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Somebody's Getting Married?

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by Ruahnna, Aug 26, 2006.

  1. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    You know... Wonder if there'll be another update soon. And I'm interested to see where this story goes. The only other big TMTM segments that are missing I can think of are the scenes at Pete's Luncheonette and the postcard segments.
    Rully looking forward to whatever Ru're planning though.
  2. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    Checking in to see if any updates have been posted yet.
  3. Ruahnna

    Ruahnna Well-Known Member

    Chapter 16: Scheduling and Conflicts

    Fozzie’s scene had gone just fine, despite his earlier qualms about same. Beth had turned in a very sweet and believable performance, and Fozzie had actually felt comfortable enough to joke a little, trying the scene a number of ways. Although one version—with Fozzie shooting up out of unproductive slumber in alarm—was very funny, they had all concluded that the best version was the one in which a surprised and very nervous Fozzie merely subsided with a whispered protest. Cecile had been a great help on the set, soothing the nerves of her nervous daughter and said daughter’s costar with a calm, motherly presence. The scene was in the can and they were all waving Cecile and Edgar out the door with regret by the time the clock said it was time to quit for the day. Before the young man left, Kermit commandeered Scooter for a few moments to go over the schedule.
    The week of filming had been full, but there had been several unanticipated changes. He and Piggy had come back a day late from their honeymoon, which only added to the muddle. Luckily, because the number of locations used and the difficulty of predicting weather and the whim of the permit-givers, they had still produced an appropriate amount of film every day, but the schedule had gone all kerflumpy. Some of this would be resolved by filming on Saturday, but he hoped to involve as few people as possible.
    “We still have to go back and finish at the park,” said Kermit, frowning a little. “But we don’t need all the original permits because it will mostly be the close-up stuff, right?”
    “Right,” said Scooter.
    “So—can we do that tomorrow?”
    “We can do that tomorrow—you and Piggy and Juliana. Oh, but we do need to check on the buggy ride.” Scooter shuffled some papers. “Uh-oh,” he said, frowning. “Let me make a call.”
    Scooter got up to find a phone but Kermit stayed him with a hand, getting up himself and taking the opportunity to stretch his cramped muscles by walking to Piggy’s dressing room. Might as well have a destination if I’m going to walk, he thought, a little defensively, but when he knocked there was no answer. He wandered back to his office to find Scooter sitting with a disgruntled expression on his face.
    “What?” he asked.
    “Well, apparently the horse-drawn buggy drivers union doesn’t allow them to make any film appearances on the third weekend of any month ending in E.”
    Kermit looked at him for a moment. “Say what?” he asked, his face scrunched up to indicate his consternation and disbelief.
    “I didn’t believe it either,” said Scooter, “so I called the Union office. Apparently, Section E of the code, sub-section 14—“
    “Okay, okay,” said Kermit hastily, anxious to avoid a recital of the entire horse-drawn buggy driver’s code. “Um, where does that leave us—beside buggy-less?” This reminded Kermit that the thin little cellophane-wrapped sandwich he had managed to bolt earlier in the day had not been enough to sustain him, and he tried to push thoughts of food out of his head.
    “Oh—we can use the buggy,” said Scooter. “Apparently sub-section 14 goes on to say—“
    “Huh?” Scooter looked up from his notes, and one look at Kermit’s face told him to cut to the chase. “Um—buggy in, driver out. If we can find another driver, we’re good to go tomorrow.”
    Kermit looked thoughtful. “Let me call Jim,” he said. “He might know someone. What about the train station—are we still on with the train station?”
    “Oh—oh, yeah! We’re good to go. Tomorrow morning at 7:00 the train will pull out as many times as we want,” Scooter was happy to report. He looked closer at his note. “Um, provided it isn’t more than three,” he muttered, but Kermit was not put off. He did not think they would need more than one shot to capture Piggy’s elegant departure by train while he watched from the station platform.
    “So, Piggy and I in the morning at the train station, and me and Piggy and Juliana in the park tomorrow at noon. Will that bring us up to speed?”
    “Technically,” said Scooter slowly. “But we still need to reschedule the big opening number. We need everyone for that, pretty much. When do you want to do it?”
    Kermit looked at the schedule. Scooter was right—everyone was involved in that scene either backstage or with the audience full of extras. Although they had originally planned to film these scenes at different times, it made sense to combine them.
    “When are the extras scheduled to come?”
    “Right now, Tuesday.”
    Kermit nodded his head. “Tuesday it will be,” he said decisively.
    Scooter looked up at him and smiled. “Coming down the home stretch,” he said, smiling. “Then we’re on to post-production.”
    Kermit nodded. Time was hurtling past. Just at that moment, Piggy appeared in his office doorway, and time seemed to stop as he gazed at her.
    He looks tired and hungry and…wonderful, Piggy thought. She intended to take him home and focus her attention on just him, determined to sooth all signs of tiredness and hunger away. That tenderness was reflected in her gaze, and in her voice.
    “Almost done, Kermie?”
    The two men looked at each other. Scooter nodded, satisfied.
    “Yeah,” said Kermit. “I’m done for today. Let’s go home.”
    He could not even remember whose turn it was to host, whose domicile he was heading toward, but it hardly mattered. He took Piggy’s hand and followed her out the door.

    The once-elusive train ticket had been procured. As the early morning fog swirled around the station, Piggy had waved and dropped her little square of lilac linen and lace as the train pulled away. So convincing was Piggy’s look of sad farewell that Kermit found his eyes stinging a bit as the scene progressed. By the time they got to the end of the scene, there was a great lump in his throat that made him glad he had no lines to say. What would it be like to have lost his courage at the last? To have never proposed? To see Piggy riding away from him, not knowing when he would see her again? When the scene had been run the requisite number of times, Piggy appeared on the train steps. Kermit walked past all the crew hands ready and willing to hand her down and held his arms open to her. Surprised, Piggy stopped on the steps, not sure what he wanted. With a laugh, Kermit leaned forward, put his arms firmly around her waist and lifted her off the train, swinging her around and down on the platform next to him. Love might give you wings, but it could give you strength in other ways too.
    “That was just right,” said Kermit, and Piggy stared at him in surprise as he stretched to kiss her on the cheek.
    “What was that for?” Piggy asked, aware of many watching eyes. Kermit caught the look and looked around, sheepish but defiant.
    “Um, that was for a great performance,” he said a little too loudly. Now baffled, Piggy just stared at him, but the new security she had found as his lawfully wedded wife had made her more sensitive, perhaps, to the little changes of face that marked his moods. She looked at him and her blue eyes softened in response.
    “Thank you, um, Kermit,” she said formally, giving the evil eye to any gawkers. All eyes were hastily averted, and Piggy leaned in and kissed him sweetly on his jaw. “I’m here, Mon Capitan,” she murmured. “And I’m not going anywhere without you.” She stepped away and caught his hand, and Kermit held hers tightly in response. They walked back toward the cameras.
    “That was…it was a little disconcerting seeing you ride away like that,” he said at last, opting for honesty.
    “There were times that it seemed like a good idea,” she responded, but her eyes said that she, too, was glad this had come to a different conclusion.
    “Yeah,” said Kermit. “About that…”
    But Piggy merely tugged him after her toward the camera crew. She wanted to be sure that her pert little hat had not been blocking her face. Upon assurance that it had not, she had sighed, happy to be done, and had gone in search of a lime-ade, leaving Kermit to deal with the details until it was time to go to the park.

