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Leyla
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Whoo! I love it when updates come fast and easy! Rare though that is!
Count, yes, I did mean world (whoops) and Gonzo was of course, casting uneasy and unsubtle trout... wait, that was Lew. Um, looks were what I was going for. I shouldn't write late at night... but I write faster then... ah, conundrums. Seriously, thanks for pointing those out. I'm glad you like that chapter and the Rizzo/Piggy bonding. I started that scene before I read Ruahnna's latest update, but I was certainly inspired by her. No bad thing that.
Glad Fozzie's moments played well and I'm particularly relieve about the Crazy Harry scene as he's an odd fellow to write for.
Java and Renee (Yay, you're back!) Glad you liked the plate part. I wrote that on impulse and it felt very muppety to me.
Hope you like this next chapter!
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With breakfast out of the way, or back in its cage, as the case might well have been, Scooter rounded up the usual suspects to talk over that night’s show, and to debate which female pig would be doing the singing.
“Well, you’ve actually talked to her since the accident,” the gofer was arguing, “is she up to it? I don’t want her fainting on stage.”
“I don’t think she’s feeling very well,” Fozzie responded hesitantly.
“But we didn’t talk to her this morning,” Gonzo felt strongly that Piggy would want to do the show. “Only Rizzo did, and she did walk all the way back here. She must be at least a little better.”
“A walk she probably shouldn’t have taken. Oh, we shoulda been there for her earlier.” The bear pulled at his tie in dismay.
“We had no way of knowing she was gonna take off on her own, Fozzie. This is Miss Piggy we’re talking about. She should do the show; she’ll want to do the show.”
“There will be other shows, probably, and her health is more important. That’s what Kermit would say.”
“He’s not here, and I don’t think Piggy will see it that way. Besides, who’s going to tell her she’s not going on? You, Scooter? She hasn’t forgotten her karate, I’ll tell you that.”
In the end, Rowlf settled the matter rather handily by suggesting they actually ask Piggy what she wanted to do.
Gonzo tapped lightly on her door while Scooter waited close behind, anxious to get a good look at the resident porcine diva. There was no answer at first so he knocked more firmly. “Miss Piggy? We need to ask you something. Are you awake?”
“Um, yes. What is it?” The blonde did not open the door, though Gonzo could tell she was standing right on the other side.
“It’s about the show tonight. Could- could we come in? Or could you open the door?”
“Oh, right, the show.” Piggy opened the door just wide enough to poke her head out. “I- I don’t think I’ll be performing tonight. Moi needs to rest, and recover… yes. I won’t be doing it.”
Gonzo frowned at her in dismay. “But- Are you sure? That’s really what you want?”
“Why don’t you get Amy Lu to do it? The little homewrecker- uh, that lovely young girl could use the practice.”
Scooter nodded, visibly relieved. “Great! We’ve already got Annie Sue going over everything just in case.”
Piggy pursed her lips in annoyance, “Well! Isn’t that just perfect then? You are wonderfully efficient, Scooter; you never waste a moment on such things, do you?”
He looked uneasily at Gonzo, who did his best to convey ‘I told you so,’ short of screaming it into a bullhorn. “Uh-“
“Moi needs to rest now. Good day.” Without wasting another moment on them, Piggy withdrew her head and shut the door quietly.
After a beat, Scooter made a little note on his clipboard, commenting cheerfully, “That went better than it could have.”
“That went better than it should have.” Gonzo said unhappily. “I don’t like this, not at all.”
Scooter lowered his clipboard and pulled him away from her door. “Look, I know you feel badly about this, Gonzo, we all know. You’ve been moping all morning, but it’s going to be fine. Yesterday was a bad day, but things will get better, you’ll see.”
He looked straight into Scooter’s bespectacled eyes and saw his own naked fear reflected there. “I could have- I could have killed her, Scooter. That’s not-“
“We’ve had accidents before, my friend. Heck, we always get things wrong more often then we get things right. It’s just- part of the business.” He went so far as to sling a comradely arm over Gonzo’s shoulder. “As long as we keep going, though, we’re sure to come out on top.”
Scooter smiled at him in sudden inspiration.
“Remember, Gonzo:
It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish.
It’s not how you go, it’s how you land.
A hundred to one shot, they call him a klutz,
can outrun the favorite, all he needs is the guts.
Your final return will not diminish,
and you can be the cream of the crop.
It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish,
“Where are we gonna finish, do you think?” Gonzo interrupted.
“We’re gonna finish on top, Gonzo,” Scooter said softly and with great sincerity. “We really will.”
“I hope you’re right, buddy. I’d feel better about that if Kermit were here.”
