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A Heart of Gold

Aaron

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How i've missed this story, and your writing in general Lisa. Beautiful
 

The Count

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Sorry, didn't find/read this until now. Lisa, your writing never fails to play on every emotion possible. Funny: The faux interrogation. Sad: The way we feel for Kermit going through this. Togetherness: How the various factions gather to watch the first of Kermit's new show. Fear: The last sentence, enough said.

It's all so wonderful that it just makes us ask... More please?
 

Muppetfan44

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HOORAY!

I'm so glad that we got an update! and what a wonderful update it was! I loved seeing Kermit's perspective with the Marines and reading how everyone was tuning in for the show...


You have totally been making my summer with all of these delightful updates with my favorite fan fic...I can't wait to read more...

Seriously, I can't wait to read more...post more now......or soon...:stick_out_tongue:
 

TogetherAgain

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Chapter Sixty-Four

Robin quietly sat on the edge of his bed and fingered today’s link in the very small paper chain. He knew that he should have been asleep a long time ago now, but it was hard to feel tired when he’d just seen and heard his uncle—not in person, but seen and heard him nonetheless—for the first time in a week.

Kermit had looked and sounded okay. Sometimes—much more than anyone had expected—he had even been happy, laughing and talking with Bob and the other Marines whose names they would surely learn in time. After so many weeks of seeing him so tense before he’d left, and the months before that when he’d had so much trouble adjusting to being home again, it was good—so very good—to see him smile and laugh.

Robin wondered if his uncle still had nightmares every time he woke up.

But Kermit’s emotions and psyche and trauma and guilt were not picking at Robin’s mind tonight. Kermit’s absence, though especially noticeable right now, was not keeping the young frog awake. No, it was something very subtle that had been in the show, almost unnoticeable.

From the moment Kermit arrived at his unit’s camp, there had been the noise—quiet and distant, but constant—of explosions.

Robin wasn’t sure what to think about that. Here, they had explosions so often that they rarely startled him anymore… but they weren’t quite that constant. He couldn’t grasp it enough to worry about his uncle; danger was a strange, abstract, intangible thing that he had never really tried to understand. Some things needed to be avoided for safety reasons, and Gonzo tended to run towards those things. Beyond that, he didn’t need to know much about danger… did he?

“Should get to sleep, Little Buddy,” Sweetums said quietly. He’d been sitting on the floor in front of Robin since the frog had sat down on the bed. They had been very still and quiet in this room ever since the show had ended. “School tomorrow.”

Robin nodded, sighed, and turned to crawl under the blankets.

Sweetums stood up and pulled the blanket back, waiting for the little frog to settle. “Want me to stay here tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

Sweetums gently smoothed the blanket down over Robin before he bent over to carefully touch a kiss somewhere in the little frog’s direction. From Robin’s perspective it was always an overwhelming gesture, but Sweetums had just brushed his teeth, so at least it was minty.

The hulking monster turned out the light. “G’night, Little Buddy,” he said.

“Night, Sweetums.”

It was comforting to hear his great big friend clamber his way to the floor and curl up to sleep. It was hard for someone as big as Sweetums not to have a presence that filled a room—especially a room as small as this one.

But that presence wasn’t quite comfort enough tonight. Something just… wasn’t right.

Robin slipped out of his bed and nestled up against the monster’s chest. Half-buried in thick, long hair, there was some extra little security. If he couldn’t sleep here, he would go two doors down and see if Fozzie and Rowlf were still awake.

There were a lot of people he could turn to here for comfort, but the one he really wanted to curl up with tonight was on the other side of the world… and didn’t have fur.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Pfc. Pine was the first one out of the tent after lunch. He shielded his eyes as he stepped into the blinding sunlight and suddenly stopped walking, his gaze locked on the horizon. “…Larsen?” he called out, and he pointed. “What do you suppose that is?”

Larsen shielded his eyes, squinted at the horizon, and let out a low whistle as everyone who had been leaving the tent crowded around instead. “That’s a hel—is the camera here?”

“Right behind you, Larsen,” Kermit said.

“That’s a heck of a lot of smoke.”

“What do you think it’s from?” Emerson asked.

“Well I would guess a fire,” Kermit said lamely.

Casper nearly rolled his eyes. “That’s one hel—“

“Heck,” Larsen corrected.

Heck of a fire.” Casper turned to Kermit. “Frog, can’t they just bleep us out?” he whined.

“What’s over there that’s burning so much?” Cogswell mumbled.

“That’s to the south, right?” Geraldson said. “Hard to tell the distance of smoke…”

“Boys, what are you standing around for?” Major D. snapped as he emerged from the tent. He shielded his eyes and squinted at the massive column of smoke in the distance. “Holy… son of a gun,” he mumbled.

“Any idea, sir?” Larsen asked.

“…Could be Kuwait. More likely Saudi Arabia. Probably Eastern Region.”

Casper glanced around at the flat desert landscape that surrounded them, exactly the same in all directions. “How does he do that?” he whispered to Pine.

“GPS for a brain,” Pine whispered back.

“It’s an awful lot of smoke, sir.” Emerson said quietly.

“I can see that, Emerson. The question is, what’s—“ Major D. suddenly cut himself off, jaw dropping and eyes bugging as he let loose a word that would have to be censored. “Men, get back to work!” he snapped, and he marched off at full speed.

“Yes sir!” They obediently went their separate ways.