    The horse-and-buggy driver had arrived, and Scooter looked up at the tall, lanky form with obvious pleasure as he swung down from the carriage.
    “Mr. Henson!” he cried. “Kermit said he was going to call you, but, but I didn’t know you were going to drive the buggy.”
    Jim smiled his big smile, and a glint of mischief shone in his eyes. “Well, I don’t suppose they need a chaperone any more,” he said with a laugh, “but somebody ought to keep an eye on those two.”
    Scooter looked around carefully to make sure neither of them were in ear-shot, then nodded emphatically.
    “Yeah. It’s been a little weird,” he confessed. “Since they got married, Piggy treats Kermit like he’s the director.”
    Only someone who had worked with Piggy and Kermit in a professional capacity would understand why this was so very startling, and Jim just looked at Scooter in surprise.
    “Really?” he asked. “You mean—“
    “Follows his directions. Takes suggestions without having a fit.”
    Jim stared at him, flummoxed. “I suppose you’ve checked for signs of alien mind control,” he said dryly, and Scooter laughed so loud he clapped his hand over his mouth.
    “Well, I haven’t,” he admitted. “But I’m sure Gonzo has.” He smiled up at Jim. Jim was tall, and Scooter, not so very. “You look good. How’s the new movie coming?”
    Jim’s eyes lit up at once, but he shrugged at the same time. “It’s, um, challenging,” he said at last. “I’ve never tried puppetry on this scale before.”
    “Speaking of,” said Scooter. “I saw the film you ran on the nursery scene—we all did.”
    “Kermit said you liked it.”
    Scooter blushed. “Yeah—all except my belly-button showing,” he muttered, but Jim just laughed and leaned down to muss Scooter’s hair. Scooter caught himself just before he complained, certain that Jim was just trying to get a rise out of him. A venerate practical joker, Jim could find all your buttons and push them with consummate skill, so Scooter merely tolerated the hair-ruffle and considered himself the moral victor. He had little time to savor it, as Piggy and Kermit arrived almost at that instant, and then the filming took precedent over catching up.
    Juliana’s scenes were dispensed with first so she could get on her way. Between takes, Piggy was extremely solicitous to the young actress. Once the camera’s rolled, however, Piggy made a very convincing display of extreme displeasure and jealousy. Juliana was very glad she did not have any designs on a particular amphibian. She did note with some amusement that, between takes, Kermit seemed very satisfied with Piggy’s display of proprietary interest, scripted or no. At one point, she looked up to find Mr. Henson watching them with a huge smile on his face, but when his eyes met hers, he merely shook his head. She finished her scenes, took her leave of her fellow actors and went on her way.
    Finally, with nothing left to do but their fight scene and the buggy ride, Jim ambled over to talk to two of his favorite thespians. Jim’s new movie was discussed and congratulations to the happy couple were immediately forthcoming, but the talk soon became practical. With dawning wonder, Jim watched as Kermit sketched out how he thought the scene ought to play. Piggy looked at him attentively throughout, and the erstwhile buggy-driver did his best to keep his jaw from gaping open. When he turned at last to mount his buggy, he looked mildly flummoxed.

    “Oh, Piggy—one more thing,” Kermit said. “You know that thing you do?”
    Piggy gave him a startled look, but Kermit was clueless until a telling blush began to creep up her cheeks. Then he blushed and stammered himself until they both fell into giggling for a moment. After a moment, Kermit tried to reassume his questionable air of authority (or perhaps his air of questionable authority). “Piggy,” he said sternly. “That’s not—I mean, the thing you do where you do something and then pretend that you didn’t.”
    Piggy stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “That’s it! That’s perfect!”
    “What’s perfect?” Piggy asked, mystified but not about to let a compliment go unacknowledged. She preened a little, brushing her hair back from her face.
    “Oh, you’re wonderful,” said Kermit fondly, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. “When the buggy ride is over, just do that.”
    “Do what?” Piggy growled, but Kermit was moving away. She looked at him in exasperation. Honestly! Sometimes that frog was just impossible to understand.

    When the scene was over, and the camera crews and technicians had all been sent packing, Scooter came over to take his leave. Jim had offered to squire the happy couple around the park until the buggy had to be returned. This offer was welcome to them both, and for more than one reason.
    Returning to the park had reminded Piggy of Kermit’s sanguine comments about her degree of domesticity and she had found it very, very easy to argue with him in front of the cameras. Kermit had always held his own against Piggy’s tirades, however, so he bore up estimably under this scripted one, but some of the genuine emotion must have bled through on his part as well, and he felt truly baffled and indignant when the scene was over. He tried to shake it off and his manners were very gentlemanly as he helped Piggy up into the buggy seat. The scene played very nicely, in part because of their initial awkwardness with each other after the heat of the moment had passed. But by the time the last lines had been delivered, Kermit was aware of Piggy’s softening toward him and all his warm and contented feeling seeped back to the surface.
    Jim turned around and grinned at them.
    “Ready?” he asked.
    Kermit settled back against the seat, one arm tight around Piggy’s waist and the other holding her hand. “Ready, driver,” he said in an exaggeratedly urbane voice. “Drive on.” Piggy giggled and leaned her head on his.
    There is not much that a romantic horse-and-buggy ride through a beautiful park won’t cure, and there was not much that needed curing anyway, but the end of the ride found them happily nestled in the slowly swaying buggy. Piggy stirred sleepily when the ride was over, smiling at her husband.
    “Ready to go home, Mrs. The Frog?” he asked. Piggy nodded solemnly. For the second time that day, Kermit swung her down from a conveyance right into his arms. It was a feeling she hoped to get used to.
  4. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    Simply loved it all. Though there was something lost from that first sentence, not sure what it is the "same" Fozzie had problems with. And I apologize as I got Beth's parents' names mixed up with other characters from a different Hensonian production. But I thoroughly enjoyed this new chapter... The train departure scene and the buggy ride with Jim. Very much look forward to whatever's left in the home stretch what with the postcards and filming with the extras... Post more when ready Ru!
  5. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    Stopping by to see if you're OK and we can get more story. Post soon!
  6. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    *Sing: 1 for the money...

