Muppet Fanfic: Something worth waiting for

Leyla

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Hmm, well... what can I say... it seemed like fun!
Be gentle, I hardly remember the Muppet show from my childhood, I'm rediscovering it now.
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“Vous are being unreasonable!”
“I’m being unreasonable?!” he repeated incredulously.
“Exactly!” she growled, but not without satisfaction. “Finally, we agree on something!”
Kermit stared at her in stupefaction, mouth opening and closing in a fruitless attempt to find the words that would allow him to regain control of the situation.


A situation that started, like many before it, with a capitol “P.”

“Piggy,” he began, tension evident in every inch of his small green frame. The crowd of Muppets surrounding him leaned in expectantly, keenly waiting for the drama to unfold. “Piggy, you can’t honestly expect me to-” The irate blonde swept forward suddenly, her eyes blazing with blue fire. As one, the spectators scattered backwards; no one wanted to be within arm's reach when Piggy was this upset. Those farthest away from the centre of the conflict were at ease enough to discuss the matter in a civilized fashion.

“Five bucks on the pig!”
“Ten.”
“Five on the frog!”
“Jou must be kidding, alright?”
“Tactics, man, it’s all about the tactics.”
“TACTICS! TACTICS!”
“Remember, guys, this doesn’t effect the monthly pool!”
“Rizzo, you can’t change the rules in the middle of-”

Kermit tuned out the tide of voices washing over his ears with a skill born of long practice. He needed to focus on the problem before him. Truthfully, that wasn’t all that difficult to accomplish. Piggy was eminently capable of making sure she was being heard. Pausing, she sent a furious glare around at the undeterred onlookers before resuming her intimidating approach. Kermit watched carefully, assessing her mood in a split second.

Level 6, he decided, not angry enough to chop just yet. Chancing the risk that he might be wrong, the frog held his ground… and his breath.

“Why,” she hissed, almost inaudibly, when she was near enough for him to feel her breath, “are you doing this to me?” Another flash of those blue eyes, and Kermit winced as a pang of regret hit him. Not often, but every once in a while, Piggy would let slip the hurt which was underlying the outrage. He hated when she did that; it was the equivalent of an emotional Karate chop, and it was devastatingly effective. Any temptation of giving vent to his frustration in a tirade expressed more clearly in frantic arm waving than in words, vanished abruptly.
“Piggy,” he sighed, rubbing his head, trying to formulate his words carefully, “I am not doing this to you. It’s just how things worked out this time around.” Kermit was relieved when the volatile actress sighed mournfully. Level 2, much better. Muppets, some relieved, some disappointed, began drifting off to find other sources of entertainment. “I tried to talk to them; I really did.” She glanced away from him now, mood shifting like quicksilver, rapid and difficult to track. At least Piggy was listening. “It’s… they really only wanted one person on the tour and so…” Kermit trailed off, hoping for some sort of response. She still wasn’t looking at him. Reluctantly, he forged on ahead, “It’s not really going to be much fun, you know, rushing around, trying to make everyone happy, answering the same questions over and over until you just want to scream.”
“Still,” she murmured, genuine regret edging in on pathos, “Paris… in the spring.”
“I won’t be seeing it, Piggy. Living out of a suitcase, never having a minute to myself, it’s going to be exhausting.” Miss Piggy shrugged, non-committal. “I’ll be back soon. It’s only for a couple of weeks.” Kermit offered a sympathetic smile. She had settled rather quickly; this was going better than he’d anticipated.

Suddenly, she looked at him askance. “Why didn’t vous tell moi about this until now, Kermie?” Storm clouds began to gather again in her expression. “Looks like everyone else knew. Just how long have vous known about this tour of Europe?”

Time for the frog to backpedal as fast as his metaphorical legs could carry him. “Uh, well, you see, Piggy, uh, darling-” Pet names weren’t going to help him now, he realized too late. The invitation had been very specific about leaving “the pork” in the theatre. Two years ago the acerbic host had had a rather unpleasant encounter with the diva during an in-depth interview. Kermit did not entirely blame Piggy for her reaction to the biting questions and sly implications, but it did make things awkward when they needed to do promotions.
“When!” It was not a question; it was a demand.
“Er, I guess it’s been about a month, heh, but I wasn’t sure until-”
“What’s her name?” The question threw Kermit for a loop.
“Huh? I mean, pardon?”
“The girl you’re taking to Paris with vous. What’s her name? Does moi know her?” Where is she getting that from?! Piggy spun away from him sharply, tapping her foot angrily on the floor. Eight and a half… uh oh. Kermit wished he’d never agreed to take on this charity marathon. He was beginning to wish he’d never left the swamp. Peaceful, calm, completely pig-free…
“Piggy, you’re being ridiculous! I’m the only one going! There’s nobody else!” He had started to yell before he’d even quite realized it. “And even if there was, that’s none of your business, pig!”

