Two's a Crowd (Muppets Fic)

[TwoHeadedLlama]

Brief Summary: A small rivalry between Lips and former Muppet Show trumpeter Delores spirals out of control after the rest of the cast begins choosing sides.



Two's a Crowd

Chapter 1: Back to the Beginning

It was a busy day at the Muppet theater. Kermit the frog had hardly gotten any sleep the previous night, since he had been busy making preparations for that day's auditions. The fifth season of The Muppet Show would be starting in a few months, and new acts were needed to keep the show 'fresh' so to speak. So that's what was going to happen today. Performers from all over the country were coming to display their skills, and Kermit had made absolutely sure that the theater was clean and sparkling, as much as it could be, so that the performers would get a good impression of the place. He was now seated in one of the red velvet seats that were placed near the very front of the stage, looking down at a clipboard he had in his lap. In it was a checklist of things that he needed to have ready before the performers arrived.

“Lights, check. Sound, check. Water backstage for the performers, check. New wallpaper put in the dressing rooms, check. Replacement curtains in case of explosions-”

“Hey boss! I got the forms all organized for you.”

Kermit looked up. The theater's resident gopher, Scooter, was standing next to him, holding a few pieces of paper in one hand and adjusting his headset microphone with the other.

“Oh. Good job, Scooter. Did you count how many people are auditioning this season?” Kermit asked.

“Less than last season. But some of these look pretty promising,” Scooter replied. “Like this one...”

Scooter handed the papers to Kermit, who immediately clipped them into his clipboard and raised it to his face. Scooter leaned over slightly and put a finger on top of one of the names.

“Could you move your finger, Scooter? I can't see it.”

“Oh.”

The gopher shifted his finger slightly to the side.

“This guy here, is famous for his tap-dancing snowmen act,” he said.

“Tap-dancing snowmen? How do you make snowmen dance?” Kermit asked.

“Put 'em on a hot plate, I guess,” said Scooter.

Kermit scrunched his face. “Maybe we'll put it in the Christmas special,” he said.

Scooter shrugged his shoulders. All of a sudden, he froze dramatically, and put his hand on the left ear of his headset.

“Huh? Yeah? I'll be right there,” he said into the mic. The gopher then lowered it and turned to Kermit.

“A few of the acts are here, boss. They're already backstage.”

Kermit nodded. “Fine then. Go tell them to make themselves at home. Auditions will start in a half hour.”

Scooter turned around and trotted to the end of the isle, where he then exited through a pair of stage doors on the left. Kermit sat still in his chair and watched him leave, and kept his eyes on the door for a few moments after he was gone. Good old Scooter, he was usually the most reliable reliable person in the theater, and often seemed like the only one who used common sense once in a while. The frog emcee sighed, and reclined in his theater chair. He felt unusually peaceful and relaxed for some odd reason. Usually on audition days he felt stressed and upset, but today seemed different. Maybe it was the feeling of accomplishment that he felt. After all, four seasons of a TV show was nothing to sneeze at, and for Kermit, it was quite the accomplishment, considering all the mayhem that usually went on behind the scenes. Kermit wanted to start the show off on a good note, and this year it seemed like he might actually get a chance to do it.

Kermit had been resting in this position for only a few minutes, when suddenly he heard footsteps coming from behind him. The frog sat up straight, and craned his neck around to see who was coming. It turned out to be Nigel, the conductor of the orchestra, and also the writer of some of the show's songs. He was walking down the center isle of the seats, carrying in his arms a large stack of papers with musical notes written on them. He gave Kermit a little wave as he approached, and upon reaching the location, took a seat next to his boss.

“Hi, Kermit,” he said, smiling half-halfheartedly. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Nigel,” Kermit said, returning the smile. “What's on all those papers?”

“Oh,” said Nigel as he shifted the papers in his hands. “Just a few songs I'm working on. Probably nothing you'd be interested in.”

Kermit nodded and turned his head to look at the stage, frowning. He and Nigel weren't exactly friends, in fact, they were more like rivals. It was because the two of them had once been pitted against each other in the fight for the role of TV show host, and ultimately, Kermit had come out the victor. Poor Nigel probably wouldn't even have had a job in the theater if he hadn't begged the owner to let him stay on as a conductor and composer. Kermit couldn't exactly remember the last time he had shared friendly small talk with the conductor. They rarely ever spoke to each other now, other than to discuss musical arrangements that could be used on the show.