    Hope you haven't forgotten this one Cath... Want to know how it'll all end with the postcards from the Muppets and Kermit and Piggy enjoying their newlywedded status on set with the rest of the cast.
    More story, please!
  7. Ruahnna

    Ruahnna Well-Known Member

    Chapter 17: Domestic Bliss

    It was their first afternoon at home with domesticity. In Paris, they had had long, lazy afternoons together, but that was different. They were on holiday then, away from the norm. Here there was, perhaps, too much of the norm, or not enough, depending on how you looked at it. Kermit’s apartment proved too small for separate pursuits, and while the time they spent in a single pursuit was both joyful and productive, the confines of the small space began to make themselves felt. Piggy had tried to get comfortable with a stack of prospective scripts on the divan, but it proved a vain pursuit. Kermit’s fairly utilitarian couch proved unequal to the task, and Piggy found she could not snuggle back into its corner the way she could on her own overstuffed loveseat. This isn’t even as comfortable as that shabby old couch in Kermit’s office, Piggy though irritably, but when Kermit looked her way—as though sensing her distress—she dredged up a smile and pasted it on her face for his benefit.
    “How’s it coming?” Kermit asked.
    Piggy looked at him blankly.
    “The scripts? Any good ones?”
    “Oh. Oh! Well, I haven’t actually, um…opened one,” she admitted sheepishly. “How about you? Budget coming together?”
    Kermit nodded automatically, then laughed and began to shake his head.
    “No!” he groaned. “I didn’t get here with everything I needed from the office.”
    “Oh. What do you need, Sweetheart?”
    “Scooter,” Kermit said wryly, and they both laughed.
    “I think Scooter went cycling today,” said Piggy. “So I imagine he’s irretrievable, but if you’d like to go into your office at the studio…?” Then I could go to my hotel, Piggy thought with longing.
    Kermit brightened visibly. “Would—would that be okay?” He could not keep a note of wistfulness out of his voice.
    Piggy was wise in the ways of women. She flashed him a look that managed to be both imperious and doting. She stood up, then walked over to where he perched on one of the uncomfortable straight-backed chairs and brushed a fond kiss across his smooth pate. “I suppose I could manage without you for the afternoon,” she said, and Kermit found himself even more bound to her—and summarily released. He stood up and put his arms around her, claiming a kiss as one entitled, then began to gather his papers.
    “Thanks, Honey,” he said. “I’ll feel better when I get this budget ironed out.”
    Piggy just smiled. She’d feel better on her own couch.

    Kermit was surprised when Piggy joined him on the taxi ride to the studio, but less mystified when she had the driver drop her off near the shopping district. He got out like a gentleman and opened the car door for her, accepting her demure kiss and watching with satisfaction as she sashayed into the nearest boutique. He climbed back into the taxi and set his face toward work.
    It felt later than it actually was when Kermit picked up the phone on his desk and dialed home. Surprised when no-one answered, Kermit frowned at the phone before replacing it in its cradle. He had only just replaced it when he snatched it up again and dialed Piggy’s hotel.
    She answered on the third ring, sounding sleepy and tousled. Kermit longed suddenly to be where she was.
    “Hi Honey,” he said. “I’m all done here. Want to meet me for some supper?”
    There was a pause on the other end of the phone, then Piggy said, “That would be lovely, Kermit. Where shall we go?”
    Kermit named a place that elicited a squeal of pleasure from Piggy and smiled at her enthusiasm. “Name a time,” he said. Piggy did, and hung up to begin the transformation into the diva that the world expected to see.

    They had not been out in public in their own stomping ground since they’d gotten married, and their arrival in the restaurant created no small stir of interest. Kermit had called as soon as he hung up from talking to Piggy, expecting to beg and plead for a reservation, but they had been ecstatic at the thought of having the celebrated newlyweds, Miss Piggy and Mr. the Frog, gracing their fine dining establishment.
    Fame was not new to either of them, but this degree of interest in their couplehood was a little disconcerting. The movie had not yet wrapped, but news of their marriage had spread like wildfire, so the public had questions that could not yet be answered by simply pointing to the movie and saying, “Sortof like that.” Her dress—what had her dress been like? Who had done the service? How long had they been engaged? If either of them had envisioned a quiet supper of soup and savories and chilled champagne, it was laid quickly to rest by the steady stream of admirers that stopped by the table. At one point, Kermit had moved his chair over next to Piggy, determined not to spend the entire evening with strangers between them. Piggy had smiled and held his hand under the table, all the while keeping up a steady chatter about the movie, the dress, the ring, the surprise of it all. After the first fifteen minutes, Kermit thought she should have just recorded it and played it over and over while people passed by, but Piggy was indefatigable when it came to her viewing public. He was annoyed at the interruption of their time, and very, very proud of her all at the same time. The thought made him smile. Nothing was ever simple with them.

    By the time they had escaped the restaurant and slipped into a taxi, they were grateful for the silence and quiet of the cab’s interior.
    Kermit started to speak but found that just sitting quietly and holding her hand was all it took to satisfy him. Piggy, however, seemed unquiet, strung with nervous energy. Kermit squeezed her hand, hoping she’d look at him, and was rewarded by a quick, nervous smile.
    “What?” he said, puzzled by her restlessness. “Too many people, tonight?”
    “Yes!” Piggy said fervently, then blushed as Kermit laughed out loud. He caught her hands and pulled her over for a quick kiss.
    “Too many people for me, too,” he said, releasing her. His expression became solemn again. “But that’s not it. Something’s bothering you.”
    “No…not at all, Kermie,” Piggy said evasively.
    Piggy could lie, but it was not her strong suit. Though Kermit was often baffled by her behavior and blind to her little white lies, the real whoppers still stood out like gangbusters. This was one of them.
    “Tell me.”
    Piggy plucked at her gloves.
    “What will people think, Kermie?” she asked. “When they see the movie?”
    “That it’s good, I hope,” said Kermit, not sure what she was getting at.
    “Will they…will they think the wedding is just a movie stunt?” Piggy asked. “The way we filmed it…?”
    They had not been generous with details, although some of the questions had been entirely too personal for either of them to do more than blush and stammer, but Kermit had seen the looks of surprise and even disbelief on some of the faces. He had acknowledged that as his just due, and had accepted some good-natured ribbing from fans who claimed never to have been fooled by his air of detachment. His cover had been blown for sure, he had thought, and now the entire world would know how he really felt about his gorgeous co-star. But Piggy’s question brought this into an entirely different focus. It had never occurred to him that people would doubt the truth behind the fantasy, and that realization hit him with a solid wallop.
    Kermit let out a slow breath. He…he had not really thought about it that way before. The movie had been one thing—a thing he had wanted, and had wanted to be a certain way. But getting Piggy—that had been another thing entirely, though he had wanted that, too, to be a certain way. He had taken for granted that what he truly wanted was obvious—to the world, as well as to Piggy.
    “Well, we are married,” he said at last. “And I’ve got the girl and the ring and the license to prove it. Isn’t that enough?”
    Piggy hesitated, then her brow cleared determinedly. “Yes, of course,” she said firmly, but Kermit had seen the hesitation.
    She did not answer.
    “But, Honey—“
    “Oh, just kiss me, won’t you?” Piggy cried. “I’m—I’m so tired of talking about everything!”
    Kermit’s delight obliterated his arguments. He obeyed his wife’s entreaty with enthusiasm and forgot—for quite some time—to question Piggy about her hesitation. He forgot about the world and the world’s opinion, lost in a world of two.
    Kermit forgot, but Piggy did not.
  8. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    Well... That was unexpected. Couple of small typos, but I'm ignoring those as my new mod squad colleagues have shown me to do so.

