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Muppet Terror....

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by Beauregard, Jul 7, 2005.

  1. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    This fan-fic is dedicated to the two lives that have been so far reported as lost from the bombings in London this morning...


    Rowlf got onto the train at King’s Cross station at 10:00 am. He sat down between a fat woman with a wide-brimmed hat and a rabbit in a pet-carrier on her knees, and a gentleman with a morning paper. They travelled in silence for a few minutes, then Rowlf risked conversation. “Travel often?” he asked the fat woman.

    The woman gave him a long glare down her nose. “Hmpf,” she said. She got up, and moved across the carriage to another empty seat.

    “What did I say?” Rowlf murmured. “I wasn’t even scratching or anythi-“

    A massive bang jolted the train. The animal cage slipped from the fat woman’s grasp. It hit the floor. The cage broke open. The gentleman was flung forward. He hit his knee sharply on the deck. Rowlf grabbed a pole, but fell onto his side. There were screams.

    “What’s happening?” the fat woman cried in a wobbly voice. “What’s happening?”

    The lights flashed on and off. Smoke crept into the carriage.


    Kermit flipped on the television, and the first thing he saw were reports of multiple explosions in London. He thought first of his friends the Hoobs, filming there. Then he remembered…Rowlf, Miss Piggy…

    His breath caught. He felt behind him for the couch. The door opened, and Robin stood there. “Uncle Kermit?” Robin’s eyes turned to the TV. “Oh no…”


    Miss Piggy was in London for the Olymics celebration. She’d been hoping to visit France, and celebrate in beloved Pari’ with shopping, and champagne. Still, London wasn’t too bad. She looked at her watch, 10:13. Well, they’d be just time for a cappuccino, and a change before the photo shoot, she had picked out some especially Athletic and Olympic looking clothes for the occasion.

    She would never know if she heard, felt, or simply knew the explosions first. One minute, nothing. The next a bus passed her, and then, fire and explosion ripping the bus apart like a can of sardines. The wave knocked her back. She tripped on her heels. Her head hit the pavement.

    She felt no pain at first, just a stickiness. Then all went black.

    To be continued as reports come in...
    LipsGF4Life likes this.
  2. theprawncracker

    theprawncracker Well-Known Member

    :cry: Oh no, I hope Piggy's okay. And Rowlf, oh my gosh. :cry:
  3. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    Another touching story Bo? Good start. For once, I'm more concerned about Piggy's wellfare.

    On another note, it's a shame that some people feel such jealousy and rage that they can't let others enjoy one single moment of happiness. Haven't seen any reports yet, probably will once I dettach from the computer and flip on the ol' tube.
  4. redBoobergurl

    redBoobergurl Well-Known Member

    Good story Beau, tough topic. As soon as I heard the news this morning I immediately thought of all my UK friends here on MC.
  5. Vibs

    Vibs Well-Known Member

    Nice start Beau. And sad. And scary. I sure hope everyone from UK inhere is okay!
  6. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    Here is part two, where I try to capture the feelings of onlookers, and relitives of the injored. I feel inadiquate to begin such a task, but hope it will help those who cannot begin to feel what they are feeling, to share the hurt, and feel the pain. Pray for these people. So many people.


    On Sesame Street, Big Bird joined the small group who had gathered around the TV set at Looper’s store, no, Hooper’s store. Bert was there, and Ernie. Maria was trying to explain what was going on in a way they could understand. “Something bad,” she said, “Has happened. In England. Today. People are injured, hurt, and…others are…sad. I want us to think of them, and pray for them.”

    The bell chimed as the door was thrown open. It was Bob. “Maria, I just heard from Kermit. Rowlf the Dog and Miss Piggy were in London. He hasn’t heard from either of them, except that Rowlf was meant to be on a train.”

    “What?” Maria asked. “What train?”

    “One of the trains…” Bob said.

    “Oh no.”

    Big Bird looked up. He saw fear on their faces. He’d seen it before, on September the eleventh. Then, they had feared for the world, now they feared for friends.


    It was hot. Beads of sweat crawled down Rowlf’s skin, like grimy ants. His eyes stung from smoke. The fat woman was alternately crying and demanding help. “Help uuus!” she shouted. He couldn’t think straight, his mind was a whirling mass. Soot.

    Rowlf moved on hands and knees. He pulled himself up. Stepped forward. And the doors. And they were right there in front of him. Rowlf moved his hand from the support bars to the door handle. He pulled, once twice. Stuck. He slammed his hand against the door, rested his head against the plexiglass. Then he began to cough, and needed fresh air, but there was none. He was stuck. They were stuck. He turned, couldn’t see. He couldn’t see them. His ears felt fogged from the blast. Rowlf, his name was Rowlf. He hated confined spaces. It was so hot. Calm down. Breathe.

    And there was glass everywhere. There had been an explosion. That much Rowlf knew. The carriage in front seemed to be blown away, the whole ceiling caved in.

    Rowlf started to pray.


    “Miss? Miss…are you alright? Miss?”

    A fuzzy figure bent over her. Her eyes flickered open. “Where?” Miss Piggy mouthed. “Where?”

