Nightmare on Sesame Street

[RedPiggy]

PROLOGUE

Night had fallen on a strange neighborhood, the pale moonlight shimmering off of the cold metal lampposts, none of which were on. The entire street was deserted. A piece of crumpled paper tumbled across the asphalt.

The thin Caucasian woman gulped. Her heart began to beat faster.

Why did she keep coming here?

She had no idea where she was!

She looked to the left, high up on a building rooftop. There were wire-mesh-covered boxes with stray gray feathers littering the entire area. On the right, at the bottom of a brownstone, was a pile of trash and several dented gray cans, sitting in front of a patchwork wall made out of broken doors.

And there wasn’t a single chocolate jewel shop or designer label anywhere around.

Surely … this was that Eternal Punishment Place everyone kept talking about.

She walked down the street, heading left as she reached a curve in front of a small grocery store. Then, her heart skipped a beat and she gasped as the ground began to rumble.

It felt different from the typical California earthquake, though….

She looked behind her, her eyes growing wider as a cloud of dust and the sound of thundering hooves appeared down the street. The trash cans were knocked over. All she could see were hooves and the snouts of countless cows and bulls. They had dull, lifeless expressions.

She tried to run, but the street merely rolled underneath her like a treadmill. No matter how hard her feet hit the pavement, she stayed in one spot.

And yet the bovine crowd was gaining. Soon they’d be right on top of her.

She’d be crushed.

Just as soon as she fell to the ground, crying in the fetal position, she heard multiple squeals as the stampede stopped just centimeters away from her. She felt the cold breath of someone sniffing her neck. Opening her eyes, refocusing as the tears fell away from her corneas, a beige cow with small curved horns and a large brass cowbell around her neck stared at her. She spoke with a kind of Julia Child voice, though without the accent.

“Excuuuuuuuuse me,” the cow asked rather curiously, “can you tell us how to get to Sesame Street?”

Lena shot up out of her bed, tossing the covers aside. She panted as sweat dripped down her face. She looked around – at least now she was back in her apartment. She glanced at the other side of the bed. It was empty. Sighing, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and shivered in the damp cold.

She didn’t know anyone from any place called Sesame Street.

At least it was just a dream, right?

She went to the bathroom, changing her slinky pale blue nightgown into something a bit more revealing. Maybe she was just too hot. She’d check the air conditioner. Stupid thing was always on the fritz.

She couldn’t call him, she thought to herself. It was always the same nightmare, and it was something she’d want to avoid mentioning to him. How could she look him in the eyes after admitting to being terrified of being trampled by a huge bovine crowd? How could she ever bring him presents, knowing that the scene where he rescued her in that dark alley years ago must have inspired this fear of rampaging farm animals?

She sighed, trying to resist the urge to cry.

At least it was just a stupid nightmare.

As she returned to bed, pulling up the covers, she let out a blood-curdling scream.

Her sheets had dusty hoof prints all over them.

 

[MartyMuppets]

This is great stuff. Spooky Muppet fun.

Good job.

 

[RedPiggy]

Thanks. This will be a story set mainly in other characters' nightmares for a bit, until the cause is revealed. And any violence will be sorta like this ... despite how spooky it was for the dreamer, the actual point was rather harmless, LOL. I've been wanting to do a Halloween story and a Sesame Street story ... so I'm writing this one.

 

[MartyMuppets]

Ah so there is more to come. Though it did work kind of well as a short story. Like a Sesame Street related brief Twilight Zone spot, I'm very curious as to where things go from here.

Edit: Sorry. I should have realized it wasn't just a short story by the word Prologue. But somehow I had missed that. No offence I hope.

 

[RedPiggy]

CHAPTER 1

Maria, dark spots under her eyes, shuffled into the Rodriguez apartment. She thought nothing of hearing the shower going in the bathroom in the back. After all, Luis, her husband, should have come home from work by now. The entire apartment seemed to be cast in a bizarre red light….

She looked at the outlets. No red nightlights, she thought to herself.

She looked at the ceiling fan. No red light bulbs, she noted in her mind.

So where was the red coming from? Who uses red lighting in their homes?

As she approached her bathroom, she stopped cold. Creepy music like a warped jack-in-the-box turned what sounded like a cute sing-song tune into a bone-chilling melody. The silhouette in the shower was not that of her husband. She glanced at the foggy mirror and was shocked to see herself as a very young girl, with pigtails, the bathroom resembling the humble one in the house where she grew up in Puerto Rico. She glanced again at the shower and it seemed to be that of her father. He was humming in a wary tone, “Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm … hmm, hmm, hmm, hummm … mmhmm hmm.”