    This chapter had a natural progression towards it... Starts out at Kermit's home, then we move to the office and hotel where both really want to be, and finally the crowded restaurant. Intriguing to see how you proceed from the shared personal/public space to the individual personal/public spaces for both, and finally to the public space where they allow everyone else to view them amongst the crowds of everyday people.
    But the ending where Kermit's made to think about those who might believe the wedding was pure fantasy... Nice way to go for the double whammy of us fans trying to figure out Muppet chronology and what was real and what was just movie magic fiction.

    Rully liked it Cath, please post more here and for your other main masterpieces of Muppet literature.
  9. Ruahnna

    Ruahnna Well-Known Member

    A Place of Our Own

    Chapter 18: A Place of Our Own

    “Okay, people,” said Kermit. “Tomorrow is the last day of filming, so we have to do everything right today to make that happen.” He looked down at the sea of upturned faces from his stand on top of his director’s chair.
    “You guys have been troupers,” he said. “Especially during my recent, um, incarceration in Paris,” Kermit finished dryly. There were laughs all around. Well, not quite all. There was one co-star, at least, who was not amused. At all. “If you have a script problem, I’m going to be available for the next fifteen minutes. After that, we shoot as written. If you have a costume problem, check in with Hilda or one of her assistants, but don’t bring it up later. Do it now.”
    Scooter slipped up and handed him a couple of papers. “The following people need to see Scooter after this meeting: Fozzie, Sweetums, Lew, Link, Piggy, Bobo….” There were several names on the list, but Kermit got through them and then looked around.
    “Anything else?” he asked. No one spoke, but there was a restless shuffling of feet, the beginning swell of a murmur.
    “Okay,” he said. “Stage call in fifteen. Everybody move.”

    Despite being first in line with Scooter with a little creative elbowing through the crowd, Piggy found herself needing to talk to Kermit when the fifteen minutes was all but gone. She caught his eye easily, but catching any of the rest of him proved to be difficult indeed. He signed papers, answered questions, resolved conflicts and looked her way about every 25 seconds with his ‘just a sec, honey’ look, but all for naught. People were taking their places on the soundstage and Piggy had still not had her private audience to talk about the script. And she wanted to talk about the script.
    At last, Kermit turned to her and Piggy sighed with relief and opened her mouth to speak, but instead of getting her question out, she found herself embraced and kissed impulsively by her new husband. Fairy-tale PR aside, frogs are good kissers, and Kermit was indeed a frog. Piggy didn’t mind the distraction, exactly—in point of fact, she contributed to it herself for a moment—but Piggy had a problem with her script and she intended to have her say. She tried again when they separated at last, but Kermit was already moving away.
    “Kermit!” said Piggy. Kermit stopped, turned and grinned at her. “Aw—not now, Honey. We’ve got to get on the set.”
    “Don’t ‘not now, honey’ me!” Piggy said. She stamped one artfully shod foot on the floor. “I am trying to talk to the director.”
    Kermit pulled up short. “Oh,” he said, and then, “Sorry, Piggy. What can I help you with?” He was all business now, and listened attentively while she talked about her scene with Juliana in the diner. Kermit nodded as he listened, and commented intelligently, but Piggy could tell he had his mind’s eye on his watch. She cut her comments short in something very like exasperation.
    Kermit was puzzled by her snippiness, but Piggy felt like she was getting the worst of both worlds today. It was lovely that Kermit wanted her, but she needed him to be her director, too, and that role took precedence for her when they were on the set. And while he was usually a very accommodating director—very accommodating, indeed—who would listen seriously to the things she wanted, she now felt somewhat guilty about lobbying for changes. She couldn’t decide whether it was because she felt like she was getting special treatment, or because she felt that she wasn’t. Yesterday, while they had been at home, she had felt like she was only getting part of his attention there (well-focused though it might be!) while the rest of him was actually here at the set, in spirit if not in the flesh. This whole predicament made her head hurt, and that made her more grumpy and irritable than she had been before. Piggy tried not to stomp over to the diner set and did some neck rolls to exorcize the furrows from her forehead.
    “What’s the matter, Miss Piggy?” asked Juliana, immediately seeing the tension in Piggy’s face. “You look…you don’t quite look like yourself,” the young woman amended hastily.
    Perhaps because her scenes had called for her to be so very snippy with the character of Jenny, Piggy had gone out of her way to be friendly and charming to the actress when the cameras weren’t rolling. Today, that put a bee in her bonnet, and she wondered crossly why Kermit had written her as so jealous and disagreeable.
    “Oh, nothing,” she said, and tried to dispel the dark cloud that seemed to have settled over her mood.
    Jenny said nothing, but her sweet face was so frankly disbelieving that Piggy had to laugh. Jenny smiled back, not quite sure of the joke.
    “No really,” Piggy insisted. “I’m just—I’m just having end of movie jitters, I think.” She did not want to confess that married life was anything less that perfect all day all the time. Later, this would seem very funny to her--very funny indeed, but today, Piggy was stuck in the moment. She let out a couple of deep breaths and pasted on a brilliant smile. “Are you excited about the movie wrapping?” she asked, hoping to start a conversation that would distract her from her own musings.
    Juliana smiled. “Well, it will be strange, won’t it, to not be filming? I’ll guess I’ll move on to the next project—probably television work. How about you?”
    Piggy was momentarily stumped. “Um, we’ll go back to the states, I guess. And Kermit will start post-production.” She had not thought very far ahead, but then, in all fairness, she had not even known she was getting married two weeks ago! “I guess we’ll find a place of our own.” She felt suddenly overwhelmed with the enormity of the changes her life had undergone.
    “Oh!” cried Juliana, reaching over impulsively and hugging Piggy. “A place of your own! That sounds so romantic!”
    Piggy’s eyes grew wide. A place of their own. She tried to imagine it—tried to envision having a place that had her stuff and his, a place with a couch that was just right for both of them. She had a sudden picture of towels—one pink, one green—nestled up against each other on a towel rack. One said “His.” The other said, “Hers.” Her eyes went all dreamy. Suddenly, all of her pique seemed silly. What did she have to be annoyed about? She was Piggy The Frog, happily wedded wife of Kermit The Frog, and that was certainly worth a little disruption of routine.
    Piggy looked around, suddenly wanting to see him, wanting to be reassured that this was not some dream, some fantasy segment that she had wandered into by mistake. As chance would have it, she was looking for him at the split second that he turned to check on her. Their eyes met, and Piggy felt that old, familiar pull on her heart. His look was tentative, his expression sweet. Piggy thought she might just die of happiness.
    “Yes,” she murmured distractedly. “It sounds very romantic.”
    While she watched, Kermit fumbled his pen, dropping it not just once but twice before reclaimed it sheepishly, shaking his head at his folly. Piggy felt her diva-ness come back with a forcible thump, and she preened a little. It was nice to know that she could still discombobulate him, still knock him just a little off center. She turned to Juliana briskly.
    “And when we’ve found a place and settled in, I’ll guess I’ll have to pick one of those scripts Marty keeps sending.”
    “Anything good?” asked Juliana politely.
    Once more, Piggy’s eyes strayed to the slim green figure giving last-minute instructions to the cast. “Everything,” Piggy said simply. “Everything’s good.”
  10. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    Oh... So here's where you've gotten off to, you slick miss green and pink. Glad to see that one of your other longstanding stories has gotten a nice little bump. Always interesting to read about the behind-the-scenes everyday life that makes the magic happen. Funny how little things can set us off at times and funny how we look back on them wondering what were we worried about?
    Very much like Piggy's moment of professional/personal discomfort only to be replaced by dreamy illusion.

