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Sam and Friends BookSESAME STREET - ALL GROWN UP
The opening scene shows Bert and Ernie shuffling through boxes in an attic. “Oh, look,” said the yellow, long-headed Bert. “It’s my birth certificate.”
“Hey, let me see, Bert old buddy.”
“Well, Ernie…” Ernie grabs it and reads. “Ernie, it’s really not anything worth looking at.”
“Why, sure it is, Bert. Seems we were born at the same hospital. See my certificate here.” He shows Bert his birth certificate.
“Wow, you’re right, Ernie. And, look, it’s the same doctor, and…wait, wait a minute, Ernie.”
“Hmm?”
“Ernie…I don’t believe this. Our mothers have the same name. Bertha McCheese. The mayor’s daughter.”
“Oh, sure, Bert, I remember stories my mom - well, my adopted mom - would tell me about Bertha. About her father, too.”
“Your…your mom told you stories about Mayor McCheese?”
“Why, certainly, Bert. She was the head cheerleader. And whenever she got on top of that pyramid at the football games, everyone in the stands would Grimace.” Bert sighed deeply, as usual. “And then there was the coach - he was a real clown.”
“Ernie…” Bert said, now somewhat annoyed at the change of topic.
“And, of course the campaign slogan - “We do it all for you.’”
“Ernie! Will you quit with the McDonalds jokes already. Do you know what this means?“
“Why, certainly, Bert. It means we both got delivered by Dr. Cliff Huxtable. And, that makes me really hungry for some Jello.“
“Ernie! See, see here, I was adopted too, a couple years before you were. And my adopted mom would tell the same stories.”
Ernie held his fingers to his mouth. “You mean…we’re brothers?”
“Yeah, Ernie, brothers! Isn’t this incredible!”
“Well, yeah, pal, but…I always thought of you as a brother. I mean, when I do this,” he said as he took Bert’s nose off and put it on a clay sculpture, “or this…” he said as Bert got extra annoyed at Ernie for taking his hat off and scrunching it up.
“Ernie, will you put my nose on and get to the point!”
“Oh, sorry, Bert.” Ernie takes Bert’s nose off the statue and puts it on his own face instead of Bert’s. “As I was saying…”
“Ernie!!! On MY face!”
“Oh.” He puts it back. “There. That better?”
“Yes, Ernie, much better. Now, as I was saying, we’re brothers.”
“Why, sure. We’ve always been brothers. If not by blood, then certainly in how we treat each other, how we care.” (Bert and Ernie sing “But I Like You.”)
I walked into their home. “I always thought you were, too.”
“Who are you?” Bert inquired.
“Oh. Well, you see, everyone’s worrying about the show going downhill and dying, and I thought I’d give it a proper end, just in case they do a really lousy job of it someday.”
“End. You…you mean all my friends would have to leave?” Ernie asked nervously.
“Oh, not at all. See, everyone’s going to get what they want most,” I promised him. “Come on, let’s go see Big Bird.”
Bert, Ernie, and I walked out to see Big Bird. “Hey, Big Bird. Listen, I just wondered, if you had one wish, what would it be.”
Telly Monster rushed onto the scene as he proclaimed, “This is Telly Monster, your Monster On The Spot, bringing late breaking news from Sesame Street. We are about to give you live coverage of the most sensation, breathtaking, and…”
“Hey, hold it, hold everything,” Kermit the Frog declared as he ran ont ot he set. “This is my job.”
Telly declared, “You’re back!”
“My back? What about my back?” He turns around, and we see the Number Painter has painted a “2” on his back.
“Well, well…it has a “2” on it.” (A classic two segment is shown.)
“That was for the Kermit fans. Because Kermit, you will be back with the Muppets, but Telly, you are getting your own promotion.” He looked at me eagerly. “You will replace the very annoying to most fans Tim McCarver in the broadcast booth.”
“I will. But…but for how long?”
“Till the Cubs win a World Series. He got to do the Red Sox curse-breaking year, now we’ll let a very similar, if slightly more animated, announcer handle the Cubs for however long it takes.” I then repeated my request to Big Bird.
“Well, gee…” Big Bird pondered that heavily. “I don’t know, I’ve never really liked change. I mean, maybe to see Mr. Hooper again?” Super Grover rushed into the scene. “Oh, hi, Super Grover. We were just talking about my wish.”
“Tell you what, Big Bird. I think you’d enjoy meeting Mr. Hooper again - someday. But first, I think you’re sort of like Peter Pan.”
Oscar popped out of his trash can. “Hey, what’s with all these wishes. I can’t stand to see so many people get what they want.”
“Calm down, Oscar, I think you’ll like what you see.”
“That’ll be the day!”
“Just wait your turn.”
Oscar glared at me. “Wait my turn! Grouches hate waiting their turn.” He grumbled and ducked down inside his can again.
“Anyway, Big Bird, since you are one of the biggest kids, size-wise there is, I think you would enjoy being able to fly.” I snapped my fingers, and Big Bird and Snuffleupagus each started flying, Big Bird by flapping his arms, Snuffy his truck.
