AlittleMayhem's Muppet Drabbles

[AlittleMayhem]

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Rooibos? See, I always took Newsie for a black-coffee kinda guy. But this was a sweet little piece. Nice to see I'm not the only one who wants him to have a happy ending!

Eh, the bush tea was more of a shameless reference to the No.1 Ladies Detective Agency series. I didn't know it had a name . And the story may have been inspired by a certain someone...

I LOVED your bit with the Doctor and Bunsen. Absolutely brilliant! But what, no fez? Fezzes are cool. I could totally see the good doctor -- er, that is, our favorite mad scientist -- trying to "fix" things for that poor absentminded fellow...

Thank you! It's not my favourite as I wrote it in a rush, but I'm happy you like it! Fezzes are cool, can't believe I forgot that! Maybe Bunsen *ahem* "took it home as a souvenir."

My only nitpick: There are almost no elms left in the US, due to Dutch Elm disease decades ago. Sam's reaction to it all was perfect!

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: Humph! You pathetic, weird British writer! You have no idea what have talking about when it comes to great, true American trees!

Hey, you didn't know that either, Sam! Otherwise you would've put the story on hold right there and then!

:.....

 

[AlittleMayhem]

Halloween Traditions or lack of​

Guest-starring Muppet OC, Gary!​

Next to Beauregard, Scooter was usually the last one left in the Muppet Theatre. Most of the time, it was working on last minute bill payments and time-consuming, yet necessary paperwork for Kermit. Tonight, it was answering Miss Piggy’s fan-mail and typing up an e-mail to Craig Ferguson, requesting him to appear in the next show.

Usually Beauregard pottered about with chores, so Scooter was mostly left on his own. Tonight, however, he brought company.

“Okay, how about this one?”

Scooter looked up just as an open sketchpad thrust into his face, not for the first time that night. He took it and viewed it properly. It was obvious from the askew lines, untidy colouring and pencil smudges that it was just a rough sketch, but Scooter was impressed by how detailed and exact the fire exit looked. Even the colours matched perfectly, an achievement considering Scooter could only find children’s crayons from Bobby Benson’s room.

“It’s great, Gary. It looks exactly the same as real life.”

Gary, grinned impishly. “I thought so,” he said, smugly. He was a humanoid-like person about Scooter’s height with untidy blonde hair. He usually wore sunglasses, even inside, which didn’t bother Scooter as a few of the Muppets did that too.

Scooter chuckled, sealing the last of the envelopes and packing away his laptop. “Well, that’s me for tonight,” he said. “Let’s head.”

Beauregard, who was passing by with a mop on his shoulder, turned to them, confused. “What’s wrong with my head?”

Gary bellowed excessively with laugher, clapping Beauregard on the back. “Ah, you crack me up, Beau!” he exclaimed, then thundered down the steps to the exit.

“Oh, um, you’re welcome?” Beau said, puzzled. Scooter shook his head and patted him reassuringly.

“Goodnight, Beau. See ya later,” he said and followed Gary.

Ever since Scooter began studying Theatre Arts at the local university, Gary was the first to befriend him. He was an art student studying there who originally from South Africa, made clear by his distinctive accent. An excitable individual with a hint of a mad glint behind his shades, he would’ve fitted well with the rest of the Muppets, if it weren’t for his artwork (his “true calling” as he liked to call it). He was one of those people who could not sit still for a millisecond, which was why Scooter got him to explore the theatre and do some sketches while he worked. Gary had taken the challenge as eagerly as a five-year-old.

They walked through the dark streets, with Gary talking animatedly about the different medias he used in his modules while Scooter listened patiently with his hands in his pockets. It slightly baffled him how Gary could contain so much energy, but it also intrigued him.

They passed several houses and shops, decorated to the max with glowing ghosts, ghoulies, skeletons, cobwebs, craved pumpkins, and many other oddities that were only acceptable once a year. Some especially over-the-top ones caught Gary’s attention, enough for him to stop and stare. Scooter, noticing the sudden quiet, looked over.

“Gary? Is there something wrong?” he asked.

“Naw, I’m fine. It’s just…” he paused. “Wow, you guys really take Halloween seriously!”

Scooter smirked. “Of course we do! We don’t get many holidays here, and when they come, boy, do we go all out!”

Gary turned to him. His mouth turned in a sceptical manner. “But it’s three weeks away, and look at this!”

He threw his arms toward a house, whose decretives had gone on a more original route. A giant purple spider hung from the top left window. Next to it, two mean eyes with spiral pupils rested on the roof of the porch, with pointy teeth stuck on the top and bottom, giving the impression that the house had turned into a Muppet Monster.