    Hope for more to be posted soon, both here and somewhere else that's pending your perfected-pointed pen.
  11. Ruahnna

    Ruahnna Well-Known Member

    Chapter 19: Pique of the Day

    Chapter 19: Pique of the Day

    Piggy’s pique had not survived on the set, but when they returned to her apartment she found it returning. She had rushed home and changed into something far more suited to an evening at home than what she had worn at work all day, but came out of the bedroom to find Kermit talking animatedly on the phone. She smiled, bemused, and went into the kitchette to see what might be possible for dinner.
    In the end, Piggy’s imagination ran out and she decided they could order pasta. Kermit was still on the phone, so she looked through the stack of delivery menus until she found one that seemed appropriate. She turned to Kermit, who was now deep in conversation—and tying up her phone. Piggy hesitated. She didn’t want to interrupt, but she wanted to order the food. The day had been long, and she was tired and hungry. Oh! She could use the pay phone in the hall!
    She was halfway across the living room area when she realized that she would have to get dressed again to go out into the hall. She waited, but Kermit now had the phone cradled on his shoulder and was making notes on a piece of hotel stationary, alternately nodding and shaking his head.
    “No!” Kermit said firmly. “No ducks! I was very specific abou—what?”
    Someone on the other end obviously made a point. Kermit shrugged.
    “Well, penguins would be okay, but—“
    More tinny noise from the phone. Piggy looked at the menu, then at her lingerie. Her hostess gown wasn’t flimsy, but it would never pass for street wear. Still, how likely was it that someone was going to be out in her end of the hall in the space of time it would take her to run down and use the phone? She looked at her husband again. He seemed oblivious to her situation, laughing at something that had been said.
    “Yeah, right!” said Kermit. “Well, you tell them I—what? By Wednesday? No—I don’t think—“
    He had turned around and spied her, and he smiled that sweet lop-sided smile that always made Piggy feel like melting. His eyes took in her outfit, and the way she fit into it with approval. Piggy was then certain that she could not go out in the hall dressed like this.
    Smiling, she held up the menu and tapped it lightly with one satin-gloved hand. Kermit nodded and held up a finger in the universal wait-a-minute gesture. Piggy waited, but not patiently. After another three minutes of waiting, Piggy sailed past him into the kitchen. Kermit watched her majestic exit from the living room with appreciation, but he also got the point. The interminable telephone conversation was terminated, and he joined Piggy in the kitchen, where they perused the menu and ordered supper.
    The wait for the food to arrive was spend much like it had been the first evening in Kermit’s apartment—snuggled up in the kitchen and making the most of the first real moment of togetherness they’d had since they arrived on the set early, early that morning. Piggy’s irk dissipated, and she sighed and put her arms around Kermit’s shoulders.
    “Kermie,” she asked. “Where do you want to live?”
    “No further than six feet away from you,” he murmured, giving her a self-satisfied smooch.
    Piggy giggled, but was not deterred. “I’m serious,” she said. “When we go back home, what kind of—“
    The phone rang. Piggy answered the kitchen phone with a cheery, “This is Moi,” but after a moment or two she made a face and put her hand down over the mouthpiece. “It’s Gonzo,” she mouthed. “Something about needing ducks for—“
    “I’m on it,” Kermit said, retreating back into the living room and snatching up the phone there. “Hey, Gonzo—it’s me, Kermit. No—no, that was me. He already talked to me and I said no. Look, I thought I was very clear that we were not going to—huh? No—no, I don’t think…well, if we didn’t light them, I suppose we could….”
    Kermit wandered away, tethered by the phone cord, and Piggy sighed and put her pucker away. So much for an evening at home. She thought about redoing her nails while waiting for the food, but couldn’t get very enthusiastic about it. She wandered into the bedroom and brushed her hair until it shone and fell in little soft wisps around her shoulders. That made her feel better, and she put a surreptitious dab of French perfume in a couple of likely places. The perfume made her think of Paris, which made her think of Kermit, and she went back into the living room again, hoping to find him waiting with open arms. He was still on the phone.
    Piggy opened her mouth to object, but someone knocked on the door.
    “Italian Delights Delivery,” called a voice. Piggy got her purse and went for the door. Some of her irritation was salved by the awestruck and flabbergasted reaction of the just-post-adolescent delivery boy when she answered the door. He’d obviously had no idea about the recipients of his delivery. He took the money without looking at it, tried to stammer something. Benevolently, Piggy sighed, then reached around to the little end table just inside the door for the convenient stack of autographed pictures she kept handy. She scrawled a feminine script across the bottom, “Love Miss Piggy” and added a defiant “Kissy, kissy, kissy” because Kermit was still on the phone before thrusting it into the young man’s hands. She still had to pry the carryout bag from his numb fingers.
    “Ub uhn wha?” the young man babbled. Piggy took his arm and gently steered him back out into the hall, smiling at his befuddlement. When she came back into the room, Kermit was off the phone and smiling at her.
    “You still got it,” he teased, and Piggy put the bag of comestibles on the floor and struck a sultry pose.
    “Well,” she said. “Why don’t you come over here and show me what to do with it?”
    Kermit hastened to obey.
    They were happily lip-locked when the phone rang again. Kermit half-turned toward the sound, but Piggy cupped his face in one soft hand with a no-nonsense grip and looked into his bulbous eyes.
    “Forget the phone!” Piggy growled, and set her lips on heavy stun.
    For a period of several minutes there was little sound in the room but the hollow ringing of the phone, which went unheeded and unanswered.
    “What phone?” murmured Kermit after a pleasant interval. It was doubtful he could have given his name if he’d answer the devise.
    Piggy was mollified, and snuggled up against him in a very satisfactory way.
    “You hungry?” she asked.
    Kermit nodded mutely, gazing into her eyes with a dreamy expression on his face. Piggy reached for the bag, but Kermit’s arms tightened around her.
    “Maybe we could eat…later,” he suggested. Piggy thought they could.
  12. Ruahnna

