To Beaust or Not to Beaust - A Beauregard Story

[Hubert]

So, I'm writing a story about Beauregard, and it does explore a good bit of his back story and history. I hope you all bear with me, here, I'm a bit nervous about this story and how it is going to turn out and how it is going to be received. But I feel compelled to still write it, so I hope you enjoy it. Constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged. Until I do some more work on finishing chapter 1, how about a prologue-type thing, shall we?

To Beaust or Not to Beaust

Prologue

But alas, I am faced with a daunting task, a task far more daunting than I could ever fathom. But some indescribable force still brings be back to you, the person that I long to lay my eyes on more than any one person that has ever set foot on this earth. Yet again and again, I am drawn to the unavoidable fact that regardless of how much I try to procrastinate, I find it most imperative that I must return to see you, for if I fail to do so, I fear that we may all be in far greater danger than any of us could even begin to imagine. Yet all I have is your name, and the odds are against me. The thought arouses that you may have changed, may have gone missing, or may even be dead.

A certain someone put down the old, rugged sheets of paper stained with ink and extravagant handwriting. A fresh piece of paper years ago, now a wrinkled mess of tree remains, laid in his hands. He read this literature, this great and glorified writing, forgotten in time. He read it, analyzed it, and rewrote it.

But once again, I have an incredible job to do, a job more incredible than I could ever imagine. But some outside force continues to make me return to you, the person I need to see more than anyone in the world. But I continue to come back to the thought that no matter how much I try to put this off, I must do it, for if do not, I believe that we all may be in a larger danger than we could ever imagine. Yet all I have is your name, and the odds are against me. I continue to think the terrible thought that you may have changed, may have gone missing, or may even be dead.

He turned off his lamp and sat for a moment, staring out the window at the open sky. “Be close, Beau, be close.”

 

[Hubert]

Chapter One

Someone stepped into his dented, forest green station wagon and pushed down the pedal. Very gradually, it began to pick up speed as it rolled its way down the old, dirt road. Where to even look? He could be anywhere. He had to start somewhere, so he pulled his way into the cement driveway of a brick house.

As he approached the house, he realized how obscure this whole situation was becoming. He was on a wild goose chase, a search for a needle in a haystack. But instead of that, it was a race to see who could hunt the goose first. He pressed the black button, surrounded by a border of gold. A man came to the door.

“Hello?”

“Hello sir, this may seem like an odd request, but I’m looking for someone named Beauregard. I don’t know much about him, other than that’s his name and he might look a little like me.”

The man slowly shook his head. “I don’t think I know of him. If you try the police station, they might be able to locate him for you.”

He nodded and made his way back into his station wagon and headed off to the police station. He knew this was going to be hard. Impossible, even.

But alas, I am faced with a daunting task, a task far more daunting than I could ever fathom.

He didn’t even notice the transferal between the dirt road and the cement road until his front wheel bounced over a small nick, lying in the road. He put on his brakes in front of the police station and fed the machine with a small, round, coin. He was only comforted by the tap of his boots on the worn away sidewalk. He pulled the door handle to see a man sitting at a desk, hunched over.

“E-excuse me?”

The man raised his head. “Yes?”

“This might sound a bit peculiar to you, but I’m looking for someone named Beauregard. I don’t know much of anything about him, other than that he might look a little like me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but, I have no idea. I can’t recall ever seeing anyone named Beauregard around here.”

“I see. Well, OK then.” He turned around and pushed the door open, and stepped down onto the worn away path. Another man, this one in uniform, followed him.

“Excuse me, sir,” the police officer began.

“Yes?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but overhearing that you were looking for someone named Beauregard.”

“Yes.”

“And this might sound weird, but when I was on vacation last year, there was a man who worked at a gas station that had that name.”

“You have directions?”

“I’ll get you some if you’re interested.”

“Sure.”

The police officer went back into the building, and came back with some maps and directions within a reasonable time period.

“Thank you, officer.”

“My pleasure.” The two both turned away from each other and headed back to their respective locations. Was this the break he needed? Would he find him here?

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As he drove out every step the directions gave off, he was faced with a fork in the road. Turn right, it said. He turned the steering wheel right, but the green vehicle turned left. He turned into a hotel parking lot and curved the car around the decorated flower bed that housed the large hotel sign. He did a U turn and was back at the fork. He turned his steering wheel right. The car went left. He went back into the hotel parking lot, curved around, did a U turn, and returned to the fork in the road. He turned his steering wheel left this time. The car went left. He turned back into the hotel parking lot, curved around, did a U turn, and returned to the fork in the road.