Kermit glanced at the camera and looked in the direction Major D. had gone. “Well, that…” He cleared his throat. “That can’t be good.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

“HERE is a MUPPET Newflash!”

The Muppet Newsman rushed to sit behind his desk, ruffling his papers as he went.

“IT has been reported just MOMENTS ago that explosions have occurred at SEVERAL major oil refineries across Texas and Louisiana. Authorities are RUSHING to extinguish the resulting blazes—“

A fireman rushed past the desk, spraying the Newsman with a thick white paste.

“…But of course, it’s only been a few moments.” The Newsman wiped the paste from his face and glasses before he continued. “The FULL extent of the damage of course will not be known until the fires have been EXTINGUISHED. Casualties have not yet been REPORTED, but the numbers are expected to be high. Consumers have begun RUSHING to the gas pumps to fill up their cars, as gas prices are expected to SKYROCKET—“

The Newsman’s desk shot up into the air. He watched it go and then looked at the camera.

“I knew this report was going too well.”

The desk landed in front of him, miraculously still in one piece, and he cleared his throat.

“The CAUSE of the explosions has not been determined, but terrorism is HIGHLY suspected, considering the chances of all of these refineries having a catastrophic accident at the exact same time are about as likely as a couple of pigs flying through the studio.”

Two pigs crash-landed on top of the Newsman and pulled themselves up, straightening their cardboard wings.

“That hurt,” said the pig in a red-and-white striped shirt.

“Flying is too hard,” agreed the one in a blue striped shirt, and they left.

The Newsman slowly pulled himself off of the floor, straightened his glasses, and continued.

“It has ALSO been reported that a similar explosion has occurred at the Ras Tanura Refinery—the LARGEST oil refinery in the Middle East. That explosion is ALSO believed to have been caused by TERRORIST activity. The president has URGED state governors to EMPLOY the National Guard to defend all U.S. oil refineries in attempt to PREVENT any further explosions.”

The Newsman’s desk blew up.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

“Alright, men,” Major D. sighed as he addressed his unit. He slowly paced in front of them, his arms folded across his chest. “That massive column of smoke to the south of us is the result of some all-too successful terrorist activity. They set off an explosion at the largest oil refinery in the Middle East, which of course set fire to all the oil there.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They’ve also hit all the largest refineries in Texas and Louisiana. Now, putting these fires out ain’t exactly an easy task. You boys all know what happens when water hits oil.”

He stopped pacing and turned to face them, rocking on his heels.

“Until these fires are out and the damages repaired, none of these refineries will be operable. Which means that the oil industry, particularly in the U. S. of A, will be short approximately 2,652,300 barrels… every single day. At least, that’s the latest estimate. From what I’ve heard, the attacks haven’t stopped.”

He stopped rocking and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“What it boils down to, boys, is that pretty soon back home gas at five bucks a gallon will be a bargain. And if you think it’ll be any cheaper or easier to get over here, you’re pathetically mistaken.” He folded his arms across his chest. “We need to conserve every drop of gasoline possible—if it even is possible. The fact is, boys, they’ve hit us where it’ll hurt the most.”

He started pacing again, his eyebrows knit together.

“Back on the home front, no gas means no cars, no buses, no trucks, and no tractors. Now, we’ve still got plenty of oil refineries—at least for now—but if gas gets pricey enough, plenty people won’t even be able to mow their own lawns. Won’t be pretty here, either. Without gasoline, there won’t be no fighter planes or battleships or anything. Really, without gas, the whole Navy’s shot to—Holt, is that camera on?”

“Yes sir.”

“Whole Navy’s useless without gas, or at least immobilized. And before you boys start to gloat over some stupid rivalry, we won’t be much better. No fuel means no tanks, no Jeeps, no transportation of any kind except your own two boots. And that’s not just for moving us—that’s for moving all our stuff, too. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a desert, and all of our water is delivered to us, along with all our food, medicine, and cute little packages from your girlfriends back home.” The Major let out a deep sigh. “Boys, this war’s been ugly a long time now,” he said. “But it just got hideous.”
 

theprawncracker

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..........Wow. That's just... yeah, wow. That's definitely hitting where it hurts and it'll definitely be interesting to see how we're able to cope with this. I ADORE the Newsman scene. Absolutely hysterical! The Robin scenes always break my heart, but you're well aware of that, and I'm sure that's what you shoot for every time you write one.

Magnificent! More PLEASE!
 

The Count

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Wha huh? They did what? ! ?
But can't we just cifen off some oil that's turning the Mississippi coastline into the Gulf of Texaco?

Is afraid of what this'll mean for everyone... *Laughs a little at Newsie's foibles. *Is comforted a little by Robin curling up against Sweetums' chest. But mostly, I just want more story. Please?
 

Muppetfan44

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I meant to respond to the new update before this but I have I told you that you are frickin brilliant? Because you are! LOVED this update.

Such an interesting twist to the WWIII. Holy crap if that ever were to really happen......such an amazing plot twist and having the Major saying that the war is now hideous after being ugly...Brilliant!

SOOOOOO glad that we are getting updates on my fave fic on a regular basis...

Please post more soon...and again..you're brilliant!:smile:
 

redBoobergurl

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Oh man, that's some scary sh..oh wait is the camera on? Scary STUFF, scary stuff, that's it.

You are writing such emotion and scary things and yet there's still that hint of humor in the background that makes it just a hair more bearable. But dear God. Dear God....

More please?
 
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