“Wouldn’t we all.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
“That was great Annie! They loved- just a sec.” Scooter interrupted himself. “Swedish Chef on next! Let’s see, that’s the cherries jubilee-“
“Dere is big trouble, Scooty. Zee cherrees is tu depressee fer zee yubilee!”
“Too depressed?”
“Ya, shure, wery sad fer Old Yelly flim.”
“You let them watch Ol’ Yeller?”
“Gud flim abut poor leetle puppy dog.”
“Well, cheer them up or something. Tell them a joke.”
“Okee dokee.” The chef started to move off quickly. “Oon fer der funnee bear?”
“Sorry about that Annie Sue. You did a great- bear? Wait! Don’t use one of Fozzie’s jokes!” He started after the chef. “I gotta go, sorry! Chef? Wait up!”
“Zee cherrees needs a ha ha from der funnee bear. Is wery gud!”
“Listen, do they understand English?”
Annie watched as they ran off together, calling out. “Oh, that’s all right, Mr. Scooter. I just hope Miss Piggy feels better soon.”
Fozzie walked by shortly thereafter looking over notes for his act. “A frog walks into a bank… wait, have I done this one before? I know! Stop me if you’ve heard this one…”
“Mr. Fozzie, I couldn’t help but notice that no one is on stage.”
“Oh hi, Annie Sue. Listen, what do you think sounds funnier? A – Wait. Did you say no one is on stage?”
“I did.”
Fozzie’s face fell. “Oh no! Well, we have to do something! Uh, uh, where’s the line up?” He stepped to Kermit’s desk and started to toss papers everywhere in a panic. “Scooter?! Where’s Scooter?”
“I think he’s trying to cheer up cherries… or was that chair up cheeries, um…”
“Yikes! I gotta do something! I gotta, uh…”
“Maybe you could go out there and stall?”
Fozzie shook his head bleakly. “Maybe I could go out there and crash!”
Annie smiled, “Cute, cute joke.”
“What? About the frog and the bank?” Angry rumblings from the audience began to make themselves known. “Nevermind, I gotta go!”
The rumblings didn’t lose much volume as Fozzie bolted into the spotlight. “Hiya, folks! Hiiiyah!” He leaned forward conspiratorially towards the audience. “And when I, the bear, says hiya, there is no need for alarm, none. It’s a different story of course when the pig says hi-yah and then you should probably panic!” He waited hopefully for some sign of amusement but won only nods of agreement.
Better than nothing anyway.
“Speak for yourself, bear!”
“Better yet, speak to yourself! Doh ho ho!”
“Oh no,” Fozzie sighed.
“Personally I’d much rather here the pig’s ‘hi yah!’ than your hiya!”
“Yeah, usually it’s not directed at us!”
“Bring on the pig!”
“But don’t let her sing!”
Fozzie gave his most devoted hecklers as stern a glare as he could manage. “Miss Piggy is a, a classy lady and-“
“Classy lady! What class?”
“What else, heavy-duty!”
“Yeah, battleship class!”
“Battleaxe class!”
“You know what she really is?”
“Does anyone?”
“She’s in the amphibious assault class!” The pair dissolved into laughter and took the rest of the audience right along with them.
Fozzie was appalled. “Shame on you! Saying things like that about her after the terrible thing that happened yesterday!” He brought a paw to his mouth at his hasty words. “Oh no.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“Did the tax on pork products go up?”
“Did she discover what a boar she is?”
“She’s not-“ The bear tried to rise to her defense. “Boars aren’t ladies!”
“Neither is she!”
“C’mon, you guys, this isn’t nice!”
“But it’s funny!”
“No.” Fozzie had had enough. “No, it is not. It’s just mean and I want you to stop. Poor Miss Piggy is-“
Poor Miss Piggy was spared further humiliation, as well as the revelation of her secret, by the sudden arrival of the Swedish Chef and a dozen weeping cherries.
“Ah, der bear der haha comeedy. Pleese du wockah wockah der depressee cheeries?”
“Wha-?”
“Ya, der wockah.”
“Uh, wocka, wocka?” Fozzie obliged, utterly confused. Chef and cherries dissolved into uproarious laughter as the bear stared at them in consternation.
“I don’t understand any of this,” he sighed as they pulled open the curtains and the Chef launched into his signature song.
“Fozzie!” Scooter hissed from the wings. “Get off the stage!”
“Right, right. And now, the Swedish Chef!” Fozzie announced, interrupting the Chef’s song and throwing him off before throwing himself into the wings.