But some indescribable force still brings be back to you, the person that I long to lay my eyes on more than any one person that has ever set foot on this earth.

Maybe he should just go and spend the night at the hotel, he thought. He turned his steering wheel left, despite the fact that he would have ended up left regardless of which way he tried to go. He did every proper procedure necessary to secure a room for the night, and pressed the “up” elevator button. The elevator door opened and he joined three others inside.

Yet again and again, I am drawn to the unavoidable fact that regardless of how much I try to procrastinate, I find it most imperative that I must return to see you, for if I fail to do so, I fear that we may all be in far greater danger than any of us could even begin to imagine.

He was suddenly surrounded by three identical faces, all of the person that he dreaded to see more than anyone in the world. What was he doing here? He had something more important to do.

When the elevator reached floor #9, he stayed on as the three faces scattered down the hallway. He pushed the “M” button, rode back down, and immediately requested a refund. He ran to his car in the pitch black darkness and turned on his headlights. There was barely anything in sight, the whole town so run-down that cob webs showered around every crevice, even the slightest one.

He spotted an old diner, with a sign reading “OPEN.” He parked his car in between two faded lines. His boots tapped as he jumped down from the driver’s seat, hoping.

Yet all I have is your name, and the odds are against me. The thought arouses that you may have changed, may have gone missing, or may even be dead.

 

[meepmuppaphones]

Nice start, Hubert/Chicken Lover/Person Who I Think Looks Like Danny Kaye!
Can't wait for more! Personally, I think Beauregard is one of those Muppets that are constantly overlooked. Pleasant surprise here.

Maybe you should include Gregory the Chicken.

 

[Hubert]

Thanks Meep. I'm really glad you're enjoying it. It will get a bit better and less confusing starting next chapter.

I'm also on same bandwagon about Beau, he is my all time favorite Muppet, yet he is never really explored or used much. I feel like I'm really going to have a lot of fun with this one.

 

[meepmuppaphones]

Yes. That is soooo true.

 

[charlietheowl]

Pretty interesting start here! I'm eager to see who exactly is after Beauregard and why.

 

[Hubert]

Thanks charlietheowl! For some reason I see it as an honor to have you reading and commenting on my story. Especially because you are the one that got the wheels turning in my head for this, when you had mentioned Beau in your Sam story. Then I started thinking about Beau and a possible story...

 

[charlietheowl]

Aw thanks!

 

[Hubert]

Also, just something of note regarding future updates, I'm hoping to dish out more of this as often as possible, hopefully even every few days. I think there may be some more ready for tomorrow.

 

[Hubert]

Chapter Two

He walked into a small, dimly lit diner. Only a janitor stood there, mopping the floors. He wore a white shirt underneath a jacket that blended the colors of gray and blue. He was an older man, as evidenced by his gray hair and balding.

“Excuse me, sir?”

The janitor looked up. “What?”

“Er, this might be a strange request, but-”

“Eh, nothin’ new.” He took note that the janitor was not the friendliest fellow in the world.

“I’ve been looking for someone named Beauregard. I think he resembles me a bit?”

“Oh, that guy. Muppet Theater, five miles east.”

“Wait, seriously? You know him?”

“Nah, not really. He took my job.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry. He’s a janitor?”

“Apparently.”

“Well sir, thank you for your help.” He was baffled. Did this guy really know where Beau was? He shrugged. What did he have to lose? He didn’t have any leads, anyway.

He looked at his watch. Should he go to the “Muppet Theater?” He shook his head. Who was he kidding? Why would someone be in a theater at this hour? He returned to the forest green contraption and drove back up to the hotel, and a crabby manager and some elevator music later, he was done for the night.

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The next morning, a forest green station wagon pulled into the Muppet Theater parking lot. The doorman was too nearsighted to notice it. The host was too busy preparing for the upcoming show to notice it. The go-fer was too busy making coffee to notice it. The comedian was too busy practicing jokes to notice it. The diva pig was too busy being a diva pig to notice it.

Needless to say, no one noticed the station wagon pull into the parking lot.

The creak of the door awakened the doorman. He raised his head and squinted into space. “Who are you?”

Before an answer could even be relayed, the doorman’s head plopped back onto the desk.