“Hey, I think that’s Peter’s house!” Scooter said.

“Who?”

“He’s a friend of Walter’s. Anyway, I thought you were into creative stuff, Mister Art Student!”

“I am! It’s just, it seems a bit much. Besides, I’m not really used to Halloween decorations back home.”

It took a second for Scooter to realise what Gary just said. “Wha- Gary? Are you saying that you don’t celebrate Halloween?!”

Gary shrugged. “Not really. We get the occasional costume party, but it’s not really a big deal in South Africa. I remember this one time when some kids tried to make it a thing, but it didn’t work- Hey, Scoot! You okay?”

Scooter had been gaping at him for a few seconds. He then recovered and put an arm around Gary’s shoulder.

“Gary, you have much to learn and we only have three weeks! Get a pen and listen closely!” he said, in an utterly business-like tone.

They continued the trek home, the roles now switched, with Scooter talking extensively about Halloween Traditions and costumes ideas while Gary listened closely, making notes.



AN: I have too many Muppet OCs! The ones you have seen in all my fics are barely even half of ‘em! And, yes, Peter Linz really did decorate his house like that! Happy Halloween, whatever background you have!

 

[newsmanfan]

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Monster House! Love it.

Gary, the South African Muppet?

Do I hear vuvuzelas?
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[AlittleMayhem]

Thankful Heart​

​

The taxi pulled up at the sound of her distinctively piercing whistle, just as her cell phone rang.

​

“M’rello?”​

Skeeter paused, tapping her foot and listening to the other end, frowning.

“Oh, you again. Look, I have the list here in my hand with everything ticked off! What? The heck is that supposed to mean? Uh-huh. Yes, I checked everything with a pen, unless you scribbled all over the list before you gave it to me! Hey, don’t be so touchy! It’s not my fault you forgot to do your Christmas shopping, nerd!”

She continued to argue down the phone as the driver, a turtle in a cap, loaded the mountain of colourful boxes and bags into the taxi in a painstakingly slow manner. The first snowflakes of the night were carried swiftly by the cold wind, blowing astray her plaid scarf and orange dreadlocks. She tucked the dreads behind her ear, ignoring the glares from passing shoppers. Scooter had given her a particularly long list of presents, most of which were taking up the sidewalk. It didn’t help that it was Christmas Eve and the streets were full of people who, like Scooter, had left present shopping at the last minute.

“Yes, I got Fozzie’s Stewart Francis DVD, Lew’s fish-patterned paper towels, Walter’s suit, Floyd’s guitar pick and Gonzo’s chicken pin-up calendar. I got everything. I repeat, ev-ry-thing! What? Miss Piggy? Oh, no I couldn’t get that new perfume. I was already over budget. Calm down, I just bagged a fluffy blanket. It’s more practical at this time of year. Believe me, when I spent last Christmas in the Artic, a snuggie was the best luxury I had. Urgh, I know we’re not in the North Pole, stupid! Well, I don’t care if you get broken ribs for life, she’ll get her present and like it! Look, I gotta go! I’m causing a traffic jam here. Bye!”

​

Skeeter hung up and began helping the turtle with the load. Geez, you come back from the Amazon for one little break…

Eventually, after some shoving of presents, diverting of traffic, yelling at the turtle to hurry it up and throwing insults to any complaining pedestrians, all was calmer and there was one present left. Skeeter picked up the bag containing Miss Piggy’s blanket and let out a hefty sigh. She had dealt with booby trap filled temples less stressful than this. Now, she was ready to return to the Boarding House where the spare mattress in Scooter’s room was calling to her.

The turtle, though slow, was gentlemanly and opened the door to the passenger seat for her. Skeeter nodded her thanks and set her foot in.

“Spare change, sir? God bless.”

The voice was deep and rough around the edges, though warm and friendly like a Christmas fire. It caught Skeeter’s ear and she turned around, surprised to see it was from the least likely person.

A beggar, dressed in a tattered jacket and old jeans, sat on some steps with his hands stretched out in alms.

She watched him shiver and ask anyone who walked near him for money only to be silently dejected for a few seconds, then turned back to the monster pile of presents tied down to the taxi. In an instant, Skeeter felt a pang of guilt in the pit her stomach. Suddenly her stress-filled day didn’t seem so bad.

She addressed the turtle, “Sorry, could you wait here for a sec? Thanks.” Without waiting for an answer, Skeeter sped off towards the beggar. “Hey, you on the steps!”

He looked up in surprise. “Er, yes?”

Butterflies flitted around inside her, but she didn’t hesitate. She held up the bag, trying to ignore the cheap liquor scent he wafted.