She stood there in the bathroom, quivering, terrified to open the curtain. She could hear her mother barking orders at her from far away, “I said stay away from there! Maybe you don’t hear so good, eh, Maria?”

Maria gulped. Defiantly, she moved the curtain.

Suddenly, the lights went back to normal and Elmo turned around in the shower, jarring Maria out of her childhood flashback.

“Hello, Maria!” Elmo chirped happily, waving. “Will you help Elmo get squeaky clean?”

Maria gasped as she awoke, sitting straight up in the bed.

“What’s the matter?” Luis mumbled as he barely turned over in bed.

She shook her head. “De nada,” she replied, slowly getting out of bed. “I’m going to get a drink of water.”

She stepped into the bathroom, twirling her graying hair in her fingers in front of the mirror. She slowly turned the handle to the faucet … and gasped as a tiny goldfish flopped into the sink instead of water, mindlessly gasping for water.

<><><>

Kermit the Frog reclined lazily on the sofa of his house, flipping the channels on his television set.

“Environmental activists today were arrested for blockading several mining tunnels, demanding that drilling companies end practices that are killing off huge populations of --.” Click.

“I think the President has more important things to do than talk about some aging ghetto! There are humans who are going hungry and he’s worried if some blasted furry leg warmer gets his V8!” Click.

Kermit perked up as he appeared on the screen, standing in front of a stove with a iron frying pan in front of him. “Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog here.” The television shows Kermit in his reporter uniform, stirring a large fried egg in the pan. “This is your brain.”

Kermit sighed. He was about to change the channel again when the door knocked. Thankful to be rid of such boring nonsense on tv, he approached the front door.

It better not be some stupid salesman this late at night, he grumbled silently to himself.

Opening the door, Kermit saw a cloaked figure, a hood covering the person’s face. Standing just inches taller than Kermit, the figure handed him a tightly wrapped child, who cooed and gurgled happily.

Kermit smiled. “Robin?” he asked the giggling infant.

The cloaked figure shook its head.

Unwrapping the baby, a tiny frog face with large black-rimmed glasses and Kermit-style pupils and red tufts of hair exploding out of the top of its head revealed itself to the confused adult frog.

The cloaked figure removed the hood. It was Skeeter, whose long red locks spilled like cinnabar ropes over her shoulders. She adusted her pointed glasses and smirked. “I’ve got a track meet tomorrow. You’re watching Baby the Frog.”

“Baby the Frog?” Kermit asked with his face scrunched up.

Skeeter chuckled and smirked, shrugging. “You prefer Skermit?”

Kermit felt hot gusts of wind shower his shoulders. He turned around, only to see Piggy towering over him. Her eyes were wide and blazing with fire. Her face was beet red. The floor was steaming all around her.

“WWWWWWHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTT?”

Kermit collapsed to the floor in a fetal position, completely forgetting about the infant in his arms.

What was scarier? The real reason Kermit was glad to see Skeeter leave … or Piggy finding out about it?

Kermit gasped as he flung himself off the couch. He could hear Piggy growling and snarling in the bathroom. Gulping, he timidly walked up to the closed bathroom door and knocked. “Are … are you okay, Piggy?”

She let loose with a blood-curdling scream. After a few seconds passed, the bathroom got quiet, and Piggy opened the door casually, her tone cheerful and melodious. “Why, Kermie, fancy seeing vous here.”

Kermit frowned. “It’s my house,” he replied grumpily.

Piggy nodded. “We’re only staying here while our penthouse is being rented to that reality show, right?” she asked submissively. “There is nothing worse than staying in some little two-bit shack for longer than two weeks, mon capitan.”

Kermit sighed. “I was hoping you and I could settle back here on Sesame Street.”

Piggy laughed. “Oh, Kermie … vous always say the most amusing things.”

<><><>

The Count found himself staring at his bathroom mirror, which was surrounded by ninety ornate light fixtures, which flashed on and off in various patterns. That way, he could not only count the bulbs themselves, but also the bulbs that were on, the bulbs that were off, the pattern repetitions, etc.

He sighed. He felt his face, certain that his eyes had puffy bags under them.

Sadly, all he saw was the back bathroom wall, with a subtle, almost fractal pattern on the wallpaper.

He shrugged and grabbed a small glass goblet and filled it with tap water and headed back to bed. “That’s six, six sleepless nights,” he told himself in a dazed monotone. Even the thunder and lightning seemed too tired to respond.

Every time he closed his eyes, he kept seeing his friends and neighbors in dangerous situations, whether real or merely imagined. Gladys the cow, Maria, and Kermit … how could he be seeing them in such awful situations?