“Hey, look, we can fly, we can fly, we can fly!” Big Bird shouted.
I nodded. “At the end of your days, when you’re done, you’ll be able to rejoin Mr. Hooper in Heaven; since, being a bird, you dont' have to trust Christ took your punishment for your sins and receive His forgiveness.” To Grover, I said, “And you’ll never run out of people in distress with a nine foot two canary and a sniuffleupagus flying around everywhere.”
“I should say not,” Grover agreed.
“Hey, is it my turn yet,” Oscar inquired snidely. “Or do I have to be content watching all those normal size birds ducking out of the way when Big Bird and Snuffy pass by.”
“Just a little while longer. Cookie Monster, of course, will get to eat all the cookies he ever watned, and the Count will be able to count them as Cookie eats. And now, Oscar, you will get your wish.”
“This better be good. All those happy people are disgusting!”
I grinned sheepishly. “Oh, don’t worry, Oscar. You see, the reason for the Street’s demise was that people kept getting dumber and dumber, and let a society of the lowest common denominator change it, instead of the Street influencing the society like it used to.”
“Yeah, so what are you saying?”
“If this nation does not turn around soon, you will get to be campaign manager,” I said, imitating the ghost of Christmas Present. “And, the shadows of things to come, you shall see presently, showing that you will be able to annoy the whole world with what is to be put in place.”
Oscar was stunned as I disappeared, then reappeared at twice my normal size. Mute, like the Ghost of Christmas Future, yet with a menacing stare and with thunder all around me, I pointed Oscar’s attention toward something.
Oscar continued to complain. “What campaign, what are you talking about. What am I going to be able to do that’s so grouchy it annoys the whole world?! What are you…” Oscar glanced where I pointed, and gasped, as he saw the wish received by a certain orange muppet.
Said orange muppet was standing at a podium with his right hand on a Bible, while a blue Anything Muppet with a long, powdered wig was standing in front of Elmo, with his hand also on the Bible.
Oscar shuddered as Elmo spoke. “I, Elmo, do solemnly swear, that Elmo will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States; and will, to the best of Elmo’s ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help Elmo, God!”
As “Hail To The Chief” played and Elmo was cheered by the roaring fans, Elmo began to speak. “Let Elmo assert Elmo’s firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is… la da da da! Fear itself!”:
“Oh, no! President Elmo!” Oscar shuddered again. “This might be too much even for a grouch like me.”
The opening scene shows Bert and Ernie shuffling through boxes in an attic. “Oh, look,” said the yellow, long-headed Bert. “It’s my birth certificate.”
“Hey, let me see, Bert old buddy.”
“Well, Ernie…” Ernie grabs it and reads. “Ernie, it’s really not anything worth looking at.”
“Why, sure it is, Bert. Seems we were born at the same hospital. See my certificate here.” He shows Bert his birth certificate.
“Wow, you’re right, Ernie. And, look, it’s the same doctor, and…wait, wait a minute, Ernie.”
“Hmm?”
“Ernie…I don’t believe this. Our mothers have the same name. Bertha McCheese. The mayor’s daughter.”
“Oh, sure, Bert, I remember stories my mom - well, my adopted mom - would tell me about Bertha. About her father, too.”
“Your…your mom told you stories about Mayor McCheese?”
“Why, certainly, Bert. She was the head cheerleader. And whenever she got on top of that pyramid at the football games, everyone in the stands would Grimace.” Bert sighed deeply, as usual. “And then there was the coach - he was a real clown.”
“Ernie…” Bert said, now somewhat annoyed at the change of topic.
“And, of course the campaign slogan - “We do it all for you.’”
“Ernie! Will you quit with the McDonalds jokes already. Do you know what this means?“
“Why, certainly, Bert. It means we both got delivered by Dr. Cliff Huxtable. And, that makes me really hungry for some Jello.“
“Ernie! See, see here, I was adopted too, a couple years before you were. And my adopted mom would tell the same stories.”
Ernie held his fingers to his mouth. “You mean…we’re brothers?”
“Yeah, Ernie, brothers! Isn’t this incredible!”
“Well, yeah, pal, but…I always thought of you as a brother. I mean, when I do this,” he said as he took Bert’s nose off and put it on a clay sculpture, “or this…” he said as Bert got extra annoyed at Ernie for taking his hat off and scrunching it up.
“Ernie, will you put my nose on and get to the point!”
“Oh, sorry, Bert.” Ernie takes Bert’s nose off the statue and puts it on his own face instead of Bert’s. “As I was saying…”
“Ernie!!! On MY face!”
“Oh.” He puts it back. “There. That better?”
“Yes, Ernie, much better. Now, as I was saying, we’re brothers.”
“Why, sure. We’ve always been brothers. If not by blood, then certainly in how we treat each other, how we care.” (Bert and Ernie sing “But I Like You.”)
