Accident on Monday

The Count

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Jul 12, 2002
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Hooray! I'm glad that there are some shops like the coffee house :cluck: stopped at who are on the Muppets' side, opting to keep the rag mags out of circulation. Funnily enough, I'm okay with the ringtones, it's Piggy's phone, so they're her choices to make. Okay, so what'll we need to fix this?
:concern: Peanut butter...
:sing: Animal ate it.
:halo: Sor-ree.
:concern: Frisbee?
:sympathy: We lost it.
:concern: Wax lips?
:cool: Ah man, I can't find 'em.
:sing: Did you check your other pants?
:cool: I don't have no other pants.
Let's do this! More please.


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Nov 19, 2007
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Definitely one of my favorite chapters of this story. Loved the different ringtones and the back and forth between all the characters- very well written!

Curious to see what happens next.


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Mar 26, 2012
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Benvienudos! It's Sunda and while I would normally post this tomorrow, I will be working, so I thought I'd post this for you tonight. AND! You won't just get this chapter! Tell 'em Rowlfie!

:sympathy:: Miss Gina here has gone and done not one, but two new chapters!

That's right Rowlf puppy! Here's the first chapter and then tomorrow, if I gots the time, I'll hand over a new Monday for you! But for now, here's the new chapter!


It was here.

Today was the day.

After several days and weeks of lying in a hospital bed, eating some of the horrible hospital food, and being confined to a single room, Fozzie Bear was cleared for leave. Oh, he would need to be on crutches for another two weeks and he would also need to return for physical before now and after his cast was removed, but the point of the matter was that he was being sprung from the hospital by his best froggy friend.

Fozzie couldn’t contain his excitement; the prospect of getting out, seeing his friends outside of the four white walls that had been his constant companion for hours, days, and weeks was exhilarating, however in the back of his mind, he was feeling conflicted.

While he was of course looking forward to seeing his friends again, the act of leaving the hospital meant that he also wouldn’t be able to see Penny, the nurse that had taken care of him and whom had stolen his heart from their first chance encounter. Having Penny around had been the highlight of his stay, her sunny disposition and her caring nature had been the turning in the tide of melancholy feelings that had gripped him since he had learned just how close he was to never being there in the first place.

Fozzie wasn’t the kind of ladies man – or bear in this case – that Rowlf or Gonzo or even Kermit was; while the bear had never shied away from being friendly, he didn’t know the right words to say to a girl, to get them to notice him. This had been especially true once he had become famous; like any celebrity, people sometimes were friendly with him because of who he was as an entertainer and not as the bear who had grown up in upstate New York.

But Penny seemed different, was different, in that regard; Fozzie could been misreading everything of course, in that it was Penny’s job as a nurse to make sure that he was comfortable and was enjoying his stay, keeping himself busy, and out of trouble. Maybe she didn’t feel the same way that he did.

But if that was true, why did everyone think that she did? He had certainly heard enough times from Tim that Penny couldn’t stop talking about him or that she blushed whenever he said anything; even Kermit had mentioned that he thought his best friend had gotten a crush and that the object of that crush was showing interest right back.

The comic wouldn’t lie – hearing that Penny had a son had derailed him for a moment, his brain kicking his heart and stating that of course a pretty girl like her would be married. And while learning that she was a widow had put a bit of a damper on things, internally he was quite happy and learning that she was essentially free to see other people.

Should she of course want to actually see him.

And then there was Frankie. What a cute kid! The bear couldn’t lie – that kid was adorable and reminded him of himself at that age; young and eager to learn about different things. That was the age to be, as far as the comic was concerned, the ripe age where things were still new and exciting and there was a whole world to explore. When they had hung out together, the two had gotten along like gangbusters, laughing and chatting with each other, the little cub asking all types of questions in regards to the show, Fozzie’s friends, and Fozzie in general.

Fozzie had no issues with the cub; in fact, he had hoped to see the boy again, along with his mother.

But certainly that wouldn’t be possible if he was being released, would it?

These were the thoughts that greeted the bear when he awoke that morning, having been told by one of the doctors that he was cleared to leave, following the tedious task of filling out paperwork before he left. Kermit was being a complete brick about coming and picking him up, even though Fozzie could tell there was something going on with the frog. He figured he’d ask later once they were in the car and heading back to the bear’s apartment.

And that’s where Penny found him when she came by. While Fozzie had been thinking about her, she had been thinking about him as well. Like Fozzie, she knew that today would most likely be the last time she would see him – in person that is – and there was so much she wanted to say and perhaps to do as well, but that was all for naught with him leaving that morning.

“Hey sailor.”


The nurse walked in, all smiles – which hid the true feelings she was feeling at the moment – before heading towards the foot of the bed to check his chart for the final time. “Today’s the day,” she said, sending another smile his way. “Check out time.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, nervously. “It’ll…it’ll be really different getting out.”

“Well,” she replied, placing the chart back and walking over to him. “I’m sure your friends will be there to straighten everything out.”