The two of them sat in silence for a number of minutes. The lack of noise felt terribly awkward for both of them. Kermit thought long and hard about things that he could say to break the silence, but he could not come up with a single one. Nigel had always seemed to him like none other than a business partner, never as a friend, or even an acquaintance. So knowing what Nigel liked other than composing was a mystery to him.

The green emcee looked up at a clock to check the time. It was five minutes to show time, which meant the first act would be coming onstage any moment now. He looked at his clipboard and tried to find the name of the first act. Suddenly, Nigel spoke.

“Seats look pretty empty. I thought more of the cast would have shown up to watch the auditions.”

Kermit looked over at him and shrugged. “I thought so too. I know that Miss Piggy said she would defiantly be here, but she did tell me she had some shopping to do, so maybe she's just running late. As for everyone else, I don't have a clue.”

Nigel nodded, then craned his neck around to look at the balconies, but those were empty as well. He then looked back at Kermit, and seemed about to say something else when his eyes fell on the clipboard the frog was holding.

“Is that the list of today's acts?” he asked

“Yep,” replied Kermit.

“Who's on first?”

Kermit held the clipboard close to his face and squinted. Whoever wrote the list had very bad handwriting. But after staring at it for a few seconds, he managed to make out the first name on the paper.

“Someone named Delores,” he said.

“Delores?!” Nigel said suddenly. “You mean the trumpet girl?”

Kermit's eyes widened as he put two and two together.

“Let me look,” he said, returning his gaze to the piece of paper. After a few moments, he looked back to Nigel with a stunned expression on his face.

“It says she's a trumpeter. So it is her!”

Suddenly, Scooter poked his head out from the edge of the stage right curtain.

“First act is ready to go on, chief,” he declared. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, yes, show her in!” Kermit replied with enthusiasm.

Scooter vanished as quickly as he had arrived. Kermit sighed a bit, and looked back at Nigel, who dropped his voice to a whisper.

“That's impossible!” he hissed. “She quit at the end of the last season. Why on earth would she come back?”

“I don't know,” Kermit said worriedly. “It sounded like she was getting a high paying job, too.”

“And now she wants to be a trumpeter again,” Nigel replied. “But that's fine. I mean, you haven't filled her position yet, right?”

Kermit gulped and shook his head. He calm, relaxed demeanor had vanished in a matter of seconds, for a new problem had suddenly arisen. And it was a doozy.

“So you did hire someone?!” Nigel blurted out, now that he was as unsettled as Kermit.

“Well, not exactly,” Kermit said quietly. “The Electric Mayhem-”

A loud, squeaking noise suddenly filled the air, causing the two nervous Muppets to jump in surprise. They quickly realized the the stage curtains were being parted, and adjusted themselves in their seats quietly, so as to appear calm and professional.

“Leave her to me, Kermit,” Nigel whispered hurriedly. “I know her better than anyone in the theater.”

Kermit nodded, and turned his attention back towards the stage. The curtains were now fully parted, revealing the trumpet player in question. She was a lavender-skinned woman, with a bob of blond hair covering her head. She was seated on a wooden stool in the middle of the stage, trumpet in hand, with a music stand positioned in front of her. The woman looked up from the stand to stare at the pair at the foot of the stage, beaming.

“Hello Nigel, Kermit,” she said in a high, pleasant voice. “Short time, no see.”

“Nice to see you too, Delores,” Nigel replied, returned the smile as best he could. “I thought you found a new job?”

“I did,” Delores said, changing her expression to a frown. “But I...I had to leave it. So now I'm back here. Would you like me to play something for you?”

“Well-”

“Um, Delores,” Kermit said suddenly, interrupting Nigel. “I have some bad news...”

Delores blinked in confusion. “What is it?” she inquired.

“While you were gone, the Electric Mayhem...you remember them, don't you?”

The trumpet girl rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I remember them, Kermit,” she huffed. “It hasn't been that long.”

“Ok, good. Just checking,” Kermit said.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, preparing to deliver the news. Kermit noticed that Nigel was shooting daggers at him (figuratively of course), but tried not to think about it. He would deal with the conductor later.