    Ruahnna Well-Known Member

    I'm coming down the home stretch guys! One or two more posts and the story of their wedding and its aftermath will be done--at least, my story of their wedding and aftermath will be done. For those of you who have hung in there, with me--bless you! I hope you've enjoyed reading it even half as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Kissy kissy!
  13. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    You know something... Very much liked this one. Maybe it's because of all the detail you put into it. Maybe it's because of the behind-the-scenes scenes. Maybe it's because it deals with TMTM, the more personable of the movies. But there's something here that I've liked especially withthe chapters after the movie and the wedding and all that stuff.

    Please, post whatever's left as soon as you can.
  14. Ruahnna

    Ruahnna Well-Known Member

    Chapter 20: He Said, She Said

    Chapter 20: He Said, She Said
    It had been a lovely, leisurely evening—eventually, but the franticness of the next day more than made up for it. Piggy felt breathless long after they’d arrived on the set, and she’s felt like she was running through a succession of revolving doors as they tried to get everything ready for the final shoot.
    Everyone was here today! Practically everyone who had been in the movie was here for the final scenes. Even Edgar and Cecile had come back and brought Beth, which was terrific. And it was wonderful to be the center of so many congratulations and well-wishes and hugs and kisses and, oh, everything, but the attention was making Piggy flustered. It was sometimes a delicate balance to get into character when the character that you played was merely a fictionalized version of yourself. There were many times when Piggy had taken spectacular exception to the way she had been characterized, but she was a consummate professional after all, and she could do it for the director six different ways—before he finally did it her way!
    For reasons that Piggy had not been clear about, they had postponed the filming of the first part of “Manhattan Melodies” until this final day. Never mind—she was ready, but when her thoughts strayed back to the filming of the second half of the show within the show, all she could remember was the look on Kermit’s face when he had dropped to one knee and proposed. Dear, sweet, wonderful Kermit! Kermit whom she loved! And who was currently driving her crazy with last-minute adjustments. He had been playing with the script a little, trying to punch up their dialogue in the backstage scene. The original argument had seemed like tame stuff to Piggy, and while Kermit might have countered that she had hit him for less, she would have something to say about holding her tongue as well.
    Thinking about holding her tongue made Piggy remember a few other things about dear, sweet, wonderful Kermit that he might have preferred that she did not. She remembered how he had teased her the day of the wedding—the whole stunt with the ring had been showmanship of the highest quality. Surprising her with the arrival of her mother—although that had not quite gone according to plan! Arguing with her about filming the scene again when she had been so…and then he had been so…
    Piggy found her emotions roller-coastering out of control, and fled to her dressing room. This last scene was critical, for all of the story lines had resolved in that one backstage scene—all except the ultimate story line, which she was now living. Piggy felt the prick of happy, exasperated tears in her eyes and dabbed frantically at her makeup. How her life had changed in the past two weeks! How amazing that the one thing she thought would make her completely happy HAD! And she was happy. Completely happy. Except when he was driving her crazy. Like he was right now.
    She had come to her dressing room to get away from everything, but he had been by twice in the past five minutes, still tweaking the script. Finally, Piggy had said, as sweetly as she was able, that he could say whatever it was he wanted to say out there and she was going to do her scene AS WRITTEN. Kermit had smiled at her vehemence, sneaked under her guard for a quick smooch and run for his life.
    Good answer, thought Piggy.
    Finally, they were all there—all gathered and ready for the scene. Kermit was looking at her with mischief in his eyes, but she remained composed. Whatever he threw at her today, she planned to throw right back.
    “You ready?" he asked. His eyes were suddenly serious. Piggy nodded.
    “Ready," she insisted.
    The film began to roll.
    “You are Kermit the Frog, and you love me," Piggy said earnestly. “You want to marry me. You want to have children with me.” The thought made Piggy blush, but her husband wasn’t blushing.
    “With you?" Kermit said, his face a perfect replica of comic disbelief. “In love with a pig? Hmm—wait till I tell the guys in marketing!" He turned to Fozzie and Gonzo, laughing. “Maybe you expect me to go hog wild? Maybe—perhaps you could bring home the bacon!u201D There was a warning light blinking furiously in Kermit’s brain, but he ignored it with supreme smugness and continued his ad-libbed rant. “Ah—the sounds of love—suey! Oink oink!"
    “Cancel the show!" Piggy cried,
    Kermit braced himself, knowing what was coming, but the force of her swat did more than send him flying across the room. It took the breath right out of his lungs and left him gasping. With a little squeal of concern, Piggy ran to his side.
    “Ooh, Kermie—did I, did I hurt you?"
    Kermit couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs to both breathe and talk. He nodded weakly, but at the little “oh” of distress from Piggy he tried to put a brave face on it.
    “I’m fine," he wheezed. “I just—I just got the wind knocked out of me.” He smiled a little shakily. “You pack a wallop, Mrs. The Frog.”
    Piggy looked flustered. “But—but the script says—“
    Kermit put a hand on her arm, getting his wind and his composure back in spurts.
    “It’s okay, Honey. I’m fine. You just—it just surprised me a little. I’ll be ready for it next time.”
    “Next time?" Piggy asked, her expression baffled.
    “Yeah," Kermit said, still rubbing his middle. “You, um, messed up the shot when you ran in front of the camera.”
    Piggy’s mouth dropped open. She looked to Scooter for confirmation. “Really?" she asked, blue eyes wide.
    Scooter nodded morosely. “We’ll have to do it again. Places everybody.”
    Piggy put a solicitous hand under Kermit’s arm as they walked back toward their marks, but when the cameras began to roll, the look of concern in her eye was replaced with realistic wrath. They ran the scripted lines and then Piggy said “Hi yah!" and sent him hurtling through space. He hit the chair perfectly, but this time Piggy’s curls obscured the outer edge of the shot. The third time, it was her impressive profile from neck to knees that blocked the shot.
    In all the years that he had worked with Piggy, he had never known her to upstage anyone without trying. He had a feeling that he had inadvertently made it onto her short list and was paying the price for some real or imagined hurt.
    “Um, Honey," said Kermit. “Think we could get this one in the can soon? I don’t think I can stand a whole lot more of this.”
    Piggy fidgeted, giving a fair imitation of distress, but there was something not quite right about the set of her jaw…oh! OH! Thunderstruck, Kermit saw Piggy’s quick dart of assessment—the same look she would give him to see if he’d been pleased with a scene. He felt his face scrunch up in annoyance.
    “A moment please, Scooter," Kermit said, then took Piggy firmly by the arm and led her away from the crowd.
    “Piggy," Kermit muttered, when they were out of earshot. “I know what you’re doing. Stop it.”
    Piggy gave him a level look that he could read only too well, then her blue eyes grew wide and she batted her eyelashes at him. Sheesh! And the Oscar goes to-- “Why, Kermie—I don’t know what you could be referring to.”
    “Piggy, stop it!" He rubbed his middle carefully. “That last one really hurt.”
    Good," Piggy muttered, but just low enough that he couldn’t call her on it.
    “Look—what’s this about?" He thought he knew, but didn’t want to suggest anything she hadn’t thought of yet. “Come on," he said, trying to keep his voice teasing. “What did I ever do to you?"
    Piggy’s back straightened just a little and those beautiful blue eyes narrowed.
    “Why don’t we start with what you’ve done to me lately!" “But—but Piggy—“
    But Piggy was not about to be deterred from her course. In fact, she was just getting started. “Let’s see—you tricked me into tricking you into a marriage that everyone but Moi knew about!"
    “Oh, that," Kermit said uneasily. “Well, yes, but it was—“
    “Yes—that! You—you played with my feelings! You knew how much I cared, but you teased me with the thought that you didn’t really love me, too.”
    “Oh, Piggy—you know I always—“
    “Do you have any idea how it felt—knowing that I might lose you forever?"
    Kermit was shocked to see actual tears in her eyes, and turned his body hastily to protect her from any curious onlookers.
    “Sweetheart," he said gently. “Honey, look, I didn’t—“
    “And then you—you said you did love me and you did want me to marry you, and it was…it was…wonderful!" she said accusingly. Her tone made it clear she thought him a terrible amphibian.
    So much for understanding women, Kermit thought.