I walked into their home. “I always thought you were, too.”
“Who are you?” Bert inquired.
“Oh. Well, you see, everyone’s worrying about the show going downhill and dying, and I thought I’d give it a proper end, just in case they do a really lousy job of it someday.”
“End. You…you mean all my friends would have to leave?” Ernie asked nervously.
“Oh, not at all. See, everyone’s going to get what they want most,” I promised him. “Come on, let’s go see Big Bird.”
Bert, Ernie, and I walked out to see Big Bird. “Hey, Big Bird. Listen, I just wondered, if you had one wish, what would it be.”
Telly Monster rushed onto the scene as he proclaimed, “This is Telly Monster, your Monster On The Spot, bringing late breaking news from Sesame Street. We are about to give you live coverage of the most sensation, breathtaking, and…”
“Hey, hold it, hold everything,” Kermit the Frog declared as he ran ont ot he set. “This is my job.”
Telly declared, “You’re back!”
“My back? What about my back?” He turns around, and we see the Number Painter has painted a “2” on his back.
“Well, well…it has a “2” on it.” (A classic two segment is shown.)
“That was for the Kermit fans. Because Kermit, you will be back with the Muppets, but Telly, you are getting your own promotion.” He looked at me eagerly. “You will replace the very annoying to most fans Tim McCarver in the broadcast booth.”
“I will. But…but for how long?”
“Till the Cubs win a World Series. He got to do the Red Sox curse-breaking year, now we’ll let a very similar, if slightly more animated, announcer handle the Cubs for however long it takes.” I then repeated my request to Big Bird.
“Well, gee…” Big Bird pondered that heavily. “I don’t know, I’ve never really liked change. I mean, maybe to see Mr. Hooper again?” Super Grover rushed into the scene. “Oh, hi, Super Grover. We were just talking about my wish.”
“Tell you what, Big Bird. I think you’d enjoy meeting Mr. Hooper again - someday. But first, I think you’re sort of like Peter Pan.”
Oscar popped out of his trash can. “Hey, what’s with all these wishes. I can’t stand to see so many people get what they want.”
“Calm down, Oscar, I think you’ll like what you see.”
“That’ll be the day!”
“Just wait your turn.”
Oscar glared at me. “Wait my turn! Grouches hate waiting their turn.” He grumbled and ducked down inside his can again.
“Anyway, Big Bird, since you are one of the biggest kids, size-wise there is, I think you would enjoy being able to fly.” I snapped my fingers, and Big Bird and Snuffleupagus each started flying, Big Bird by flapping his arms, Snuffy his truck.
“Hey, look, we can fly, we can fly, we can fly!” Big Bird shouted.
I nodded. “At the end of your days, when you’re done, you’ll be able to rejoin Mr. Hooper in Heaven; since, being a bird, you dont' have to trust Christ took your punishment for your sins and receive His forgiveness.” To Grover, I said, “And you’ll never run out of people in distress with a nine foot two canary and a sniuffleupagus flying around everywhere.”
“I should say not,” Grover agreed.
“Hey, is it my turn yet,” Oscar inquired snidely. “Or do I have to be content watching all those normal size birds ducking out of the way when Big Bird and Snuffy pass by.”
“Just a little while longer. Cookie Monster, of course, will get to eat all the cookies he ever watned, and the Count will be able to count them as Cookie eats. And now, Oscar, you will get your wish.”
“This better be good. All those happy people are disgusting!”
I grinned sheepishly. “Oh, don’t worry, Oscar. You see, the reason for the Street’s demise was that people kept getting dumber and dumber, and let a society of the lowest common denominator change it, instead of the Street influencing the society like it used to.”
“Yeah, so what are you saying?”
“If this nation does not turn around soon, you will get to be campaign manager,” I said, imitating the ghost of Christmas Present. “And, the shadows of things to come, you shall see presently, showing that you will be able to annoy the whole world with what is to be put in place.”
Oscar was stunned as I disappeared, then reappeared at twice my normal size. Mute, like the Ghost of Christmas Future, yet with a menacing stare and with thunder all around me, I pointed Oscar’s attention toward something.
Oscar continued to complain. “What campaign, what are you talking about. What am I going to be able to do that’s so grouchy it annoys the whole world?! What are you…” Oscar glanced where I pointed, and gasped, as he saw the wish received by a certain orange muppet.
Said orange muppet was standing at a podium with his right hand on a Bible, while a blue Anything Muppet with a long, powdered wig was standing in front of Elmo, with his hand also on the Bible.
Oscar shuddered as Elmo spoke. “I, Elmo, do solemnly swear, that Elmo will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States; and will, to the best of Elmo’s ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help Elmo, God!”
As “Hail To The Chief” played and Elmo was cheered by the roaring fans, Elmo began to speak. “Let Elmo assert Elmo’s firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is… la da da da! Fear itself!”:
“Oh, no! President Elmo!” Oscar shuddered again. “This might be too much even for a grouch like me.”