“Here, I figured you’ll need this more than I do. Sorry it’s pink.”

After a slight awkward hesitation, the beggar took the bag and pulled out the fuzzy material in awe. For a moment, he was gobsmacked. “I- thank you!” he gasped. “I haven’t received any kindness like this in years.”

Trying not to show that she was blushing, Skeeter dug out her pockets and dropped a few quarters at his feet. “Yeah, well, this is Christmas after all.”

He wrapped the blanket around himself, looked very strange in hot pink but very happy. “I can’t thank you enough, miss.” he said, grinning. “God bless and Merry Christmas.”

Relieved, Skeeter smiled back. “Yeah, you too.”

With that, she walked back to the awaiting cab and waved goodbye. On the way back home, she rested her head against the window, watching the lights whizz by with a somewhat warm contentment replacing her previous guilt. For the first time in her life, it felt like a real Christmas.

Now, she just hoped Miss Piggy would forgive Scooter for not getting her a present…

 

[charlietheowl]

What a nice deed for Skeeter to do! I'm sure after being calmed down enough Piggy would understand. Maybe.

 

[MissMusical12]

Awww, this was such a heartwarming one. Awesome job!

 

[AlittleMayhem]

Apologises to James Corden and Ruth Jones for kinda ripping of a scene from Gavin and Stacey but...I had to.

 

[AlittleMayhem]

The Diva (it's not the pig)​

​

"Alright, then. That's three lamb Kormas-"

"But I wanted a Vindaloo!"

"Not now, Robin. Ten Bhunas and eight Jalfrezis, both vegetarian-"

"Nine!

"Sorry, Rowlf. Nine Jalfrezis, eleven Sag Loos-"

"Hey, Kermit? Camilla's wondering if they come with a side order of chicken feed?"

"Erm, I don't think so Gonzo but I could ask. Now where was I?"

"Hey, boss! I called the JugHuggers and they all want beef Madras. Sweetums and Thog are still stuck in traffic but they said they want Pasandas. I'm still waiting on a reply from Lips, but my friend Gary just texted. He wants a Vindeloo. "

Kermit's face scrunched up at the thought of Scooter's crazy artist friend on Vindaloo, but wrote down the additions nonetheless.

"Good grief. Ok, all those and three dozen popadoms, naan breads and bowls of rice. Sound good to everyone?"

"That's great, Kermit!"

"Thank you, Kermie dear!"

"Right on!"

"What, only three dozen?"

"Are the ingredients, like, organic?"

"Mee mee moo murry!"

"Why can't I have a Vindaloo?"

"Kermit, must we go for Indian? I'm sure the pizza place is more American.

Kermit ignored any last minute complaints and called for quiet in the packed living room. "Okay, everyone quiet! Now apart from Lips, is there anyone we've forgotten about?"

"Hey, what's goin' on in here!"

Gonzo jumped when Rizzo seemingly popped out of nowhere. "Rizzo! Where've you been, buddy?"

"Ah, I had a date but that possum chick stood me up so left early. Anyways, what's everyone doin' in here? Where's dinner? I'm starved!"

"Mmm, no dinner tonight Ritzo!" Pepe explained. "The oven broke down again, ho'kay?"

"Urgh, great. So we'll just use the microwave, no problem!"

"No can do, Rizzo." Kermit added as he checked over the list of orders for the tenth time. "It tried to eat Beaker and we had to get Animal to chase it away." He narrowed his eyes at the rat. "Also, a certain group of rodents cleaned out the kitchen last night and now we have no food."

Rizzo huffed. "Ain't my fault my folks gotta eat!"

"I've asked Skeeter to go shopping tomorrow, ("Humph!" Skeeter grumped) but for tonight, we're ordering a takeaway from the new Indian. Apparently the owner is a cousin of a friend of the Newsman."

Kermit paused and glanced over to the Newsman, who was sitting squished between the Mutations. "Assuming he's not as destructive as your friend, right?"

The Newsman grunted in discomfort. "I never made any such promise."

Kermit sighed and turned back to Rizzo. "So is there anything-"

"Beef Bhuna, lamb Dupiaza, prawn Phaal, egg-fried rice, portion of fries and ten popadoms!" Rizzo cut in without hesitation.

"Sheesh. Okay and we're just gonna lay it out on the table so everyone can-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Rizzo exclaimed, suddenly offended. "Who said anything about sharing, huh?!"

"Well-"

"Why is it every time we do take out, no-one never just eats their own food that they ordered themselves? Why do we have to share?!"

"Erm, because it's nice." Walter pointed out. Rizzo rounded on him.