    “What’s going on?"
    “Sure," said Scooter, grinning. “You didn’t think paradise was going to last forever.”
    “Oh no!" moaned Fozzie. “And Kermit seemed so happy.”
    Scooter hastened to reassure the distraught comedian. “It’s okay," he said. “This is a kiss-and-make-up fight.”
    Rowlf looked at him with new respect. “How can you tell?"
    Scooter elaborated. “Well, if she was really mad, Kermit wouldn’t be able to put his arms around her.”
    “But he isn’t," Fozzie objected.
    At just that moment, Kermit reached to embrace her.
    “Ha," said Scooter. “Told ya.”

    Kermit had no idea what to do next, but he was pretty certain putting his arms around her would be okay. “Um, I think it’s wonderful, too," he ventured, trying to embrace her, but his efforts were in vain. As if aware of her vulnerability when he was holding her, Piggy wrenched away.

    Fozzie and Rowlf looked at Scooter triumphantly. “Ha yourelf," said Rowlf. “Yeah," said Fozzie. “What he said.”
    Scooter was unruffled. He shrugged. “Second time’s the charm," he said.
    “Bet you," offered Rowlf. Scooter held his hand up and shook Rowlf’s paw without looking. Fozzie hesitated, then said, “I’m in too.” He added his own furry paw to the mix.

    “Of course you think everything’s wonderful!" Piggy snapped. “All you had to do was say ‘I do’ and now the pig does everything you say!"
    “Now Kermit looks mad," said Fozzie.
    “As a hatter," said Floyd Pepper, joining the little throng of spectators. “I mean, he married her highness.”
    “I don’t think he’s crazy," said Scooter loyally. “I think they’re just—“
    “What’s going on?" said Gonzo. “Where’d Kermit go?"
    “Lover’s quarrel," said Rowlf.
    “Oh," said Gonzo, turning to watch. “Anybody taping it?"
    “What? Geez—make an artistic suggestion and everybody’s a critic.”
    “Pipe down," said Floyd, “I can’t hear what they’re saying.”
    “I can read lips," said Rizzo. “Somebody give me a boost up—“
    “Um, guys," said Scooter uncomfortably. “I don’t really think we should be—“

    On the far side of the stage, the argument raged unabated.
    “You heard me!" Piggy was saying. “Now that we’re married you think you can just snap your fingers and everything will be—“
    “Piggy, that’s ridiculous. Now you sound like Gonzo!"
    “And what is that supposed to mean?" Piggy cried angrily.
    “It means I didn’t—“
    “And then you bragged to everyone about how you have me wrapped around your little webbed finger—“
    “But, Piggy, I didn’t mean, um, that you—oh, sheesh.“
    With a sudden, ringing clarity, Kermit knew. He knew what he had done, and wondered what the piper would demand.
    “What’s the matter?" Piggy flung. “I thought you had everything under control.”
    Yep. The light went on in Kermit’s head at the same moment as the warning bell. He swallowed and cleared his throat.
    “So you, um, you heard that, did you?.”
    “Yes," Piggy admitted, and her eyes mirrored her hurt.
    Kermit felt like a louse. It was not usually in his nature to tell tales out of school, and he felt his cheeks grow warm.
    “Look, Piggy, that was—“
    “And I wasn’t eavesdropping, either!" she said, still bristling.
    “No, no—of course not," Kermit said. He stepped forward and tried to put his arms around her again. She let him, but just barely.

    There was a murmur on the far side of the soundstage. Everybody seemed to be watching.
    “Ah ha!" said Scooter. “Pay up.”
    Several people ponied up the dough.