The two were silent for a moment, each taking a breath and coming to decision on what they needed to do.

“Penny, listen…”

“Fozzie, I….”

Nervous laughter followed.

“Ladies first.”

“I was just going to say,” she whispered. “I’ll miss seeing you on a daily basis.”

“Me too,” he said. “Do you wanna come to the show weekend? I mean, I probably won’t be performing, I mean I’ll try, but I’m sure that Kermit will say no, but just in case, do you? I can leave tickets for you and Frankie, unless you don’t wanna go, which is okay! You certainly don’t have to, but I’d like it if you did, but it’s okay if you’re busy and something. Though I’m really hoping that…”

“Fozzie!” she exclaimed, laughing at his ramblings and placing a finger on his lips to prevent him from saying more. “I really want to see you again.” Both bears’ eyes widened at the comment and the prospect of what it could mean.

“I mean,” Penny giggled. “I would love to go to the show this weekend. Wait, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean, I do! But…” Taking a deep breath, she started again. “I really want to go to the show this weekend and I’m sure Frankie would love to see it, too. And I’d love to see you again, so maybe…maybe we could go out for coffee or desert. I know how much you love your sweets.”

A comment both inappropriate and thus worthy of Gonzo quickly popped into the bear’s head, but he pushed it down, instead smiling honestly at the nurse. “It’s a date then,” he said, clearing his throat and preparing to change his answer, but then thought better of it.

“Yeah,” he nodded.


Thirty minutes later, after promising season tickets should Penny ever want to see the show at any time and after at least twenty minutes of filling out paperwork, Fozzie was finally ready to go, his face eagerly lighting up when it saw Kermit heading for him at the end of the hallway.

“Hey buddy,” the frog greeted, smiling at the greetings he received from the nurse’s station. “Ready to go?”

“Absolutely!” the bear said, settling more comfortably in the wheelchair they were making him use to get to the front door. Penny came from the other direction, carrying a set of crutches for him and stopped at the sight of the duo.

“Hi-ho Penny.”

“Hey Kermit,” the nurse replied. Looking down at her former charge, she asked, “All set?”

“You bet.”

The frog knew a moment when he saw one and while Fozzie may have protested that there was anything going on between the two – something Kermit knew a little something about – he wasn’t going to stand in the way, just in case.

“Hey Penny,” he began, walking behind the two so that he could push the wheelchair that the comic sat in. “I sure would appreciate the help in busting Fozzie out. You game?”

Sending a grateful and knowing smile at the Muppet leader, Penny nodded and clutched the crutches tightly in her hands. “What kind of nurse would I be if I didn’t make sure my patient left in a better condition than what he came in with?”

It was a lie of course, somewhat, but it did leave the excuse for Penny to walk the bear out and make sure that he left okay; it also gave her an opportunity to say goodbye, just in case he didn’t keep true to his word about the tickets.

Outside, the 80s robot was sitting patiently in the car, awaiting his next instructions from his master. Kermit and Penny helped Fozzie into a standing position and the frog gave the two some privacy under the guise of opening the door and putting the crutches into the car.

“And here we are.”


Again, an awkward silence descended upon them, something that been happening more and more since the nurse and her cub had visited. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a shyness that seemed to occur.

“Penny, can I call you?” The sentence was blurted out so suddenly that it startled both bears and the frog who was trying – and failing – to look as though he wasn’t paying any attention to what was happening. “I mean, in case…in case I need you. Something, I mean! Like…medically, that. That’s…you know.”

“I know.”

“Penny, you should come by and see the show sometime,” Kermit interjected, clearing his throat.

“Already invited her, Frog,” Fozzie replied. “Season passes, for any time she and Frankie want to come by.”

“I’ll let our stage manager know.”

“I should let you go,” Penny whispered. She waited a moment before grabbing the comic in a tight hug and kissing his cheek.


“We’ll be there,” she said. “See you later, Kermit.”

“See you Sunday, Penny.”

Penny gave one last wave to the comic and the director before heading back inside the hospital, a forlorn Fozzie looking lovingly after her. Kermit clapped him on the shoulder, murmuring, “Come on, let’s you off your leg and into the car.”

The drive from the hospital was a familiar one, as Fozzie recognized that he was heading to Kermit’s home in Beverly Hills. It made sense, when he thought about it – his apartment had stairs and no elevator, so there was no way he’d be getting around any time soon.

“I’ll be off the crutches in two weeks, Kermit.”

“I know,” the frog replied. “The doctor let me know when I came to check you out today.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You won’t be, buddy. Her royal highness and I agreed on it when you said you’d be getting released this week. No worries.”

Fozzie nodded before turning to look at Kermit. “Thanks, Kermit.”

“No problems.”

“Not just about letting me stay with you until the cast comes off,” he said. “About the other thing, too. That reporter and the stuff he was saying about me, about all of us.”