“I’m glad I don’t have Kermit’s job everyday,” he told Scooter ruefully before trying to find his notes again.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Count, yes, I did mean world (whoops) and Gonzo was of course, casting uneasy and unsubtle trout... wait, that was Lew. Um, looks were what I was going for. I shouldn't write late at night... but I write faster then... ah, conundrums. Seriously, thanks for pointing those out. I'm glad you like that chapter and the Rizzo/Piggy bonding. I started that scene before I read Ruahnna's latest update, but I was certainly inspired by her. No bad thing that.
Glad Fozzie's moments played well and I'm particularly relieve about the Crazy Harry scene as he's an odd fellow to write for.Java and Renee (Yay, you're back!) Glad you liked the plate part. I wrote that on impulse and it felt very muppety to me.
Hope you like this next chapter!
----------------------------------------------------------------
With breakfast out of the way, or back in its cage, as the case might well have been, Scooter rounded up the usual suspects to talk over that night’s show, and to debate which female pig would be doing the singing.
“Well, you’ve actually talked to her since the accident,” the gofer was arguing, “is she up to it? I don’t want her fainting on stage.”
“I don’t think she’s feeling very well,” Fozzie responded hesitantly.
“But we didn’t talk to her this morning,” Gonzo felt strongly that Piggy would want to do the show. “Only Rizzo did, and she did walk all the way back here. She must be at least a little better.”
“A walk she probably shouldn’t have taken. Oh, we shoulda been there for her earlier.” The bear pulled at his tie in dismay.
“We had no way of knowing she was gonna take off on her own, Fozzie. This is Miss Piggy we’re talking about. She should do the show; she’ll want to do the show.”
“There will be other shows, probably, and her health is more important. That’s what Kermit would say.”
“He’s not here, and I don’t think Piggy will see it that way. Besides, who’s going to tell her she’s not going on? You, Scooter? She hasn’t forgotten her karate, I’ll tell you that.”
In the end, Rowlf settled the matter rather handily by suggesting they actually ask Piggy what she wanted to do.
Gonzo tapped lightly on her door while Scooter waited close behind, anxious to get a good look at the resident porcine diva. There was no answer at first so he knocked more firmly. “Miss Piggy? We need to ask you something. Are you awake?”
“Um, yes. What is it?” The blonde did not open the door, though Gonzo could tell she was standing right on the other side.
“It’s about the show tonight. Could- could we come in? Or could you open the door?”
“Oh, right, the show.” Piggy opened the door just wide enough to poke her head out. “I- I don’t think I’ll be performing tonight. Moi needs to rest, and recover… yes. I won’t be doing it.”
Gonzo frowned at her in dismay. “But- Are you sure? That’s really what you want?”
“Why don’t you get Amy Lu to do it? The little homewrecker- uh, that lovely young girl could use the practice.”
Scooter nodded, visibly relieved. “Great! We’ve already got Annie Sue going over everything just in case.”
Piggy pursed her lips in annoyance, “Well! Isn’t that just perfect then? You are wonderfully efficient, Scooter; you never waste a moment on such things, do you?”
He looked uneasily at Gonzo, who did his best to convey ‘I told you so,’ short of screaming it into a bullhorn. “Uh-“
“Moi needs to rest now. Good day.” Without wasting another moment on them, Piggy withdrew her head and shut the door quietly.
After a beat, Scooter made a little note on his clipboard, commenting cheerfully, “That went better than it could have.”
“That went better than it should have.” Gonzo said unhappily. “I don’t like this, not at all.”
Scooter lowered his clipboard and pulled him away from her door. “Look, I know you feel badly about this, Gonzo, we all know. You’ve been moping all morning, but it’s going to be fine. Yesterday was a bad day, but things will get better, you’ll see.”
He looked straight into Scooter’s bespectacled eyes and saw his own naked fear reflected there. “I could have- I could have killed her, Scooter. That’s not-“
“We’ve had accidents before, my friend. Heck, we always get things wrong more often then we get things right. It’s just- part of the business.” He went so far as to sling a comradely arm over Gonzo’s shoulder. “As long as we keep going, though, we’re sure to come out on top.”
Scooter smiled at him in sudden inspiration.
“Remember, Gonzo:
It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish.
It’s not how you go, it’s how you land.
A hundred to one shot, they call him a klutz,
can outrun the favorite, all he needs is the guts.
Your final return will not diminish,
and you can be the cream of the crop.
It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish,
“Where are we gonna finish, do you think?” Gonzo interrupted.
“We’re gonna finish on top, Gonzo,” Scooter said softly and with great sincerity. “We really will.”
“I hope you’re right, buddy. I’d feel better about that if Kermit were here.”
