Chapter 20
Polly, Clueless, and Mad Monty clustered together in the woods next to the house of the unintelligible (and unintelligent) scientists. They watched with mild confusion as the blue thing with the hook nose split right through the wooden fence—while carrying a chicken.
“I don’t get it,” Mad Monty growled.
“What’s there to get?” Polly asked.
Clueless Morgan scratched his horned head. “A chicken, apparently,” he said.
The lobster leader whacked the goat across his snout. “Not what I meant, moron,” Polly grumbled.
“Well then what did you mean, Polly?” Clueless asked.
“Yes, I’m very confused.”
The voice of the other idiot wasn’t the voice of the same idiots that Polly was accustomed to. “What the—Alright, who’s spyin’ on us? Come out, or we’ll tear ya limb from limb!”
“Good going, Link,” another voice said. “You’ve given away our position!”
“Sorry…” the other idiotic voice (the one that wasn’t the idiotic voices that Polly recognized) said with a sigh.
From slightly deeper in the woods behind Uncle Deadly’s henchmen emerged two pigs. The blonde one with a large head had his hands above his head. “I didn’t mean it!” he whined.
“Shut up!” Polly shouted, drawing a small sword. “Who are ya, and whadaya want?”
“Pst, Polly,” Monty whispered. “That’s the pig who’s also looking for that chalice!”
Polly’s squinted eyes widened. “Alright, boys, this is our chance! Don’t mess it up!” Polly hissed at Clueless and Monty. “Listen here, you two,” he motioned at each pig with his sword, “unless ya wanna be ham hocked, yer comin’ with us!”
“Ooh, where are we going?” Link asked. “I hope it’s not a gala—I’m definitely not dressed for it…”
Polly rolled his eyes. “No, stupid—”
“No what?” Clueless asked.
“Not you, stupid! Him, stupid!” Polly shouted.
“Nice to meet you, Stupid,” Link said, extending his hand to Clueless’s.
Clueless blushed. “Oh, the pleasure is mine,” he said, shaking Link’s hand.
“GAH!” Polly yelped. “Everyone who’s stupid—shut up!”
“…Am I stupid, Polly?” Mad Monty asked.
“Shut up!”
Monty nodded. “That’s what I thought,” he said.
“Well I won’t shut up, because I am not schtupid!” Strangepork shouted. “You can’t tell me to shut up! I’m a doct—”
Polly stabbed his sword forward, stopping just short of Strangepork’s throat. The elderly pig gulped. “That’s better,” Polly muttered. “Now… tell us what yer doin’ here!”
“We’ll do no such thing! Link, be a man!” Strangepork shouted at the “macho” pig. “Show this cruschtacean who’s boss!”
“Umm… I can’t,” Link said.
“Why not?”
“I left my sword in the carriage…” Link moaned.
Strangepork rolled his tiny black eyes. “Then take mine!” he said, yanking his sword from its sheath, knocking Polly’s sword out of his claw. Strangepork quickly handed his sword to Link. “There, now go! …Hurt them!”
“Well I don’t want to—”
“Yesh, but they want to!” Strangepork shouted.
By now, Polly had picked up his sword again. He turned around and stared at Clueless and Monty—who were just staring at him. “Where are your swords?” he shouted.
“In their houses,” Clueless said, patting his sheath.
“Draw ‘em!”
“I was never good in art…” Monty sighed.
“JUST TAKE ‘EM OUT!” Polly shouted.
“The pigs?” Clueless asked. “But we just met—though the one is very gallant.”
“Not the pigs! The swords, ya dip, the swords!” Polly screamed.
“We dip the swords in what?” Clueless asked.
Polly shrieked loudly, flailing his arms about. “DIP THE SWORDS IN THE PIGS!”
“Ooh, I love shish kebob!” Monty said, smacking his lips. “But… what pigs?”
“What—WHAT PIGS?” Polly shouted. “The only pigs here!”
“Well that’s not very nice, Polly,” Clueless said. “Monty eats a lot, sure, but he’s no pig.”
“You dolt! The pigs behind—” Polly whipped around to finish his sentence—needless to say, he didn’t. “Where’d they go?”
In the pasture in front of the woods, Polly, Clueless, and Mad Monty watched as two horses pulling a carriage carrying to pigs galloped away.
As the carriage pulled away, the two horses could be heard over the stamping of their hooves. “Cramp! Cramp! Oh, I shoulda stretched!” “I told you that you shouldn’t have eaten that fourth taco!”