Kermit stiffened in his seat. They had tried since the first article to keep Fozzie and the accident out of the papers, so it was a complete shock that the bear was aware of what was happening. “You know about that?”

“Kermit,” Fozzie informed him. “I may not like bad news or anything that’s negative, but I was in a hospital with a ton of different people. Of course I’d hear about someone telling the world I was dead, especially when patients, doctors, and nurses came to check to make sure I was actually alive.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny the whole thing, but Kermit knew it was the worst thing that he could possibly do. He had done this once before, tried to bury a mistake that he had made and it had nearly destroyed them; it had destroyed him, if their separation was any indication.

“The long and short of it,” the leader began. “Is that it caught us all by surprise, but don’t worry. We’re handling it and by we, I mean Piggy.”

Fozzie couldn’t stop the breath that he sucked in at learning that. “It’ll get handled alright,” he said. “Right into a hospital room.”

“If the guy’s lucky,” the frog murmured. Patting Fozzie on his uninjured leg, he said, “Don’t worry about it, like I said. We’ll get to the bottom of this and get it resolved; your loyal fans are well aware that there’s nothing wrong with you and they’re eager to see you on Sunday, crutches and all.”

Fozzie smirked at him, turning to look out the window as they drove. He was happy in the knowledge that his friends were trying to take care of this, protect him, the way they always protected each other in the past. And he was happy that he would hopefully see Penny and Frankie at the show on Sunday and his fans, who apparently hadn’t believed a word of what horrible things had been written so far.

But he couldn’t help but be a little apprehensive. Like Kermit, the comic hated those types of magazines who went out of their way to try and hurt people; in the past, these types of articles and stories had been aimed at Kermit and Piggy, speculation on their relationship, romantic and otherwise. Fozzie hated what those stories had done, creating the kind of atmosphere that turned friends into enemies and could destroy relationships with one word.

In thinking about the power couple, the bear’s mind couldn’t help but turn to Penny. He didn’t want that kind of thing to happen to her, an innocent bystander that just happened to want to spend time with him outside of where they had initially met. Fozzie wasn’t a cold individual, nor did he ever have any malice in his heart for anyone, but at this point, he was really rooting for Piggy and whatever crazy scheme she had going to get back at this reporter guy.

The Count

Staff member
Jul 12, 2002
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Don't know why you're mad at me over in KG... But things to point out.

1 "Desert" with one "s" is the kind that has sand in it... "Dessert" with two "s"'s is for the sweets. This is one of the most common things I find when people try to write fics, so don't feel bad.
2 80's Robot waiting for his master in the car. Because he's from the 80's, I wonder if he goes into temporary "Sleep Mode" when not active.
3 Crutches are a bit tough to use, but managable. Looking back on it, using crutches is kind of similar to how I had to learn to use a cane... Tap to the right when you step forward with your left foot, tap to the left when you step forward with your right foot.
4 The fact the young cub is named Frankie... And Fozzie might become a future fixture for him... Excuse me if I start cracking with laughter at remembering some of Gabriel "Fluffy" Iglesias' routines tamed down with Fozzie doing the delivery instead. He certainly wouldn't get away with the bit about the kid's mother's friends if you know what I mean.
*Leaves chocolate cake for Gina before leading the druidic chant.
5 Good that Fozzie knows what's been going on... We want to know what's going on now too, especially Piggy's plan to pulverize the presses.

Thanks for posting.


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Mar 26, 2012
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Don't know why you're mad at me over in KG...
Cause you mentioned that I hadn't complained about not getting a KG update :stick_out_tongue: which, when you so nicely tell of them, of course I don't complain.

1 "Desert" with one "s" is the kind that has sand in it... "Dessert" with two "s"'s is for the sweets. This is one of the most common things I find when people try to write fics, so don't feel bad.
Blarg. And you know what, I make that mistake constantly.

3 Crutches are a bit tough to use, but managable. Looking back on it, using crutches is kind of similar to how I had to learn to use a cane... Tap to the right when you step forward with your left foot, tap to the left when you step forward with your right foot.
Believe me, I would rather have been on crutches for the month when I hurt my knee than the prospect of being in a wheelchair for three months like a friend of mine was.

4 The fact the young cub is named Frankie... And Fozzie might become a future fixture for him... Excuse me if I start cracking with laughter at remembering some of Gabriel "Fluffy" Iglesias' routines tamed down with Fozzie doing the delivery instead.
Well, now you've given me the idea cause I love Fluffy. Been waiting to get the entire thing of his last special cause I forgot to tape it.

*Leaves chocolate cake for Gina before leading the druidic chant.
Hmmm.....cake. One piece of cake is all I shall eat and the number of pieces of cake I'll eat will be one. Two will not be the number of pieces of cake, for the number of pieces of cake shall be one.

5 Good that Fozzie knows what's been going on... We want to know what's going on now too, especially Piggy's plan to pulverize the presses.
So this whole time, the plan was to keep Fozzie in the dark and he wouldn't know anything of what had been happening, but then the scene with Kermit popped into my head and I went, "Fozzie's a big boy. He should know what's happening." guys ready for a new chapter? Huh? Huh?