“Wouldn’t we all.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
“That was great Annie! They loved- just a sec.” Scooter interrupted himself. “Swedish Chef on next! Let’s see, that’s the cherries jubilee-“
“Dere is big trouble, Scooty. Zee cherrees is tu depressee fer zee yubilee!”
“Too depressed?”
“Ya, shure, wery sad fer Old Yelly flim.”
“You let them watch Ol’ Yeller?”
“Gud flim abut poor leetle puppy dog.”
“Well, cheer them up or something. Tell them a joke.”
“Okee dokee.” The chef started to move off quickly. “Oon fer der funnee bear?”
“Sorry about that Annie Sue. You did a great- bear? Wait! Don’t use one of Fozzie’s jokes!” He started after the chef. “I gotta go, sorry! Chef? Wait up!”
“Zee cherrees needs a ha ha from der funnee bear. Is wery gud!”
“Listen, do they understand English?”
Annie watched as they ran off together, calling out. “Oh, that’s all right, Mr. Scooter. I just hope Miss Piggy feels better soon.”
Fozzie walked by shortly thereafter looking over notes for his act. “A frog walks into a bank… wait, have I done this one before? I know! Stop me if you’ve heard this one…”
“Mr. Fozzie, I couldn’t help but notice that no one is on stage.”
“Oh hi, Annie Sue. Listen, what do you think sounds funnier? A – Wait. Did you say no one is on stage?”
“I did.”
Fozzie’s face fell. “Oh no! Well, we have to do something! Uh, uh, where’s the line up?” He stepped to Kermit’s desk and started to toss papers everywhere in a panic. “Scooter?! Where’s Scooter?”
“I think he’s trying to cheer up cherries… or was that chair up cheeries, um…”
“Yikes! I gotta do something! I gotta, uh…”
“Maybe you could go out there and stall?”
Fozzie shook his head bleakly. “Maybe I could go out there and crash!”
Annie smiled, “Cute, cute joke.”
“What? About the frog and the bank?” Angry rumblings from the audience began to make themselves known. “Nevermind, I gotta go!”
The rumblings didn’t lose much volume as Fozzie bolted into the spotlight. “Hiya, folks! Hiiiyah!” He leaned forward conspiratorially towards the audience. “And when I, the bear, says hiya, there is no need for alarm, none. It’s a different story of course when the pig says hi-yah and then you should probably panic!” He waited hopefully for some sign of amusement but won only nods of agreement.
Better than nothing anyway.
“Speak for yourself, bear!”
“Better yet, speak to yourself! Doh ho ho!”
“Oh no,” Fozzie sighed.
“Personally I’d much rather here the pig’s ‘hi yah!’ than your hiya!”
“Yeah, usually it’s not directed at us!”
“Bring on the pig!”
“But don’t let her sing!”
Fozzie gave his most devoted hecklers as stern a glare as he could manage. “Miss Piggy is a, a classy lady and-“
“Classy lady! What class?”
“What else, heavy-duty!”
“Yeah, battleship class!”
“Battleaxe class!”
“You know what she really is?”
“Does anyone?”
“She’s in the amphibious assault class!” The pair dissolved into laughter and took the rest of the audience right along with them.
Fozzie was appalled. “Shame on you! Saying things like that about her after the terrible thing that happened yesterday!” He brought a paw to his mouth at his hasty words. “Oh no.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“Did the tax on pork products go up?”
“Did she discover what a boar she is?”
“She’s not-“ The bear tried to rise to her defense. “Boars aren’t ladies!”
“Neither is she!”
“C’mon, you guys, this isn’t nice!”
“But it’s funny!”
“No.” Fozzie had had enough. “No, it is not. It’s just mean and I want you to stop. Poor Miss Piggy is-“
Poor Miss Piggy was spared further humiliation, as well as the revelation of her secret, by the sudden arrival of the Swedish Chef and a dozen weeping cherries.
“Ah, der bear der haha comeedy. Pleese du wockah wockah der depressee cheeries?”
“Wha-?”
“Ya, der wockah.”
“Uh, wocka, wocka?” Fozzie obliged, utterly confused. Chef and cherries dissolved into uproarious laughter as the bear stared at them in consternation.
“I don’t understand any of this,” he sighed as they pulled open the curtains and the Chef launched into his signature song.
“Fozzie!” Scooter hissed from the wings. “Get off the stage!”
“Right, right. And now, the Swedish Chef!” Fozzie announced, interrupting the Chef’s song and throwing him off before throwing himself into the wings.
“I’m glad I don’t have Kermit’s job everyday,” he told Scooter ruefully before trying to find his notes again.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