Is that a nine and a half or a ten?
Whack!
Ah, ten.
Echoing footsteps and a slammed door heralded Kermit’s finding himself sprawled in an all too familiar position on the wooden floor. It was made slightly less familiar by Rizzo hovering over him looking less than impressed. Odd seeing the little guy from that angle.

“You couldn’t have kept it at twelve, could ya?” The rat shook his head in disgust. “If you’d jumped on that plane yesterday-”

“Rizzo.”

“I’m just saying-”

“Rizzo.”

“You couldn’t have ducked?”

Rizzo.” Kermit scrunched his face up in annoyance. “You want to try ducking, you just go right ahead.”

“Sheesh, grumpy,” Rizzo trundled off as Kermit crawled to his feet.

The frog glanced between a clock and the firmly shut dressing room door, wondering if he should try to resolve things one more time before leaving. There wasn’t much time and she needed to cool off. Piggy didn’t tend to hold her anger for long, however…

“Hey, boss, you okay?” He nearly leapt out of his skin at the cheerful voice coming from behind him. Kermit didn’t answer the question directly.
“Scooter, either Piggy or myself is crazy. I’m just not sure which one.” If it were only possible, the go-fer’s smile would have broadened.
“Aw, don’t worry, everyone knows you’re both crazy!” Kermit frowned at him with all his might. Heedlessly, Scooter continued on, “Gee, I mean, everyone around here is crazy. You oughta know that, of all people.”
 

Leyla

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Thanks! That means a lot coming from you! I'm hoping to get the next section up shortly. I have a ways to go yet!
 

Smiles

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This is great. I love how Kermit measures Piggy's anger. And how everyone is crazy, too true. Can't wait for more.
 

Ruahnna

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Very nice dialogue, and I like the way you've portrayed the Frog/Pig relationship. Piggy's high maintenance, but she's the one that Kermit picked--even if she picked him first! Keep going!
 

Leyla

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Er... when I said soon, I meant... er... not so soon.

Sorry about the wait. School got in the way of my writing, and I'm not used to writing for the Muppets, so I kept changing my mind about where to go next.

Ruahnna: Thanks for the support! I think I'm gonna have fun exploring Kermit and Piggy's relationship. I'm not sure I understand it yet. It's rather complex, but I like it!

Smiles: Aw, thank you! Crazy people are such fun to write for! Well, when I say crazy people I don't mean you, I mean... er... oh, forget it. :wink:

Super Muppet:Thanks!
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It was nearly four months now since Alec Caraway, representing the Angels of Mercy Children’s Charity had approached Kermit and the other Muppets about hosting a twenty-four hour live Marathon show. It was sure to be a fantastically difficult undertaking and Kermit had been more than a little reluctant to take it on, despite the glowing reputation of the charity. He’d listed his objections calmly and very specifically, secure in the knowledge that most networks would be reluctant to give up that much airtime. Mr. Caraway had nodded thoughtfully, apparently noting Kermit’s objections, then he went off and handily overcame them. Kermit was not privy to the actual effort involved, but the energetic, warm-eyed philanthropist proved himself quite convincing and persistent. NBC had offered them a spot stretching from late Saturday to Sunday night. Gentle-natured Kermit had nothing on the ability to resist abject pleading possessed by the average television executive.
So it was on with the show. Early on, poor Kermit had had a bit of a panic on discovering the show was going to be a live broadcast. It had taken Fozzie and Rowlf the better part of an afternoon to talk the frog out of changing his name to Steve and moving to Canada. They had relied heavily on logic to soothe his jangled nerves.
“It’s cold up there!” Fozzie waved his arms in an unconscious imitation of Kermit.
“You don’t really look like a Steve.” Rowlf offered calmly, his entire demeanor in stark contrast to the other two.
“They have snow all year round! And polar bears! Mean ones!”
“That’s true, Fozzie, and you know Kermit, Steves have troubles too. It’s not all sunshine and lollypops being a Steve.”
“You’d need a better coat! And snowshoes! And what about the French! What if they want to eat your legs?!” Kermit made a face at Fozzie, who was disconcertingly genuine in his concern.
“You do look more like a Steve than a Philip though.”
“You think?” Fozzie left off his dire warnings about Northern wildlife to consider the issue.
“Sure, look at the eyes.”
“I dunno. Maybe we should get a second opinion.”
“Good idea. Hey, Miss Piggy?” Kermit waved his arms in a desperate gesture to ward off Piggy’s involvement.
“Mmmhmmm?” she greeted them sweetly, eyeing her frog in a speculative manner not entirely different than a French chef might.
“Do you think Kermit look more like-”
And so on and so forth until everyone was debating the issue the frog had sullenly agreed to stay, “before I end up being Mortimer the Amphibian Impersonator.”