The Count

Staff member
Jul 12, 2002
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Again... Like Gabriel said to his little Frankie...

One piece? C'mon dude, it's a small cake, you can have the whole thing. And then his kid's entire face lit up like he had gotten a present from God, leading to the druidic chanting.

:insatiable: But why you keep getting cakes?
Because years ago I did a joke about how I really like cakes and now people leave them for me.
:laugh: You should do a joke where you say you like Transformers.

Nah... I'll just nag Gina for a new chapter of this nice fic instead. So, post more please? Now, give us fic, hurry!


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Mar 26, 2012
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And here ya go! A new chapter on a Monday! Shenanigans indeed!


There are no better schemers than those in the entertainment world. Oh, they may deny or huff or puff at the very idea that they are, but make no mistake – actors and musicians are all schemers. They need to be in order to make their contracts work, negotiate their working conditions and pay, as well as being able to make nice with people they didn’t want to work with.

If you worked in Hollywood, you schemed.

Miss Piggy, star of stage and screen, the leading lady for the Muppets, was a schemer and proud of it. It wasn’t to say that she enjoyed it – ok, maybe a little – and she certainly didn’t go out of her way to do it, but the diva wouldn’t be where she was if she didn’t use the gifts she had been blessed with. Piggy wasn’t naïve – she knew very well that she was a beautiful woman and had assets, front and back, that made her a mark to those that thought she had fluff in the head.

She knew exactly how to scheme her way into what she wanted and at this point in her career, she had gotten it down to a science. With help of course, practicing her whiles and ways on a certain frog director had honed the perfection to work the magic she held on others who didn’t know her as well as he did. On this day, a mere few hours before Muppet comic Fozzie Bear was to be released from the hospital, Piggy was putting into motion a plan that had come to them a few days ago.

After having her brunch ruined by a holy inaccurate and incriminating article from a disreputable reporter and those mongrels known as the Moopets, the diva and her cohorts had sat around trying to figure out how they get out of the mess that was certainly brewing. Kermit the Frog had been in meetings that whole day, trying his best to assure their backers and producers that this was a ridiculous article, something to get attention to a magazine that wasn’t yet established and the best way was to go with the story that hadn’t been mentioned yet.

The quintet had sat around, thinking up ways in which they could legally make the magazine stop with the articles and while there were ways, they would take a long time and it meant that the magazine could still put out articles until actually served with cease and desist letters.

Camilla Clücks, herself a schemer, had come up her own ideas that were just criminal; enjoyable, yes, entertaining beyond believe, most definitely, but ones that could land them in jail again and the others were sure that was something Kermit wanted to avoid at all costs.

It wasn’t until yesterday that the very idea they needed came from a somewhat unlikely source.

“So I have an idea,” he replied. “It’s dirty, underhanded, and sneaky.”

“I like it already.”

Scooter Grosse was also a schemer and an unassuming one at that. Scooter had used his name, or rather that of his uncle’s, to get what he wanted and once he had made a name for himself, he wasn’t opposed to using it to get what he needed or wanted. That skill, one that he had learned from his uncle, was just honed once he found a like-minded mentor to tutor him, rather he liked it or not.

The idea was somewhat simple – if the Rag Muffin was going to hold something over them, they would just need to get something to over the magazine. Yes, it was very much akin to blackmail – in fact, as Rowlf had pointed out, it was blackmail – but as the group had proven before, nothing was ever out of hand when it came to protecting one of their own.

It seemed fitting then, that Gonzo had popped in the theme to Mission: Impossible as the group drove out in a black company van and headed towards the offices of the Rag Muffin. Finding the offices for the Rag Muffin had been a hard task, as if the corporation was trying to hide itself, but as Scooter had so eloquently mentioned during brunch, it took a lot to be able to hide from the technical genius that was Scooter Grosse.

Their team consisted of five people – their getaway driver, Rowlf the Dog, who had been known to drive as any skilled hot rodder this side of the speedway when he was in a jam.

The demolition expert of the Great Gonzo, who knew more about explosives than they all probably wanted to admit or be party to. Gonzo was also a skilled stuntman, knowing how and when to take a fall, which would be great in case things got harrier than they wanted.

Along for the ride was the youngest member of this group, Robin the Frog, nephew to Kermit. He was designated as the sidekick, though the originating term had been ‘red shirt’ –

“Could we please go back to our Star Wars theme?” he complained. “I liked that much better.”

“That’s because I promoted you,” Scooter stated.

“Hey,” Robin protested. “I happen to like being a stage knight. Way more than being a red shirt; unless of course we’re talking about the original series and by red shirt you meant Engineering, because I am more than happy with that. Unless you were talking Next Generation, which then I’d be command…”

“The two of you are spending way too much time together,” Piggy had groused.