    Kermit held Piggy and remembered the way she had clung to him in the taxi the other night, the way she had greeted him every evening with a kiss. This was nothing like that, and it was all his fault.
    “Look—I’m, I’m sorry. That was—what I said was uncalled for. I just—I just can’t believe everything that’s happened these past two weeks. It’s been such a roller coaster, such a high. I guess—I guess I got a little cocky.”
    “Well, it hasn’t exactly been a picnic for me," Piggy pouted. “Everybody’s watching me now, wondering if I’m going to be different.” She shot him an injured look. “Now that we’re married, they’re always watching me. Everybody wants to see if I’ll do what you say on the set.”
    Kermit knew he was already on thin ice, but he couldn’t help himself. He let out a short bark of laughter, making Piggy look at him indignantly. She tried to wrest herself away from his embrace, but Kermit hung on grimly. The strength in those arms holding onto her surprised her. The thought that he didn’t want to let her go made her expression soften. He had never held on before, but this time he did. Maybe this time wasn’t like all those other times.
    “Piggy, Honey," Kermit said, smiling at her. “Why should here be any different from home?"
    Piggy swallowed her sharp retort. In spite of herself, her lips began to quirk up into a smile. Kermit felt her relax in his embrace, and her arms slipped around his neck as she gazed into his eyes.
    “Look—I was your director long before I became your husband. Just because we got hitched doesn’t mean I expect you to roll over and do everything I say.”
    “But you told Rowlf—“
    “Yes, I know I did. And I was out of line. I’m sorry.”
    Those blue eyes were huge. Geez, he wanted to kiss her.
    “Yeah, really. Piggy, you should know by now that I respect you as an actress, and I expect you to do what you’ve always done—follow your best instincts. If I don’t like it, as the director, I’ll say so. And if you don’t like it, as an actress, you say so, too. Got it?"
    Piggy nodded, then looked sheepish. “Did I—did I really hurt you?"
    Kermit nodded, rubbing his tender middle. “Yeah, actually.”
    For just a moment, Piggy’s eyes were fierce. “Good!" she growled, but she leaned forward and kissed him on the jaw, letting her soft lips linger on his skin. Kermit knew it was only a small down payment on a more convincing request for amnesty later, and he let her slide.
    Piggy disengaged from his arms. “We should go," she said gently, starting back for the soundstage. “Everyone is waiting for us.”
    “Let ‘em wait," Kermit said. He caught Piggy’s arm, pulled her suddenly into his arms and kissed her while he dipped her down to the floor. Behind them came a loud cacophony of whoops and catcalls, but Kermit ignored all of them. When he set Piggy back on her shiny high heels, she was gasping for breath.
    “Is that a satisfactory expression of my sincere apology?"
    Piggy’s face was flushed. “Um, yes," she mumbled, heart still racing.
    “Think we can do this scene without sending me to the clinic?" Kermit asked pointedly.
    Piggy took an unsteady breath, then nodded and smiled. “Yes, dear," she said silkily. “Whatever you say.”

    When they returned to the set, Scooter was pocketing a handful of five-dollar bills. Kermit sighed, pretty certain he could guess the source of Scooter’s revenue.
  15. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    Oh... You were talking about the scene where Kermit had amnesia and was among the throng of friends before staging the final version of Manhattan Melodies. Thought you were refering to the opening segment where Kermit's whistling the tune of "Together Again strolling down the halls of the college building en route to the theater.

    Rully liked the gang getting together to hear the conversation between the wedded couple, typical Muppet betting going on. Even moreso cause Scooter pocketed some extra cash for himself.

    Please Cath, post more soon.
  16. Ruahnna

    Ruahnna Well-Known Member

    Chapter 21: Amnesty

    Kermit had been correct in his assumption that Piggy would make amends for her earlier hostility, and the evening found them comfortably wedged together on Kermit’s creaky couch. Piggy had solved the discomfort factor by piling every available cushion in the apartment onto the spartan upholstery. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do, and Piggy lay back into the corner of the couch with Kermit reclining into her welcoming embrace. She leaned forward once every so often and pressed a kiss against the back of his neck, eager to offer comfort. Feeling due a little tenderness—and very sore around the middle—Kermit accepted these offerings of affection as his just due. They had ordered Indian food, and Kermit had eaten the spicy morsels off her fingers with great relish as she’d played hostess. Kermit caught one of her bare hands and kissed the palm, thinking the satin of her gloves could never compare to the satin of her own soft skin.
    “Piggy?” he said softly.
    “Um hum?” she answered, swirling a finger over his smooth scalp.
    “You okay with what happened today?” He had been adamant that he had gotten his just desserts, and refused to entertain even the idea of an apology. Which was just as well.
    Kermit felt her hesitate. At first he thought she might not have understood the question and was on the verge of repeating it when she made a small sound and let out a breath she’d obviously been holding.
    Kermit turned over, wanting to see her expression so he could correctly gauge her response, and alter his own in kind. “Tell me,” he said gently.
    Piggy smiled, but more out of nervousness than pleasure. “This—this is hard,” she said finally. Kermit waited for her to elaborate, but when she did not, he spoke again.
    “Since when has anything ever been easy with us?” he teased. His voice was light, but his bulbous eyes were dark with emotion.
    “That’s just it!” Piggy burst out. “Everything’s so—so complicated now!”
    “No,” Kermit insisted. “Everything’s easier now.”
    That caught Piggy up short, and she reached out to touch his face, biting her lip a little in consternation or to keep her from bursting out with something else. “Oh, Kermie….”
    “I mean, sure, this is going to take some getting used to, because now what happens there spills over into here.”
    Piggy nodded solemnly.
    “And what happens here sometimes spills over into there,” Kermit finished. His eyes grew mischievous. “Too bad we filmed the kiss-and-make-up scene already.” Piggy gave him a look and thought of reminding him that they had not, in fact, kissed when they made up on screen, but she stifled the urge when he subsided, slipping his arms around her. “But some things will never change,” he continued earnestly. “You and me—that’s going to go on forever.”
    “Yes, Kermie…” said Piggy. “But, sweetie, I—“
    “And I don’t want Piggy the actress to change, either. You have an opinion, I expect you to express it. Got it?”
    “Yes, Kermie.”
    “And stop saying ‘Yes Kermie’ to me. I—I feel like I’m in Invasion of the Body Snatchers, you know? Or the Stepford Pigs. Just let your yes be yes and your no be no and we’ll fight about all the stuff in between, okay?”
    Piggy just looked at him, literally unable to respond. It was impossible to agree with him—he had just forbidden it. And impossible to argue with him—for he was right. And she did not want to argue with him—not any more. Having lost the option of speech, Piggy did the next best thing. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, saying everything that truly mattered all at once.
    “Good,” said Kermit when he had recovered his voice. “Then we’re square.”
    “Actually,” said Piggy dryly, “we’re horizontal.” Kermit gave her a look and she started to giggle.
    “C’mere, you,” he said in fair imitation of Piggy’s sultry growl. And, surprising them both not at all, Piggy did just what he said.
    This time.
  17. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    So um... Is that the ending you were promising? Or is there something left to tell to this tale? If so, please post it when you get the chance, as we love all your fanfic writings.
  18. Leyla

    Leyla Well-Known Member

    Ahhhhhhh. Ru Ru Ru Roooey Ru. I love it, I love the whole story, and it deserves a longer better review than I am currently capable of (I very nearly wrote "Kermitly" capable of, so that should tell you something). Anyway! LOOOVE it, it's brilliant, and I'll tell you just WHY I think so tomorrow.
  19. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    OK... Since I didn't find a "The End" or a statement saying as much by the author of this fine fictional account... Is there more to come? If so, please post!
  20. Ruahnna

    Ruahnna Well-Known Member

    Actually, I'm done with this one, but this story continues shortly with "Getting Swamped." Left to my own devises, I don't see the story every entirely being over!

    Thanks for reading, all you who have (and perhaps will in the future). I enjoyed, um, setting the record straight on what really happened at the wedding! (hahaha)

    So, I'll see you NEXT time on "GETTING SWAMPED!"

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