Polly’s mouth fell wide open. “What the—AHHH!” he screamed. “You two, chase after ‘em!”
“But what about—” Clueless started.
“NOW!” Polly cried.
“You really want to leave the frog?” Mad Monty asked.
“I’ll take care of it! Just GO!” the lobster howled. Without another word, Monty and Clueless ran after the carriage. “And be discreet about it!” Polly shouted as they ran.
Polly kicked a stone and viciously scratched at a tree with his hook-claw (as opposed to his claw-claw). He sighed and sat on the damp forest ground. “This better work…” he cleared his throat and closed his eyes. “YO! UNCLE DEADLY! BOSS! WE GOTTA SITUATION HERE!”
In the air—or maybe it was just in Polly’s head—he heard a voice. But, yet again, not the voice he expected. “Hi there, you’ve reached the Tower of Uncle Deadly. The dark lord is torturing a client right now, he’ll be with you in a moment,” a gravelly voice said.
“Of course…” Polly muttered.
“Uncle Deadly would like to leave you with this complimentary waiting music. Please enjoy.”
“Music?” Polly asked for a second. “I don’t hear any—”
“OPER-ATOR!”
“YAH!” Polly shouted, falling forward. He whipped his head around and stared into the shaggy, red face of a panting, restrained… creature. “Wha… Who’re you?” he asked the Candlelight Mayhem who had gathered (instruments and all) behind him. (Well… now you know who they are.) (As if you didn’t before.)
“We’re the waiting music baby,” Dr. Teeth said with a grin.
Floyd nodded. “You have no idea how long we’ve been waitin’ for this scene!”
“Heh, I’ve got a hunch,” Polly said.
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
Kermit, Fozzie, Scooter, Dr. Bunsen Honeydew, and the (slightly maimed) Beaker ran around front to where Gonzo was rallying his chicken troops. “They may take your feathers, but they can not take your dignity!” Gonzo shouted, waving Kermit’s sword around.
“Luckily you don’t have any dignity to take, Gonzo,” Kermit said as he and the others approached the crowd.
The Duke of Wherever turned around and screamed. “Kermit! What are you guys doing with these monsters?” he asked, pointing the sword at Bunsen and Beaker.
Kermit scrunched up his face. “Well… I was coming for my sword, I’m pretty sure they were coming for their chickens,” the frog said.
“Never!” Gonzo declared. “No feather shall ever be shed from the skins of these chickens AGAIN!” he shouted, tossing his arms behind him—thus, losing grip of the sword, sending it directly behind a chicken, slicing off a few tail feathers. (Said chicken then passed out.)
“Oh, we couldn’t agree more, Mister Gonzo!” Bunsen said suddenly.
“Mee me!” Beaker nodded.
Kermit, Gonzo, Fozzie, Scooter, and the large collective of cluckers tilted their heads to side.
“Yes, Beaker and I no longer have any desire to take the fine feathers of these fowl,” Dr. Honeydew explained. “In fact, you Mister Gonzo, gave us this idea!”
Kermit stared at the pupil-less scientist. “Beg pardon?” the frog asked.
“Why, yes,” Bunsen said with a nod. “When Mister Gonzo chopped the fence Beaker built—” (Beaker sighed heavily.) “—to bits, it hit me like… like a flash of lightning!” (Beaker ducked instinctively.)
“What hit you?” Fozzie asked. “I think I felt a piece of wood hit me…”
Bunsen nodded. “Yes, exactly!”
Everyone (chickens included) tilted their heads again. Scooter looked around. “Okay, since no one else will… I’ll ask,” the squire said. “What?”
“Beaker and I are going to start a toothpick company!” Dr. Honeydew declared proudly, with Beaker posing just as proudly beside him.
Kermit scrunched up his face. “Toothpicks?” he asked. “None of us even have—”
Gonzo zipped over and slapped his feathery blue hand around Kermit’s mouth. “What a fantastic idea, Dr. Honeydew!” the duke declared.
Kermit shook his head and pushed Gonzo’s hand off of his mouth. “I’m sure they’ll sell great with boomerang fish,” he mumbled.
Bunsen gasped. “How do you know about boomerang fish? Have you been in our secret files?” he asked.
The brave and valiant froggy knight sighed. “Good grief,” he said. He strolled over into the group of chickens and pulled his sword out of the ground. “C’mon gang, we’ve wasted enough time. We’ve got a chalice to find.”
“Oh, a chalice?” Bunsen asked.
“Yeah, the jeweled chalice of Queen Francis IV,” Scooter said. “Heard of it?”