And speaking of the femme fatale, Miss Piggy was dolled up in the men in black look she, Scooter, and Robin had decided on once they had entered the building in order to speak with management. All three wore black business suits and shades, though Piggy had thrown in a black fedora because she could.

Of course, the ringleader of this whole escapade was Scooter Grosse himself, original planner of this idea that seemed too shaky to even worked and really hinged upon the fact that no one would recognize them or would be too stupid to do so. “Is this the place?” Robin asked, lowing his shades to view the abandoned building that they had pulled up to.

“Address is correct,” Scooter murmured, consulting his tablet and taking a look at the building as well. “Figures they’d be holed up in a hole in the wall.”

“Are you sure this is going to work?” asked Gonzo.

“No,” the page replied, honestly. “If anything, this should shake them up a bit and really, the important thing is that we get whatever kind of intel we can on them before they start starting more fires than we can put out.”

“You mean what Kermit can put out,” Piggy stated. “We aren’t leaving here until we get this straightened out, so either we come away with something or everyone inside goes away in an ambulance. So let’s get this party started.”


Carmine Rossi was your average security guard, trained to stay and protect the premises that he was hired to watch and like any security guard, Carmine did his job about 25% of the time. If it had been any other place, Carmine might have had to do rounds around the complex or make sure that the security cameras were working or even stop people from getting into the building that weren’t supposed to be there.

This was not any other place; this was the office of the Rag Muffin.

Why a third rate rag mag needed a security guard was anyone’s guess, but Carmine never looked a paycheck in the mouth. That was why he was sitting at a desk at the entrance, eating a bag of Skittles, watching the latest episode of the hit show Cover Me, Boss! when three persons unknown walked up and invaded his light.


“The manager around here?” asked the redhead.

“Who wants to know?” Carmine asked, obviously bored, not only in being there but having to actually speak for the first time that day.

“We do, that’s who,” said the frog.

“No one gets in here without authorization,” the guard said. “So take a hike.”

“We could tell you the same thing,” the pig said, crossing her arms. “In fact, a hike might do you good, should look into it.”

“What’re you, the pot?”

Scooter put his arm out, physically stopping Piggy from going after the guard. “Look,” he said, diplomatically. “We just need the head guy or management around here.”

“Authorization, I told you.”

“Well, we’re telling you you’re authorized,” replied Robin.

“Says who?”

“Says who!?” Scooter repeated. “Says who?” Pulling out the makeshift badge he had worked on the night before, he waved it quickly in front of the guard’s face, stating, “Says me, Eugene Hopkins. Shenanigan police. You’re in a lot of trouble, mister; we weren’t sure if there was anything going on, but clearly…”

“What, wait?” Carmine asked, taking the actual time to sit up straight. “I ain’t never heard of any shen…shen police.”

“Shenanigans,” Piggy corrected. “And we can clearly see that, from your complete and total disregard for the protection of this facility and the people within it.”

“Hey,” Carmine said. “I’m doing my job! This is nothing…”

“Nothing, he says,” Robin replied, looking at his other two cohorts. “Yeah, that’s what Carl Hospenffer said too, till he got that eye patch. ‘All fun and games’, he said.”

“That eye of his didn’t think so,” Piggy said.

“And it was a nice eye,” Scooter added.

“Well…well…how do I know you’re who you all say you are?” asked Carmine. He was beginning to sweat, truly wondering if his job was at stake and what exactly happened to this Carl guy’s eye.

The three Shenanigan officers looked at each other and then looked at the guard. “Do you really want us to make the call?” Scooter asked.


“Dude,” Robin whispered. “He seriously wants us to make the call.”

“He will not be happy about this,” Piggy sighed.

Scooter took out his phone and began to dial a number. To the outside world, especially for Carmine, it looked as though he was calling some hidden organization, whose top man didn’t have a name and was going to be horribly upset by the interruption that the security guard was doing when it came to their investigation.

To those involved, the phone call was actually going to a set up that was in a black van that was parked a ways down from the building where three of their number stood. Gonzo sat at this set up, cell phone in hand, and ready to play a recorded message from the president of the United States; a message that had been carefully put together – by Scooter – for this exact type of setup.

“Get me the president,” Scooter said, staring straight at the guard, whose eyes were now larger than his body. “Sir, I hate to disturb you but it’s Hopkins and we have a situation.” Scooter waited a moment, listening in to whatever Gonzo was going on about at that moment. “Yes sir, I tried to explain, but…yes sir, we did present our credentials, however the guard…Carmine…seems insistent on blocking our entry.”

Another moment passed before Scooter removed his shades and took a deep breath. “Yes sir.” Holding out the phone to Carmine, he continued with, “He’d like to talk to you.”

Carmine swallowed deeply, before outstretching his shaking hand to grab the phone in front of him. “Hello?” The guard listened for a few moments before he immediately saluted and said, “Yes sir! Thank you, thank you, Mr. President!” He quickly handed the phone back over to the redhead and began to wave them through. “Sorry about that! Security, you know. You’ll find the head guy at the top and I’ll let the others know you’re here!”