"Nice?! Nice?! No, it is not nice! You wanna know why? Because I guarantee that three people have ordered a Korma, am I wrong Kermit?"

"No, Rizzo you're not. But-"

"Exactamondo! And if you ask me, Kormas are stupid! I won't touch 'em. But I already know that Zoot's wanting my Dipiaza already, right Zoot?"

Rizzo then scurried over to the already taken aback Zoot and jumped on his chest, grabbing his shirt and looking him straight in the shades.

"Have you even thought about my Dipiaza?" he said in a low voice.

Zoot gulped. "Er, yeah."

"But it's my Dipiaza!" Rizzo cried, dramatically throwing his hands in the air. "That's why I ordered it! It's like when I went to the pizza place with the folks and everyone's dipping into my pasta and saying, 'Oh Rizzo, your pasta is soo good!' YES! I KNOW IT IS BECAUSE IT'S MY PASTA!"

Gonzo walked over, lifted Rizzo off Zoot and set him to the ground. He put a hand his shoulder. "Hey, calm down buddy-"

"No, I've had it!" Rizzo screeched, slapping Gonzo's hand away. "In fact, I'm out! Forget about me! I'm ordering my own!"

With that said, Rizzo stormed out of the living room. Everyone was so deathly quiet after his outburst that a few people jumped when Scooter's phone bleeped.

"Oh, that's Lips! He wants a veggie Patia."

Just then, Rizzo popped his head back in the room. "I wanna Patia too, Kermit!"

 

[Twisted Tails]

Hey LittleMayhem, good ta have ya back pal. I LOVE this drabble and you are so good at writting Rizzo. I also liked when he changed his mind about ordering himself out for dinner. DANG! I can't believe Gonzo told his best buddy to chill out. Whew! Boy, i'm getting kinda hungry myself.

 

[AlittleMayhem]

Stay​

Linda was leaving.

She came home one afternoon with Barkley’s favourite treats. They were very nice treats, very sweet and sugary just the way he liked them. He hoped she would bring more. Oh, yes, that would be very nice!

Barkley munched on them happily and when he was done, Linda went over to him and hugged him close. Barkley yapped happily and nuzzled Linda’s neck, licking her face and sniffing her scent. She laughed, the only sound she ever made and it was a good sound.

Yes, Barkley loved Linda and he was sure that she loved him.

However, something wasn’t right. Barkley pulled away slightly and cocked his head to one side. She was defiantly smiling, there was no denying that, but there was sadness in her eyes. Why would she be sad? Barkley was here and she had him. They were friends. There was no reason to be sad.

Then Linda removed her hands from Barkley’s fur and explained to him that she had to leave Sesame Street. Leave New York, leave people like Bob and Maria and Susan and Alan, and leave others like Telly, Bert, Ernie, Elmo, Big Bird, Oscar, and Cookie Monster.

Barkley’s ears had drooped at the news. That was sad, leaving and not seeing your friends again. But they would be okay, just the two of them. Right?

As if she knew what he was thinking (of course she did, Linda always knew what he was thinking), her smile vanished and she looked very sad.

I’m sorry, she had signed. You can’t come with me. You have to stay.

Barkley’s tail stopped wagging then. What? Stay? Why stay? Why go when he can’t go? Was he too big? This wasn’t because he ate all the dog treats last week, was it? Or maybe she was punishing him for playing too rough with Elmo yesterday? He didn’t mean to push him that hard.

What did he do? Didn’t she love him?

Barkly hadn’t realised he hunched in on himself until Linda’s small hands gently stroked the fur on his muzzle, titled his head up to look at him. She was smiling again, but tears where beginning to form, not yet spilling over.

“It’s not about you,” she said and Barkly’s ears prinked up in shock, because she actually said it. Out loud. From her mouth. Her words sounded funny compared to the others, as if she was speaking with her mouth full, but she was defiantly speaking.

“It’s just me. I have to leave.”

She then explained, with her hands this time, why she had to leave, where she was going, promising to write, why Barkly couldn’t go with her, that he would stay with Bob from now on…

But it didn’t matter. Linda was leaving, and she was not coming back.

He whined low and buried his head into Linda’s shoulder. His paw reached out and pulled her closer to him, her small frame fitting against his own large body. He focused on her scent, her arms around him, clutching his fur, the warmth of her body.

He tried to ignore the tears dampening his shoulder and the quiet sobs close to his ear. He especially tried to ignore the little voice at the back of his head, begging and pining,

Please stay.
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I'm sorry, I have a lot of feelings, ok? I might do a follow-up soon, but it depends on when the writing bug will bite again.