muppets on the floor. Among these were Scooter and his admirer, Pepe and two women, and Beauregard and a broom he’d found.

The instrumental drew to a close as the singer moved back to the microphone. “A dance is like a conversation,” he sang heartily.
Except your lips don’t ever need to part
And once you’ve begun
You speak as one
Cheek to cheek
Toe to toe
Heart to heart...”

The dance floor was now filled with all sorts of couples slow-dancing to the song.

Dancing is a language that is felt instead of heard
But it says much more than language ever could
And every little step
Every single step,” the musician sang.

Is one step closer…” Miss Piggy felt Kermit pull her the slightest bit closer.

One step closer…” Again, slightly closer.

One step closer
To being understood.”

Kermit reached up into Miss Piggy’s flowing hair and pulled her face into his for a kiss.

The audience cheered louder than they had all night—not for the band, because they were cheering too—but for the frog and the pig lighting up the already well-lit dance floor.

~-~-~-~-~

A large metal hook latched onto the under belly of the front of the limousine. The rope the hook was attached to pulled upwards and lifted the front tires off the road.

“First time I ever towed one ‘er these!” the tow truck driver grumbled, turning on his orange signal light on top of his truck.

“No, no,” said a security guard outside the truck. “This limo was rented to a frog, not a toad.”

The driver shrugged and snorted loudly. “Sames to me,” he said. “I gets the same money either way.”

The driver pushed down on the acceleration and pulled away from the gala with the Muppets’ limo towing behind.
 
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