“The Electric Mayhem found themselves a new trumpet player. He's going to be working full time, which means he'll be playing in the orchestra as well.”

Delores appeared shocked. But her surprise quickly turned to anger, and Kermit and Nigel braced themselves for the impact.

“What do you mean “The Electric Mayhem chose their trumpet player?” I thought Nigel was the one in charge of replacing me?”

“Well, I was,” Nigel grumbled. “But Kermit here-”

“It was my fault, Delores,” Kermit sighed. “The band wanted to pick the next trumpeter, so I let them. I mean, I'm really sorry. I didn't know that you would come back so soon...”

Delores glared at him.

“Humph. I would have thought you'd go about it in a more professional way, Kermit,” she muttered.

The trumpet girl got up off her stool, and tucked her music stand under her arm, preparing to walk offstage.

“I'm really sorry about this,” Nigel said as she started to walk away. “Maybe next time...”

But Delores didn't hear him, and was gone in a matter of seconds without saying a word or even bothering to look at him. Nigel groaned and looked at Kermit, glaring at him.

“Now you've done it, frog,” he grumbled.

“She would have found out eventually!” Kermit defended. “I just didn't want to delay it too long.”

Nigel gave his companion a long, hard look, before getting up out of his seat. He walked around to the side of the stage, climbed some stairs to get on it, and vanished backstage. Kermit sighed in exasperation.

“What have I gotten myself into?” he moaned, covering his face with his hands.


Backstage, Delores pushed her way through a crowd of Muppets and performers, trying to make her way to the stage door. The trumpet girl had tears streaming down her face, revealing the pain she was in. She could hear people yelling at her, telling her to stop running, or to watch where she was going, but their shouts fell on deaf ears. Delores simply didn't care, and continued to run until she reached the door. But she didn’t open it, instead she leaned against it and rubbed her eyes on her sleeve, trying to remove any traces of her outburst.

She didn't blame Kermit or Nigel for the problem at all. In fact, she was more worried about what would happen to herself. Trumpet playing was really the only thing she had to offer, and being fired from her job had dealt a serious blow. Now the only place Delores really called home had replaced her, with someone unknown. The trumpet girl was devastated, but as she stood there at the door as the panicked thoughts raced through her mind, a plan started to form. A single light in the darkness. The chance of it being successful was incredibly slim, but she had to try it, even if it wouldn't work.

Quietly, Delores opened the metal door, and slipped outside, shutting it behind her with a small click. No one noticed her leave.

To be continued...

 

[AlittleMayhem]

Very good start! I'm interested in where this goes!

 

[TwoHeadedLlama]

Alright, next chapter is finally ready.


Chapter 2: For the Birds

“Alright,” Gonzo said. “Now, take a deep breath...That's right...In...and out.”

The blue, hook-nosed creature was sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor of a small bedroom. To his left, a little white chicken named Camilla was also sitting down, her eyes closed in deep relaxation. Because she was a chicken, it was difficult for her to sit in a cross-legged position, so Gonzo was allowing her to sit in her usual 'hen-style' sitting posture. To his right sat Lips, the Electric Mayhem's resident trumpeter. He was also sitting cross-legged and attempting to relax, just like Camilla, except he was not a chicken. Gonzo was trying to relax as well, but it was difficult because he was holding a meditation book in one hand, and had to glance at it every now and then to make sure he and the others were doing it right.

“Bwak-kat?” Camilla squawked lazily to her instructor.

“Oh! I'm not sure. Let me look,” Gonzo replied.

He put the book close to his nose and began to read from it. After a couple minutes of dead silence, Gonzo finally lowered the book and looked back at his chicken companion.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said. “We just keep breathing slowly until the next step, which should start in...two seconds.”

Gonzo turned to look at Lips, who was sitting as still as a statue. The blue instructor raised an eyebrow at him, and tapped him gently on the knee.

“You're remembering to breath, right Lips?”

“Mm-hmm,” Lips replied sleepily.

“Good. That's the most important part, you know. The breathing part. Don't forget about it.”

Gonzo sighed and glanced back at his book. After studying it for a few seconds, he closed it up and placed it on the ground in front of him.

“Alright,” Gonzo said. “Now, as you're breathing, try to imagine a quiet, peaceful place where you can unwind and relax.”