“Don’t worry about that,” Piggy interrupted. “We’ll find what we need.”

The trio walked past the guard and into the building proper, hearing the guard scrambling to get his desk in order should they come back. “I can’t believe that worked,” Robin whispered, once they were out of earshot.

“I can’t believe we actually had to make a recording of the president,” Piggy murmured.

“Told you it would come in handy,” Scooter retorted. “No one ever believes the genius.”

“Okay, Scootie-Wan,” Robin said. “Where to next? This building’s pretty big and what exactly are we looking for?”

“We’ll know it when we find it,” Scooter replied.

The trio managed to make their way to the middle of the building, where various people were typing away at whatever story they were currently making up. Almost immediately, Scooter’s technological senses were tingling with the very affront that these computers were running substandard and outdated operating systems and programs and he nearly recoiled when he saw the ancient printer that was being used in the center of the room.

“Don’t look now,” Piggy whispered, directing the others to the small group of people heading their way. “But the welcoming committee is heading our way, ten o’clock.”

“Welcome to the Rag Muffin,” said the man in the middle, a light green Muppet with a dark comb over. “I’m Horace Vanders, I understand you people are here from the government.”

“That’s right,” Piggy replied, stepping center stage like she had done a thousand times before. Lowering her shades slightly, she fixed the one called Horace with her baby blues and a slight smile. “Horace, was it? Think you could show a new girl around?”

As was to be expected, Horace puffed himself up, elated at the attention this beautiful agent was delivering on him and not his colleagues. Holding out an arm, he said, “It would be a pleasure, my lady. What is your heart’s desire?”

“Hold the brakes on that, Romeo,” Robin huffed. While he was aware that his aunt needed to put on a show, it didn’t mean he had to enjoy the attention she was getting; it was his duty as official nephew-to-be to make sure others kept their hands to themselves.

“Server room, Mr. Vanders,” Scooter replied. “Assuming the facility has one. I’m a little concerned at the substandard operation going on here.”

“Be nice to the man, Eugene,” Piggy cooed, removing her shades before putting her arm through that of Vanders’. “He’s only doing his job, aren’t you, Horace?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the Muppet sighed. “Just follow me to the egress.”

“Such a gentleman you are.”

The group tour went even more smoothly than the ‘government’ agents even thought it would; so enraptured with Piggy, the management trio hardly noticed that Scooter was conveniently copying files onto a thumb drive while Robin was checking and reading different files that were laying out around the cabinets.

The plan was going according to plan that it didn’t seem as though anything could go wrong.

As various Muppets and their cohorts are fond of saying, never say piece of cake in the labyrinth. The thought that this plan was a piece of cake and that they’d be out in no time was a thought shared by the trip of government officials, to the point that, when Greenly and Mufflin – who had been upstairs in the office – were made aware that a group of officials were in the building and nosing around.

From the top of the landing in which their offices sat, Greenly could easily see the ground floor and everyone there; his ears immediately heard the bubbly laugh of a female as it drifted from their makeshift server room, while his eyes show the group that was leaving it. He didn’t care who the three managers were, but he knew immediately who the lone diva pig was, even with the hat. He had heard enough of Miss Poogy’s moaning and griping in regards to her Muppet counterpart that he probably could’ve recognized her from anywhere.

“You looking for me?” he called out, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and to look up to see what was going on. The three Muppets didn’t know who the new person was, but they could tell it was someone they didn’t want to know. “Lance Greenly, at your service. I figure you have a bone to pick with me.”

The Count

Staff member
Jul 12, 2002
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Aw, and everything was going so well for the government agents. Okay, so they were caught by Greenly... I'm not worried though, they'll get out of this little setback. After all, what's the point of having a demolitions expert such as :concern: in toe if you're not going to make use of his artistic talents? Just hope Gonzo remembers to restock whatever supplies he "borrowed" from :crazy:.

Thanks for the good fic, needed a slice of that. :smile:


Well-Known Member
Mar 26, 2012
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I just worked up some Monday for you. And guess what? I'm starting 3 Ball.

In 3....2....1!


Well-Known Member
Mar 26, 2012
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Ok kids, this is it! This is the end chapter for our little story!

However don't think that we won't be seeing some of our characters again! And while this is the end of Accident, it's not the end of the Mondays; what's next then? Why, a Monday Return! And...if you're all good boys and girls, I may have a new Pool Hall story for you later today!


The walk to the second story of the warehouse was done in silence, angry silence. All parties involved knew this was going to be a showdown and they were doing nothing to hide that fact from anyone else in the building. As soon as Lance Greenly opened his mouth, the whole building went quiet, waiting and watching and wondering what exactly was going on today.