“Excuse me?” Kermit was startled as the driver tapped his shoulder.

“Yes?” Kermit examined the tapper. He didn’t look like Pasquale the Mad Pineapple Corer. Yellow polo shirt, jeans, glasses, what was he exactly? He almost resembled Beau a little.

“Uh, I’m looking for someone named Beauregard?” His claim appeared to be right as of yet. But who was this guy?

“Yeah, he’s around here somewhere. What’s your name, again?”

“Oh, I’m Roger. I’m Beau’s brother.”

“Oh, well hello, Roger. It’s always nice to have family around. Beau didn’t even tell me you were coming.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t really tell him either. See, I lost touch with him for a while.” Roger fiddled with his glasses. He was hiding something and Kermit knew it, but Kermit wasn’t about to force it out of him.

“Anyway, I’ll let Beau know that you’re here.” Kermit ran off to search for Fozzie, so that Fozzie could run off to search for Scooter, so that Scooter could run off to search for Beau.

“Fozzie, can you get word to Beau that his brother Roger is here to see him?”

“Sure, Kermit. Hey Scooter, could you tell Beau that his word is Roger and he has a brother?”

“Sure thing, Fozzie. Hey Beau, your word is brother. 10-4. Roger!”

“Ooh, is that morse code?”

“Uh, no, Beau.”

Kermit gulped, not knowing the events unfolding around the theater. “It should only be a matter of time, Roger.”

Kermit was right. Beau darted toward Kermit, and knocked him up onto his desk.

“Kermit, Kermit! Guess what?”

“What Beau?” Kermit winced in pain.

“My word is brother!”

“What?” A puzzled look appeared on the frog’s face.

“But my problem is, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the word. Scooter told it to me.”

Kermit scrunched his face and muttered under his breath. “Fozzie!”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Kermit hopped off of his wooden desk and landed on his flippers.”Beau, there’s someone who would like to meet you.” He motioned Roger to step forward.

“Who?”

“Roger, your brother.” Roger stepped forward to join the two.

“I have a brother?”

“Yes, Beau. He came to visit you.”

“Right.” Beau scratched his head, still confused.

“Hi Beau, I don’t even know if you remember me.”

“What?” Now it was Kermit’s turn to be confused.

“I don’t,” Beau admitted to his long, lost brother, if that term was interchangeable between the two.

“I can understand why. And that ties in to why I’m here. Let’s sit down, shall we?” Roger looked around for a place to sit, yet no chairs seemed to be present.

“Let’s go over to the Canteen,” Kermit suggested. “We can even get a bite to eat.”

The three followed a few other Muppets heading to the Canteen. They sat down at a table.

“This may sound extremely weird, but the reason I am here is for your safety, but more prominently, my safety. You see, way back when, a long time ago, you were born. Now, everyone in our family had this prestige of being smart. But when you were born, on the other hand, you weren’t the brightest cookie in the bunch, if you know what I mean. Our father was extremely disappointed in you. Then one day, he got the letter that he was being drafted for the military. So he told us that if you didn’t turn around, we might have to think about an orphanage.”

“But you made me turn around, right?”

“Well, we tried, but it didn’t work extremely well.”

“Why? I can do it right now.” Beau turned his body around.

Kermit slapped himself. “Not like that. He means that you had to become smarter.”

“Oh, OK. Continue.”

“Obviously, we didn’t want you in an orphanage. We wanted you to remain with our family. But when it was evident you wouldn’t live up to your father’s standards, we had to do something. And the next best thing we could come up with was to send you somewhere else so that another family could raise you. So we did. We sent you to a nice family, and they raised you. We told our father that you became so intelligent that a prestigious, faraway school invited you to attend there. But obviously, we couldn’t just “lose touch” with you or your father would come looking. So we had to fake letters and put them in the mail, and the lies just kept piling up. And that’s why I’m here. Your father has made the decision to come look for you. He doesn’t know where you are, but he’ll find you sooner or later. And when he finds out, both you and I and our family are going to be in big trouble. I’m glad I came here before he did. I’m sorry to say, but we have to do some work to make our lies a reality.”

Kermit was troubled. “You want us to lie for this?”

“It’s the only way.” Roger was even more troubled by Kermit’s look. “I suggest we alert the other- Muppets?”

Kermit nodded. Roger had no idea if the nod was verifying that they were called Muppets, or if it was verifying that we should alert them. But either way, he took it.