He closed his eyes and after a few seconds, a place began to form in his mind. A tranquil forest scene, a clearing of grass in the middle of a green, leafy wood in the middle of the summer. It was evening, and a cool breeze was blowing through the branches of the maple saplings as they fluttered gently. Gonzo could picture himself seated on a picnic blanket in the center of the gentle clearing, looking across the plaid surface into the eyes of his beloved Camilla...until a tree fell on him.

“Wha-what?!” Gonzo shouted as his was abruptly shaken out of his peaceful dream by the feeling of something crushing him. After a few seconds of confusion, he suddenly realized that it was Lips who had fallen on top of him. Gonzo began to hit him with the hand that wasn't pinned under his body.

“Lips!” he cried. “Wake up! You're too relaxed!”

“Baw-kah! Baw-kah!” Camilla squawked loudly as Gonzo struggled to get free.

Lips was up in a second, and quickly turned his attention to the downed blue creature, who was gasping for air.

“Oh, man! I'm sorry, Gonzo. You alright?” he asked as Gonzo began to sit up, very slowly and carefully.

“I'm fine,” the flattened instructor said as he dusted himself off. “I've had way worse things happen to me in this house,” he chuckled good-naturedly.

Lips sighed in relief. “Well, I think I'm relaxed enough,” he said, smiling a bit.

“Good to hear,” Gonzo replied, nodding. “I'd say the exercise was a success, then! Do you think that-”

He was suddenly interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps marching towards the bedroom door. After a few seconds, the marching stopped, and the door was suddenly flung open. Floyd Pepper, the band's bassist, was responsible for the intrusion.

“Hey, man! Are you done with that fancy exercise of yours? We've been ready to jam for fifteen minutes!”

Lips nodded confidently. “I'm ready,” he declared.

Floyd blinked. “I hope you are, cause these chicks are getting' a bit impatient. Zoot already found an egg in his sax.”

“It's alright,” Gonzo said. “I'll let the girls know.”

Floyd gave him a hard look, and walked out of the room. Lips and Gonzo got to their feet, and soon followed out behind him.

The bedroom opened up to a large living room, or at least, it would have been large, except for the fact that most of the space was taken up by chickens. There were birds in every corner of the room, literally. Chickens lined the windowsill, the bottom of the staircase, and the tiled floor, which was virtually blanketed by hens and their assorted feathers. The only side of the room that remained chicken-free was occupied by the Electric Mayhem's band stand, along with the members of the Mayhem themselves. Gonzo said his goodbyes to Lips, before taking his leave by way of the living room door. Dr. Teeth, the band's leader, as well as the renter of the house they were in, was adjusting the sound on his keyboard. Next to him, Animal, the wild drummer, was tapping one of his drumsticks on the bass drum impatiently, waiting for a release from the noisy squawking that filled the air. Janice, the guitar player, lazily twirled a lock of her hair as Zoot, the saxophonist, wiped remnants of egg yoke out of his instrument with a towel.

Floyd took his spot next to Janice, who smiled slightly upon his arrival.

“Like, Floyd,” she said quietly, so that no one but the bassist could hear her. “Why do we have to have all these chickens, like, here?”

“Because we're tryin' to help Lips get over his stage-fright,” Floyd sighed. “We needed an audience to play in front of, and the hen's were the only ones that volunteered.”

“Seems like a lot of effort just to, like, get him to play in our band,” Janice replied.

“I know, baby. But trust me, it'll be worth it in the long run,” said Floyd, before dropping his voice to a whisper. “We got us the best trumpeter in the business now, and there's no way the frog can say no.”

Dr. Teeth looked up from his keyboard and peered over at Lips, who had taken his position to the right of the keyboard, and was glancing around, a bit nervously, at the swarm of feathered creatures.

“You ready to try this, Lips?” said Teeth in his characteristically gruff voice.

“Let's do it,” came Lips's reply.

“Alright then!” the bandleader shouted, causing everyone in the room to quiet down. “We're gonna rehearse 'Barnyard Boogie' today, which is the song we plan to open up the first episode with, provided our froggy friend gives approval.”

The chickens clucked and nodded in agreement.

“Now, this here song is gonna be a special one, since we plan to let our new trumpet man, Lips, sing a line in it!”