After all, the show was not all bad news. The publicity would be good for them, assuming nothing horrible happened to any of the guest stars. Also, the Muppet Madness Marathon would allow (i.e. force) them to use those acts that were seldom seen, rarely seen, and never shown in the regular show. It was a wonderful time to be an acrobatic penguin or a singing mushroom. In the end, Kermit had quietly stocked up on headache medicine and coffee before throwing himself headlong into the project. Once he decided on something, anything, that he considered important, Kermit was relentless in his choice. This was no different, and he had been working himself to exhaustion in the process of getting the marathon together. His closest friends were almost relieved that he would be getting away from the theatre for a while. A whirlwind tour wasn’t the most restful of experiences, but at least he would be too busy to worry for a while and Kermit would have nothing to do but sleep during the traveling.
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The door swung quietly closed with an ominous finality. It was official. The Frog had left the building. A familiar, almost friendly sense of barely controlled panic settled in immediately afterwards.

“So now what do we do?” Zoot drawled lazily, voicing the unspoken thoughts of the entire cast and crew of The Muppet Show. Scooter stared at his battered clipboard, hesitating. What would Kermit do? Rowlf and Fozzie looked at Scooter, then looked at each other and shrugged.
When the uneasy silence dragged on just a bit too long, it was Rizzo, small of body and large of voice, who snapped, “Let’s get this rehearsal on the road!” Gonzo opened his mouth and the rat hastily added, “the proverbial road! Not an actual road, people. Honestly…” and so he continued in like fashion, muttering to himself as he headed off to round up his rat compatriots.

A stock market of exchanged glances whipped around backstage for a second after his departure before the unlikely crew of entertainers scattered to their individual tasks. Unnoticed, Miss Piggy edged open the door to her dressing room and watched the frenetic activity unfold below her. After a moment, she turned her gaze to the table where Kermit’s cup sat in its customary place, waiting patiently for his return. She sighed mournfully before brusquely ducking back in her dressing room. Something had to be done about her costume for the Best of Broadway medley. Too many feathers in all the wrong places. Makes me look like a turkey, albeit a graceful, stunning, fabulous turkey.

“Mayhem band to the pit for Pachelbel’s Canon in D!” Scooter called brightly in Floyd’s general direction.
“Heh, heh, you mean Pachelbel’s Cannon in D- struction,” Dr. Teeth chuckled, beckoning to the other players. “Let us away to our stations.”
“PACHELBEL! WAH-HA-HA!”
Small crashes and complaints reached Scooter’s ears seconds later. “Whoops,” he sighed, “House lights up! And could someone move the bicycles?” The go-fer couldn’t resist a cheery smile. They had a show to put on in two days, and a massive project rapidly approaching, The Marathon. It was going to be an organizational nightmare and he couldn’t be happier about the challenge ahead.
 

TogetherAgain

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HA! OY MY WOW I LOVE IT! It's just hilarious and so Muppetational and chaotic and PERFECT! “You do look more like a Steve than a Philip though.” PRICELESS! And since I missed the first chapter until now, let me take this opportunity to say that I LOVE and ADORE how Kermit ranks Miss Piggy's anger. And I specifically love this line here: A situation that started, like many before it, with a capitol “P.” And these lines:
Leyla said:
Is that a nine and a half or a ten?
Whack!
Ah, ten.
MORE PLEASE!
 

ReneeLouvier

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I really loved this little chapter, Layla. It was cute.
 

Smiles

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Greatness! I loved the whole Steve thing, priceless.

And don't worry about taking a long time to update, your not the only one. *wink, wink*
 

Leyla

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Oh, thanks a lot gang! I'm hoping the writing will go faster once I really get into the plotline. I think I'm gonna have to get out my fanfic writing poking stick to prod people lovingly into action. There are a lot of good writers here, and it's so nice to relax while reading about the muppets!

Oh, and so glad you like it, TogetherAgain, I can't remember offhand what story you wrote, only that I completely adored it. ARe you still writing?
 
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