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Yes... another one. Remember the good old days, when I only ever had ONE incomplete story in the works at a time? ...Yeah, neither do I. Anyway. Here we go again.

Thank you both! Kathy, you can tell Chef that I appreciate the offer, but I'm really not in the mood for cake today. And Ed, don't you worry... the next chapter will have the big closing number. That's the part I've been struggling with... but I wouldn't even think of skipping it!

You know what amazes me, Ru? Your ability to find fragments of a big huge story that stand alone all by themselves just fine... like this. Or "Fancy Footwork," which happens to be one of my favorites of your stories. (I should re-read that. And Pig Out of Water... Love that one.) You call this...

Chapter Twenty “We won’t tell them what happened until after the show,” Miss Piggy said firmly as they took the elevator down. “It will only worry them.” Fozzie nodded, wringing his former hat in his hands. “We need to focus on doing the show.” “Right,” she said. “So don’t tell them.” “I...

Alright... a promise made, a promise kept. Confession: I haven't actually written anything new for this story since I promised to post something on my birthday. I just edited a bit to change where this chapter ends. But I've had this part written for so long now that it throws me off that the...

My guess is... typo. That 4 key is right next to the 5 key. But I know how familiar you are with Muppet Treasure Island, and enjoy the reference. YAY!

<cough> Five days since we've had a breeze. Sorry Beau. Can't help it. You know me and MTI. And now... I need to go dance and sing at the top of my lungs. (Without my family noticing.) I've got cabin fever! It's burning in my brain! I've got cabin fever! It's DRIVING me inSANE! We've got...

Oh, goodness. Six months? Really? Has it been that? I just re-read this last chapter and what I have of the next one, and now I feel absolutely drained. I'm not sure if that says more about my writing or my current emotional state, or even the temperature in my room. I don't do well in heat...

I was about to say that yes, actually, you did... but upon a closer reading of your initial post, I see that I was mistaken. In fact, you said the opposite: that you don't think there should be a complete ban on bumping old threads. However, the title of this thread strongly implies that you...

<rolls over> Blarrrh... 10 hours of data entry = very tired Lisa with not much brain left for writing. As in... staring at a blank wall sounds like a lovely activity right now. But tomorrow, maybe something will happen. I don't know. I'm tired. And I can't see the future.

Alright... I finally read through this yesterday. I have a few thoughts. 1.) Figgie, you have some great potential, and I am definitely looking forward to reading more from you! 2.) Grammar. Not spell-check, but grammar. I hate to be an annoying stickler about it--I am NOT going to start...

Danke sehr for the review, Wiggie! Also... I tried to contact you with MC's "Conversation" feature, but it seems you have that disabled. So if you could drop me a line... that would be most lovely. And, Prawnie... Who stole your keyboard? :p

I haven't, actually... It'd be more accurate to say that I've come to the same conclusion as other fic authors around these parts, based largely on the famous Fly-Shoe Pie recipe in Before You Leap and the centipede and barley soup in Kermit's Swamp Years. I'm afraid I'm very much behind in my...

Chapter Seventy-Eight The nation was in an uproar. It was bad enough that gas prices were so astronomical that whole industries had collapsed and the entire American lifestyle was all but shattered. It was horrendous and horrifying that they were entangled in a seemingly endless war overseas...

No. It is NOT from real life. To the best of my knowledge, nobody is brainwashing five-year-old kids and handing them guns. The war in this story started in about the same place and the same way the war in real life started... but it went to a much different, darker, and more desperate place...

Chapter Seventy-Seven As the gaggle of Muppets marched towards Robin’s school, flanked on all sides by every monster associated with them, Miss Piggy was hard at work on her cell phone, using every contact she had to alert the media. She didn’t bother trying to be classy about it. “No, you...

Of course I thought about that. I put quite a bit of thought into which Muppets might feel a bit odd calling someone other than their own mother "Mom," and which Muppets would feel completely natural about it, and which ones might be glad to have someone to call Mom. So I am very glad you...

Chapter Seventy-Six One short week after building Robin’s playground, the Muppets once again found themselves pacing restlessly while the young frog was away at school. Shortly after the bus picked Robin up, they gathered in the kitchen, waiting for the phone to ring and staring at the caller...

...But... but... But! ...<pouts> ...Except that I can't pout too much, because I'm so pleased and flattered that you even REMEMBER that scene of Scooter playing Monopoly in Chasing Robin from however many years ago. I mean, I think the only reason I remember it is that it was inspired from an...

Aw, Figgie, of COURSE I know you! Have I never acknowledged you before? Shame on me! I certainly meant to. I started reading Under the Mistletoe, and I'm afraid I didn't get very far, but I certainly enjoyed what I read! And yes, of course you can call me Lisa. It is my name, after all. As for...