Bunsen shook his head. “No, no,” he said.
“I’m not surpr—” Kermit started.
“Beaker has, however. I believe he’s even been to the cave where it’s located—don’t you have a souvenir Queen Francis IV mug, Beakie?”
“Mee me mo!” Beaker said with an excited nod. “Mee mo mo!”
“Oh, yes, and a beanie cap,” Bunsen said with a smile.
“You… You mean you know where the chalice is?” Kermit asked.
“And they have a gift shop?” Fozzie asked.
“Indeed!” Dr. Honeydew said.
“Dr. Honeydew, you’ve gotta give us directions,” Kermit said. “It would decide my future!"
“And mine!” Fozzie added.
“Mine too!” Scooter chimed in.
Gonzo shrugged. “I’m pretty much set either way,” he said.
“Of course we’ll tell you how to get there,” Bunsen said.
“Oh, thank you so much, Dr. Honeydew. When I’m king, you’ll be greatly—”
“Beaker and I have one teensy condition, though,” the medieval scientist (oxymoron much?) said. Beaker motioned with his hands as to the relative size of this condition.
Everyone tilted their heads again (the poor chickens barely even have necks!). “What’s that?” Kermit asked.
“If it involves chickens—no deal!” Gonzo said.
“Oh, you may have the chickens,” Bunsen said. “We simply want your sword!”
“Mee!” Beaker squeaked, slicing at the air with an imaginary sword (and making the appropriate sound effects).
“My sword?” Kermit asked. “But… why?”
“Why, how else would we be able to make our new Muppet Labs Quick-Pick-Tooth-Sticks?” Dr. Honeydew asked.
Kermit frowned. “But… what if I need my sword?” he asked.
Fozzie grabbed Kermit’s arm and pulled him close. “Kermit, is a sword really worth the risk of losing the love of the most beautiful princess in all the land?” the bear asked.
The knight smiled, remembering the glistening blue eyes of Princess Piggy. Her bouncing golden hair, her soft, silky skin, her purple gloves… He quickly shook the thought out of his head. He looked at his best friend the bear and nodded once, firmly. “You’re right, Fozzie. Thanks.”
“Huh?” Fozzie asked. “Oh, I thought that was a joke. I was asking if you knew the punch-line!”
Kermit shook his head. He looked at Bunsen and Beaker, sighed, and removed his sheath from his waist. “Here,” he said, handing over the wrapped sword. “Be nice to her, okay?”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Mister Kermit!” Bunsen said. “And perhaps when you’re king, Beaker and I can be your royal inventors!”
The frog cleared his throat nervously. “That could be… nice,” he said slowly.
“Kermit, can my chickens come with us?” Gonzo asked.
Kermit looked back at Gonzo and the gaggle of hens behind him. “Erm… You can take one, Gonzo,” Kermit said.
“Aww! Man… I never get to do anything fun…” the weirdo muttered.
Scooter shook his head. “What are you gonna do with the other chickens, boss?” he asked. “You can’t just leave ‘em here.”
As Gonzo went to sort through the pile of poultry, Kermit scratched his head and watched them peck around. “Hmm… you’re right. Well… I guess we could always use some eggs back at the castle. Gonzo, send the rest of the chickens back to the castle, okay?” Kermit called to the weirdo.
“You don’t think that’s a little premature, chief?” Scooter asked.
“Of course it isn’t!” Fozzie said. “They’re already hatched! Ahh! Wocka! Wocka!”
Kermit shrugged. “I’m sure the princess will appreciate the hentiment,” the frog said with a smirk.
Fozzie patted Kermit’s shoulder. “Leave the jokes to the bear, frog,” he said.
The disgruntled knight shook his head. “You got it,” he said. “Scooter, get the horse and let’s go.”
“Right,” Scooter said with a nod before running off to untie the horse.
“Kermit!” Gonzo shouted. “Wait!”
Kermit sighed. “What is it now, Gonzo?” he asked.
“This is Camilla!” Gonzo said, proudly displaying the same blue-eyed chicken from before in front of Kermit and Fozzie. “She’s coming with us!”
“Brawk baw,” Camilla clucked lightly.
Kermit observed the chicken. “She seems nice, Gonzo,” the frog said.
“Oh, she is!” Gonzo said, waggling his eyebrows cheekily (…yes, that makes sense.)
The frog smirked and shook his head. “Oh, good,” he said. “Now, Dr. Honeydew, where exactly is this chalice?”
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked!” Bunsen said. “The directions, Beakie!”
“Mee mo!”