Greenly was smart; even though the unexpected arrival of a trio of Muppets had thrown him a little, he was well prepared to go into this meeting with both eyes open and that of his boss in the same room. He wasn’t sure how far he could get with this, but he was going to try his best to get as much information from these three as he possibly could. Said trio held their heads high and their eyes suspicious at this reporter who had dared tried to breach their tight little group, none of them saying a word until they had entered the office and the door closed behind them.

“Well, well,” replied Mufflelin, leaning back in his chair and observing the three. Being a gentleman, he gestured to the chairs that sat in front of his desk, raising an eyebrow when only the pig took the bait, sitting royaly in the chair as though he had just offered her the throne; the other two – a redhead and a frog – flanked her on either side, giving off the air that the pig was in charge and they were her loyal bodyguards.

“The infamous Miss Piggy, here in my office,” the boss continued. “It’s a pleasure.”

“I wish I could say the same, Mister…”

“Mufflelin,” the boss replied. “P.J., if you’d like. Who’re your friends?”

“The redhead is none other than Andrew Grosse,” Greenly spoke, his eyes staring directly at the young business Muppet and page.

“Oh,” Mufflelin said. “One of J.P.’s boys, huh?”

“You could say that,” Scooter said.

Nodding to the frog, the obvious younger of the group, Mufflelin asked, “What about you, kid? What’s your name?”

“Kid,” the frog replied, the only one of them who hadn’t bothered to remove his shades. “First name ‘The’.”

“Right,” Mufflelin chuckled. “So, what can I do you for?”

“I think you know why we’re here,” Piggy said.

“Corporate spying?” asked Greenly. “Seems kinda low for your group, doesn’t it?”

“If anyone knows low,” Scooter began. “It be you. You’re lucky we haven’t sued you, but rest assured, all it’ll take is one phone call…”

“Now hold on,” Mufflelin interrupted. “Let’s not get too crazy here. We were just doing our jobs, Grosse.”

“If you can call spreading lies and panic a job,” Piggy huffed. “If anything, we’ve been doing a harder job trying to circumvent the problems you and your articles have caused. I’ve never seen Kermit in so many meetings based on one issue before.”

“Come now, Miss Piggy,” Mufflelin started. “I’m sure your husband knows all about business…”

“Common knowledge holds that she and the frog aren’t married, Boss,” Greenly interrupted, smirking at the dangerous look the diva threw his way.

“Watch it,” growled the frog, his own eyes narrowing behind the shades he wore.

“Look,” Scooter responded. “We can sit around and banter or argue all day long, but we’re busy people with actual things to do, so how about we just land this little party plane on the ramp and discuss what the real issue is?”

Mufflelin gestured for the redhead to continue.

“It’s simple,” he continued. “You run a retraction about Fozzie’s death and I don’t sue your paper out of business.”
Greenly chuckled. “Those Moopets didn’t even scratch the surface, did they?” he groused. “You are a pretty cutthroat group.”

“We always look out for our own,” Piggy replied. “And I assure you, Mr. Greenly, Andrew here can be very persuasive when he wants and needs to be, so I would take his threat very seriously.”

“Hey hey,” Mufflelin said. “I don’t think we need to go so far as to suing each other.”

“And what exactly would you be suing us for?” asked Scooter.

“Breaking and entering, for one,” Greenly reported.

“You need better security then,” Robin huffed. “Cause your guy let us walk right in.”

“Two,” the reporter continued. “There’s the little matter of the information that you’ve stolen from us. Don’t act surprised; there’s no other reason for you to be here and make such a rouse if you weren’t down there poking around for stuff that doesn’t concern you.”

Having their bluff called, Scooter reluctantly removed the thumb drive he had used to copy files from the Rag Muffin servers and held it up for the others to view. “And just what were you planning to do with that?” Greenly asked.

“I call it insurance.”

Greenly huffed, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back against the desk. “I never would have pegged you Muppets for blackmailers,” he said. “So there’s truth that article after all.”

“And just who do you think our fans will believe?” Piggy countered. “We’ve proven to them time and again that we’ll work to the bone for them; what’ve you done lately?”

“We’ll do your retraction,” Mufflelin answered. “About your comic’s accident, but I’m afraid we can’t go against what others have said about you; you’d have to talk to the Moopets on that.”

“And I’m sure you have their number,” Greenly said.

“Just like we have yours,” the young frog shot back.

“No doubt.”

Scooter took one last look at his thumb drive before tossing it to Greenly, who managed to catch it with one hand.

“You’ll get your retraction tomorrow,” Mufflelin said. “Bright and early.”

“We’d better,” Scooter stated. Piggy stood and glared at the newspaper boss.

“Are we done here?”

“Sure thing,” Mufflelin replied, nodding cordially to her. “We don’t want to start a beef, do we?”

The diva replaced the shades back on her face, smirking at the two as she did, and made her way past Scooter and out the door, followed by her cohorts.

Greenly and Mufflelin watched as they left, waiting until they were the only two in the room before they dared to speak again. “I’ll give them this much,” the baron muttered. “They’re a lot tougher than you’d think for a bunch of fluff heads.”