The chickens began to cluck excitedly. But Lips was not paying any attention to them, or Teeth. Instead, he was trying to focus on what Gonzo had been teaching him.

“Remember to breath, don't think about anything except the trumpet...”

They were the simplest instructions in the world, and yet for Lips, they were also some of the hardest. The trumpeter had suffered from chronic stage-fright his entire life, and it was only now that he was trying to do something to fix it. For years he'd only play his trumpet on recordings, but never in his life had he made a live appearance. That was, until Lips encountered the Electric Mayhem, who promised to help him with his problems, and even invited him to join their band. For Lips, it was a godsend. His dream of performing on stage could finally be realized. And with the help of the chickens, he was slowly, but steadily, making progress.

“Chickens give unconditional love and affection,” Gonzo had told him. “You'll never meet a friendlier, gentler and more forgiving species than a hen. They'll make a great audience to practice on!”

Lips smiled at the thought of Gonzo's words. He had to admire the guy for his devotion to chickens, even if it was extremely weird. The trumpeter turned to Dr. Teeth and nodded at him, causing the bandleader to grin.

“One! Two! Three! Four!”

The band broke into song, playing their instruments loudly and passionately. The chickens in the room swayed from side to side to the beat of the music. The intro to the song was jazzy and hot, just the way the Mayhem liked it. After a few seconds, the music died down a bit, and Dr. Teeth began to sing.

“Peep, peep!” said the chick in the barnyard pen
“Quack, Quack!” said the duck. “Won't you let me in?”
“Cluck, cluck, cluck!” said the little white hen
“Let's boogie in the barnyard.”

Dr. Teeth cast a glance at Floyd. The bassist didn't miss a beat, and sang in his raspy tone;

“Baa, Baa!” said the sheep from another bowl.
“Moo, Moo,” said the cow. “Let the butter roll!”
“Cluck, cluck, cluck!” said the little white hen
“Let's boogie in the barnyard.”

The next line was Lips's. The trumpeter felt his anxiety beginning to build, and his heart was starting to beat faster, but he chose to ignore it as best he could and continue on. This was his big moment, there was no way he could slip up now.

“Yeah, the barn yard was jumpin',
Everybo-”

Lips suddenly stopped singing mid-sentence. The confidence he felt had suddenly gone out the window completely. For he'd spotted someone at the back of the crowed, someone the trumpeter had never seen before in his entire life. A purple-skinned woman with short, blonde hair was standing in front of the living-room door with her arms crossed. But what frightened Lips most was the fact that she seemed to be glaring at him. True, it could have been his imagination, but still, her presence was frightening enough to make him freeze in place, unable to move or make noise.

The band noticed this change immediately, and brought their music to a screeching halt. The chickens in the room clucked in confusion at their sudden silence, but the band payed them no attention. They stared at the woman in amazement. How did she even get in without them noticing her? An awkward, extremely unpleasant silence filled the room, and for a few moments, it seemed as if time had completely stopped. Finally, Dr. Teeth, taking one for the team, broke the silence.

“Well hello there, Delores,” he said cheerfully. “Nice of you to come!”

“Nice to be back,” Delores replied, dryly. “I heard you found yourselves a new trumpeter.”

“Yeah,” Floyd spoke up. “We did. You weren't around, so we were kinda obligated to do so.”

Delores made eye-contact with Lips, who immediately looked away. The trumpet girl continued to study him though, carefully analyzing every aspect of his appearance.

“He dosen't look like much,” she thought. “I wonder where they picked him up? A street performer, maybe?”

“What's his background?” Delores asked aloud. “Does he have any classical training?”

Dr. Teeth seemed about to say something, but Floyd spoke before he could get it out.

“No way, babe!” he chuckled. “You don't need a bunch of that square stuff to play with us.”

Dr. Teeth shot a glare at the bassist, silencing him. He then turned to Delores with a more pleasant expression on his face.

“Well, Miss Delores, I wouldn't say he has as much training as you did, but Lips is still a fine trumpet player in his own right.”

“Lips?” Delores said in a confused tone. “His name is Lips?”

Everyone in the band nodded, except for Lips himself, because he was trying to hide behind Dr. Teeth's keyboard stand.

“Now, uh, what can we do for you today, Delores?” said Teeth. “Why did you come here?”

“I want my job back.”