    “Shh,” the figure said. His voice was gentle, soft. “I’m going to try to help you.”

    “What…happened?” Miss Piggy asked. She tired to sit up, but her head hurt.

    The man was Sam Johnson. He worked in the next street. He’d frozen dead still in the moment of the explosion, then come running. People would need his help. He thought there was a war. No, that was silly. But he had never wanted to join the army, he would never kill. He wouldn’t have to.

    Miss Piggy looked terrible. Her clothes were torn, she lay on the street while people ran around her carrying injured, and others stood in shock and pain and just stared at the mangled skeleton that was a city bus. Miss Piggy’s chocolate died hair was a sticky mass. A siren echoed off the buildings. Emergency services. At last.

    “It’ll be alright,” Sam said. He willed his voice to be reassuring. “It will be alright, Miss.”


    “Shock waves have hit the nation,” declared the newsflash. “We have reports coming in of at least four blasts in London. The latest a Double Decker bus.”

    Kermit couldn’t stay still, so he paced. He’d alerted his friends, they would be thinking, praying, for Rowlf and Miss Piggy now. He’d done all he could.

    Dr Teeth stood in the doorway. His face etched with worry. Kermit…” he said, trying to offer support. But he could say no more. He could offer no condolences, for he could not guarantee everything would be ok.

    Outside, Beauregard swept the same patch on the porch over and over and over. He was too worried to notice. His swept in fierce, fast strokes. Miss Piggy could be dead. Fozzie came up to him. He rested a hand on Beau’s shoulder. Sweep. Sweep. Fozzie took hold of the broom gently, and took it away. Beauregard choked on a sobbing breath, and started to cry.


    “My baby!” the fat woman screamed.

    Rowlf moved towards the sound. The soot was clearing, but he could hardly see. What he did see was carnage. He didn’t, couldn’t, think about it now. He concentrated on helping thee woman. “Madam?” Rowlf said, and held back a coughing fit. “Madam, can I help?”

    She was sat on the floor of the train, clutching the pet-carrier close to her chest. “My baby is gone.”

    The rabbit, Rowlf remembered. He gripped her hand. “I’ll find it,” he promised. They had to get out of there.

    There was a sound of smashing glass. People kicking out the windows to escape. Rowlf would help them. He would help the woman. He had to help. He realised his leg was hurting. He felt it withhis fingers, but it was not bleeding, not broken. He would live. But what of the others? He couldn’t help them all. He felt so hopeless.

    He smelt fire.
    LipsGF4Life likes this.
  7. JaniceFerSure

    JaniceFerSure Well-Known Member

    Love your writing Beau,another masterpiece.

    *:sympathy: for all of those involved in your story*
  8. Vibs

    Vibs Well-Known Member

    I don't know what to say, again your writing has amazed me. Not only the way you write the way you connect real life situations with the muppets and... wow. It's really touching Beau, especially because it is not "only" a story. I'll be praying for ... I'll be praying.
  9. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    Yeah man... Rully turrible what happened. But... What made you decide on Rowlf and Piggy as the ones in London affected by the bombings?
  10. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    <stunned silence>

    ...I knew I was missing something by sleeping in, but... this...


    ...I mean....

    <stunned silence>
  11. redBoobergurl

    redBoobergurl Well-Known Member

    Speechless....you are a gifted writer Beau and that's all I can say.
  12. MrsPepper

    MrsPepper Well-Known Member

    I think I am going to cry. This whole thing is all just horrible, and I actually cannot continue to read this... of course it's well done though, Beau, maybe just a little too much..
  13. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    Mrs Pepper, that is quite alright. I am afraid, yes, I did write it very strong because I wanted to totally capture the moment, pull us there into that carrage, putting our hands around those who lost loved ones. I can understand that you did not want to finish reading the story, neither did I, but I knew it was something I had to do.

    Count, I cannot explain why I chose Rowlf and Mis Piggy. Except that I was reading an eyewitness acount when the first line of this book came into my head so strong that I knew I could not shake it, and that I had to place it in writing and share with others a close perspective on today's events.
  14. MrsPepper

    MrsPepper Well-Known Member

    Oh don't get me wrong, I read the whole thing. It just made me very uncomfortable, is all. Urgh, I don't understand these things..
    LipsGF4Life likes this.
  15. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    Forgive me if the images portrayed are too powerfull, but for me, I have to write this, to show the hearts of those close by. These are the effects of terrorism on lives. It has to stop, it can't go on.


    A radio crackled with static. Someone was trying to communicate. The driver. But there were no words.

    People were up now, many injured, some bruised. Rowlf touched a hand to his forehead. He felt like he were going to burst. The train rocked, some lost their footing and fell in the aisle.

    Two teenagers in rad jackets kicked the doors with trademark trainers. They kicked together, too many times. There were coughs, stifled tears.

    Rowlf held the woman’s fleashy arm, and helped her to her feet. She clung to him, and to her pet-carrier as though it were her last possession on earth.

    An orange jacket came into view beyond the smeary, soot-covered glass in the division to the next carriage. Help had arrived. No. No, it wasn’t a jacket, or help, or even a person. It was flames. The fat woman panicked and fled to the back of the carriage, banging her fists on the windows.