It was a nightmare.

A nightmare … on Sesame Street.

 

[MartyMuppets]

Ooooohhhhh!

Chilling suspense. Please keep it coming.

 

[RedPiggy]

CHAPTER 2

Count von Count sat on the steps of 123 Sesame Street, holding his head in his hands, sighing miserably. He rubbed his eyes. All he wanted to do was go to sleep, but he just couldn’t.

Suddenly the sound of an opening trash can roused Count out of his fatigue.

“Investments took a dive, huh?” asked the gruff voice of Oscar the Grouch.

Count appeared confused briefly but shook his head. “I have not been sleeping wery vell, Oscar, but it is not about my finances.”

“Shame,” Oscar replied with a smirk, “I could really use some new blood to mock.”

Count glanced at him with a hint of irritation, an expression that sent shivers down Oscar’s spine, as the Count was always cheerful, even when frustrated and angry. “You are a grouch, and I know grouches love misery,” the Count offered, “but I respectfully decline your adwise regarding money.”

Oscar chuckled and leaned closer over the rim of his trash can. “Look, I’m a big fan of making folks angry and sad and everything in between.” He wagged his index finger. “But yer not the only one with money to burn, y’know,” he chastised. “Yer forgetting I got quite the real estate in here. I got exotic animals of all sizes, a huge swimming pool … heck, I just put in a personal movie theater, heheheheh!”

“Then how come you have never participated in the inwestor meetings?” Count asked incredulously.

Oscar grinned. “Bitterman’s too nice for my tastes,” he offered with a wink.

Count von Count sighed and shook his head, staring at the sidewalk again. “I am dreaming all of my friends are in danger,” he said out loud without looking up.

“Finally,” Oscar announced, “something decent will happen on Sesame Street. You can’t imagine what life on this end’s been like!” he continued. “The place has been overrun with toddlers! It’s so sugary sweet I’ve been thinking of moving!”

Maria passed by. “Don’t listen to him,” she told the Count, dismissively. “He likes how the kids make him miserable,” she continued as she walked away.

Oscar stretched as far out of his can as he could, screaming toward Maria. “Hey! I don’t go around psychoanalyzing you, Skinny!” He sat back down and his voice became almost tender. “Look, Numbers … if you go around ta all da ones yer dreamin’ about … you’ll see their lives aren’t nearly dat miserable an’ you’ll feel better.”

Count von Count nodded slowly and stood. “I accept your adwise, Oscar. Thank you for your time.” He walked away, toward the subway entrance nearby. He accepted the advise, as it would certainly help … most people. However, what he failed to mention was that he felt that he was the danger all of his friends faced. He didn’t know why. He wasn’t even in most of the scenarios that played in his head. He just … knew … that getting closer to them might make things worse.

For some strange reason, his mind started to wander, the voice of a highly distressed man with a stern voice, screaming, “NOOOOOOO! It is... it is... wrong. IT IS WROOONG! A lifetime of discipline is washed away, and in its place... (laughs briefly then grunts) Bedlam. BEDLAAAAM! I am so old... there is nothing left but dry bones (sobs) and dead friends. Oh, tired. Oh, so tired.”

Count von Count blinked as he stood motionless in front of the ticket booth to get onto a train. Where had he heard that rant before? He thought for a few moments. Ah, he finally realized, it was that space show Patrick Stewart acted in.

He would make a list of the pros and cons of visiting the friends of his distressing dreams.

That made him smile.

At least it gave him something to count.

 

[The Count]

*Huggles der fic. More please? Make it so Number 1!

Baby the Frog... Ah, it's the Ribbety Riddler!

*Fish flops out of faucet... Gurgle, gurgle.

<333 how the story is going. Weeee! *Disappears.

 

[RedPiggy]

Sorry for the late reply ... not only am I working Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, but my back door's threshold just fell all to pieces. So, I guess that's how I'll be spending my day tomorrow. I'm glad you liked it. I've been feeling guilty about not writing a new Tinseltown fic, but at least I've found a place to offer some more hints about Lena's and Samson's old relationship. I've had an amusing epiphany regarding how to end this story, but I was going to work on it tomorrow and now my whole schedule's out of whack.

And while I'm mentioning references, Maria's is supposed to be similar to Julia Robert's plot in Flatliners, where her character finds her junkie dad in the bathroom.

And the Kermit nightmare just tickles me greatly, so I wrote it, LOL.

 

[MartyMuppets]

I hope things work out for you getting your door fixed in the end RedPiggy. And I look forward to finding out what happens next in this story.