The chickens gasped, and began to cluck amongst themselves. Delores took this opportunity to walk over to Teeth's keyboard, trying her best not to step on any chickens as she went. Dr. Teeth got up from his stool, and the rest of the band gathered around his position. They were ready.

“Can't do that, I'm afraid,” said Teeth. “Lips is kinda the official trumpet player now. Kermit said-”

“I know what Kermit said,” Delores interrupted. “And he had no right to say it. You know very well that Nigel is in charge of hiring new musicians for the show.”

“But we're in charge of the band, man!” Floyd interjected. “So we choose who gets in and who don’t. Kermit can't force us to accept a new band mate, it's in our contract!”

“You used to like it when I was in your band,” Delores growled. “You never had a problem when Nigel hired me.”

“Well, you left!” said Floyd. “So we had to replace you.”

“But what about the orchestra? You don't really need him in the orchestra!”

Dr. Teeth stepped between the two, blocking each others view.

“Alright,” he said, with control. “That's enough. Delores, I know you're upset about the whole thing, and I understand that. But what's done is done, and none of us can change it.”

Delores gave him a long, hard stare. But she knew it was useless. Once the band had set their minds on something, there was no going back.

“Alright,” she uttered. “I-I guess that's it then.”

The trumpet girl turned around, and walked out of the room. The band stood in silence until they heard the front door slam shut. After that, they gave a collective sigh.

“What in the name of Charlie Parker was that?” Zoot spoke up.

“Like, where's Lips?” asked Janice.
“Lips??” Animal growled worriedly.

Dr. Teeth's eyes widened. Lips had completely slipped his mind during the conversation, and judging by the looks on the others faces, it had slipped their minds, too. After dismissing the chickens, they began to search the house, and eventually-

“FOUND LIPS!! FOUND LIPS!!” Animal cried from the bedroom.

The others quickly gathered in the room, only to find Animal sitting on top of the bed, pointing at something on the ground. Lips was sitting on the floor in a fetal position, with his tunic pulled over his knees.

“I'm fine, man. I'm fine,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”

“Let's give him some space, folks,” said Teeth.

The others filed out of the bedroom, all except for Floyd, who stayed behind for a few moments. He walked over to Lips's position and crouched down next to him.

“Don't worry about that trumpet girl,” he said. “She's a spitfire for sure, but there's no way she'll be able to take your spot. You're with us now, man.”

He stood back up and left the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Lips got to his feet and walked over to the bedroom window.

“Remember to breath, don't think about anything except the trumpet...”

The words no longer brought him comfort. But somehow, it wasn't being replaced or kicked out of the band that worried him...

***

“Delores! Delores!” shouted Nigel as he rushed across the road. He had been searching all over the neighborhood for the woman, and had finally spotted her walking along the sidewalk near the band's house. She must have seen him too, for upon sighting the winded conductor, Delores came to a dead stop and waited for him to get to her location. Nigel embraced her in a tight hug.

“Thank goodness! I've been searching everywhere for you! Listen..”

He dropped his voice to a whisper.

“I talked to Scooter about an hour ago, and discovered a bit of information you might be interested in.”

Delores's eyes widened. “What is it?” she replied, also whispering.

“Lips, the guy replacing you, hasn't signed the show's contract yet. Which means the question of who gets to be the trumpeter is still up in the air.”

Delores's heart skipped a beat, and her jaw dropped in shock. Was there still a chance for her?

“Why hasn't he signed the contract?”

“According to Scooter, it's because he doesn’t feel quite ready to commit himself to the show,” said Nigel. “Now, here's the thing. Kermit hasn't been using any of my suggestions for the show at all. Not one. And other than the theme song, nothing I've composed has made it in either. So I'm going to try to get you hired as trumpeter, since it would mean big things for both me and you.”

“How are you going to do that?” asked Delores.

Nigel looked around the area in all directions, making sure that no one was around to hear him. Once satisfied, he leaned over and whispered something in the trumpet girl's ear. She nodded at him.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” said Delores. “A little odd, but I think I can manage.”

Nigel smiled at her. “You'll start on the first day of rehearsals, which is three weeks from now. I'll take care of the rest...”

To be continued...

 

[AlittleMayhem]

Ohhh,i wonder what Nigel has planned!

 

[Mister Muppet]

Interesting So Far, Can't Wait For More