“Are we really putting in a retraction?”

“You’re darned right we are,” Mufflelin griped. “I barely had enough to buy this dump, you think I have enough to counter a lawsuit? Sorry chum, but that story of yours needs to be buried.”

“But sir…”

“No buts, Greenly,” he insisted. “Granted, there’s nothing you can do about those Moopets, but we can at least save ourselves and retract that death story. And just to be on the safe side, let’s lay low on that follow up; no use making them angrier than they are now.”


Two days later

If there was one thing that Muppets were good at, it was throwing a party.

There never needed to be a reason for throwing a party, just as long as there was one for any occasion. And today’s occasion was the return of Fozzie Bear, comic extraordinaire.

The comic had finally been released from the hospital, cast and all, after a car accident that could have taken the bear out the comic world forever. It wasn’t just the fact that he was finally out and about, but that he was able to continue to be with them and in this universe for all time. The party was supposed to be a small get together, but of course, the Muppets never did anything small and this party was no exception; what should’ve been some friends coming over to the house in Beverly Hills, it turned into a pool party, with live music, food, and fun.

Fozzie was obviously happy with the party, as he always did love a good party, especially when there were sweets involved; everyone had gone out of their way to bring the bear whatever he wanted – cupcakes, cake, cookies, pieces of candy, etc. This also included drinks and other things, as everyone insisted that the bear not move, even though he was perfectly capable of using his crutches in order to move around, which he very much wanted to do. Not that he wasn’t enjoying being catered to, but he also was interested in whatever Kermit and Piggy were discussing in the kitchen.

And speaking of the pig and frog, they were discussing what exactly it was that Piggy told the reporters at the Rag Muffin.

“I’m not crazy about the method,” Kermit replied, moving around the kitchen and setting up a plate to take out to Fozzie. “But you always manage to get things done, despite the method.”

“As Gonzo would say,” Piggy said. “There’s madness to the method, Mon Cher.”

“So what exactly did you say to those guys?”

“It was mostly Scooter,” the diva said. “But essentially, he put the fear of our lawyers in their hearts and I put the fear of Moi in their hearts.”

“You are especially good at that.”

“Thank you for the compliment, however you intended it.”

“So do you think we’ll see those guys again?” the frog asked. “That they’ll…they’ll write about us again?”

Piggy stopped her own tasks to look at Kermit. “You know nothing’s ever a guarantee,” she whispered. “You taught me that. We can only hope that they’ll wise up when it comes to us, but it’s not a certainty.”

Kermit couldn’t help but smirk at her. “When did you get so smart?”

“Are you implying Moi wasn’t smart before?”

“Beauty and brains, darlin’”, he said, delivering a kiss to her cheek and handing her the plate for Fozzie. “That’s why I love you.”

“You get a reward later,” she replied, winking at him and heading out into the festive atmosphere that was her back patio. Spotting the comic sitting in a patio chair, the diva walked up to him and delivered the plate her frog had made him. “Special order, Bear.”

“Fries!” the bear exclaimed, eagerly taking the plate and popping a few of them into his mouth.

“Careful,” Piggy admonished. “Some of that is getting into your mouth.”

Fozzie replied to the jest as best as he could with his mouth full.


“Sorry,” he said, swallowing quickly. “Thanks for letting me stay here while I’ve got the cast on.”

“Well, Moi and the frog know that it was extremely difficult to tear yourself away from the hospital,” Piggy joked, causing a slight blush to appear on the bear’s face. “I take it we’re still in communication with the fair nurse Penny.”

The blush only seemed to get deeper, even as Fozzie looked away for a second, though he couldn’t stop the smile that slowly spread across his face. “She’s coming to the show Sunday.”

“We’ll have to do something special.”

“Hey Piggy?”


“Thanks,” he whispered. “For…you know, taking care of that reporter for me.”

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Kermit told you about that?”

“Well, he said that you were handling it,” Fozzie stated. “Which I took to mean you ‘handled it’ in such a way that we won’t be hearing from him again. I hope.”

“Yeah well…” Piggy began. “Things weren’t the same without you, kid.”

“Ah!” Fozzie said, shaking a finger at her. “That sounds like concern. You do like me!”

“I don’t like you,” she retorted. “Just used to you is all, no biggie.”

Piggy turned to walk away, but did give him a friendly pat on his uninjured leg as she passed. Fozzie smiled brightly, enjoying everyone that was around him, though he had to admit, he secretly wished he had invited Penny to this thing. He tried not to get too excited, but he was hoping that Sunday would come sooner than later, if just to see Penny and Frankie again; he wasn’t sure what would happen exactly, but he looked forward to it the way he did everything positive in his life.

He didn’t know if they would hear from that magazine again and he certainly hoped they wouldn’t but he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to think about his friends, his family, and Sunday night and for the moment, that’s all he needed to get through being on crutches and in a cast.

He just hoped that the things to come would be good.