    Then someone got the doors open. Maybe the two rad jackets. Rowlf looked around for someone he could help. There it was, under a seat, looking at once frightened, content, and wild. A splash of white in the blackness. Rowlf knelt, he scooped the rabbit into his arms.

    “Not going without my baby!” The fat woman cried.

    Rowlf came to her, pressed the silky fur of the rabbit’s skin against her hands. She took it. He led her out of the buss into the dark tunnel. He hoped all were out.

    They began the long walk.


    “It’s a terrible thing to have happened, Sprocket,” Doc said. He sat, leant forward, eyes only on the television before him, his hand resting on the head of his dog. The wind howled around the lighthouse.

    Gobo Fraggle stood behind, his mouth partly open, and his gaze fixed on the events unfolding in London. This wasn’t real. It was another of Doc’s movies. It was real. He shook his head slowly. Why? Why would any human do this? For political power…that was no balance. There was no balance. No thing on earth or in heaven that could weigh out against a human life. It wasn’t real. No one would do this.


    “You are going to have to leave,” The paramedic said again. “All members of the public must be evacuated.”

    “No, no, no,” Sam said. “I won’t go.” His hand was wrapped around Miss Piggy’s. Her purple gloves were black stained from smoke and soot.

    “Please,” the paramedic said again. “I’m going to ask you once more. Only medical offices may stay here. Leave.”

    “No, she’s hurt and…”

    The yellow-coated paramedic moved away. He stopped beside a shocked looking policeman, whispered something. The policeman approached Sam. “You have to go, we’ll take care of her, come on, that’s a good lad. That’s right. Come on. Let’s go.”

    The policeman gripped his shoulders, propelled him away. He felt Miss Piggy’s hand slipping from his own. Saw a man lifting her to a stretcher. Sam was pushed into the crowd, and he lost her in the sea of grime streaked faces.
    LipsGF4Life likes this.
  16. Skeeter Muppet

    Skeeter Muppet Well-Known Member

    Another speechless reader here, Beau. Whatever you've been trying to capture here in your story, you've done it very well. I love the glimpses into the reactions of other sections of the Muppet family, like Sesame Street and the Fraggles.

    I have to admit, you've inspired me. I'm trying to work out an idea on the events of this morning from the points of view of the Ghost of Faffner Hall gang. Hopefully I can do as good a job at it as you are at this.

  17. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    That would be wonderfull, Skeeter. Feel free to post (if you wish) your addition to the story in this thread.

    And now...light at the end of the tunnel...


    Miss Piggy woke up in a strange bed, in a white washed room surrounded by the casualties of war, for a war it was. A war on peace. She touched the thin blankets that covered her. Her head was cold, she reached up, then stopped. They had cut her hair, mended her injuries, but cut her hair. How dare they, how…

    Gingerly, she sat. She bunched the sheets in her lap, folding the cloth over in her hands. She was inside a hospital. Nameless people in white medical gowns sourounded around her. The same sterile beds stretched in lines. She felt dizzy.

    Miss Piggy lifted her feet out of bed. Her shoes were gone, no, one shoe was gone. Where was her handbag? She closed her eyes. The world tilted.


    There was daylight…somewhere. Somewhere there was daylight. Rowlf stepped over the slates in the line. The fat woman beside him didn’t stop talking, not for one second. Nervous energy was running high. “What if a train comes? What if we don’t get out?” Maybe! What if… When? How! Go back. Carry on…Rest. Stop, please, stop.

    A man beside him held his mobile phone open for light. He’d tried ringing out, but signal was bad, and the lines were full.

    “Ahead,” a voice shouted from the front.

    There was light. Light at the end of the tunnel.


    Kermit closed his eyes. There was nothing he could do. Was there? He opened them.

    Robin watched him anxiously from a nearby seat-arm. “Uncle Kermit,” he said. “What are you going to do?”

    “There’s nothing…” Kermit said. “Nothing we can. But wait.”

    Scooter knocked once, and entered. “You don’t want to hear this, Boss, but you have to.”

    “What is it, Scooter?”

    Scooter looked at Robin, then turned back to Kermit. “Another five confirmed dead. No names. I’m sorry...I…”

    Kermit sunk into the cushions of the seat, and laid his head against the back. Robin held his hand. “Uncle Kermit?” Robin said.

    “What is it, Robin?”

    “They won’t win, will they?”

    Kermit stared at the ceiling, then his gaze lowered and rested on his young nephew. “They won’t win.”
    LipsGF4Life likes this.
  18. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    “They won’t win, will they?”

    <crumples up on desk>

    “They won’t win, will they?” “They won’t win, will they?” “They won’t win, will they?”

    Gosh, Beau... That line keeps circling around in my head... “They won’t win, will they?” Oh, gosh........

    I must say, though, this one line that made me smile just a little bit... They had cut her hair, mended her injuries, but cut her hair. How dare they, how…

    I liked that.

    But by gosh... “They won’t win, will they?”

    miss kermie likes this.
  19. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    They won't.
  20. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    <rocks back and forth, clutching teddy bear>

    No. They won't.

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