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Back to the Rock Season 2
Bear arrives on Disney+
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Author's Note: Dedicated as a celebratory chapter to our beloved aunt, hope this makes you smile.
Kermit's flippered footsteps trekked across the terrain, squelching the layering of mud coating the swamp's pathways. His mind was reflecting on past events, thinking that he was right, "why would time want to learn to fly?" "Must be getting you to your favorite season."
New Year's 2012: After extending well wishes on a happy 2012 to Anderson Cooper, he'd mentioned he promised Piggy they'd go out to party. But of course it turned into a typical scene when the rest of the gang unintentionally yet well-meaningly sort of invited themselves along. "This happens every time," Kermit thought while riding inside the Mayhem's bus, arms around Piggy's waist.
Three Kings Day: He'd helped collect grass from the yard. He'd helped fill the box. He'd tucked it beneath the child's bed. He'd watched with quasi-parental joy at the excitement when that one extra Christmas present had been revealed. Kermit participated in these last vestages he'd get to spend with Robin before the younger frog returned to schooling under Kathy's care. The uncle couldn't tell which budding relationship his nephew would pursue—the rambunctious goat girl from soccer camp or the pretty froggette they'd first met at the playground years before. "Mmm, he's young still…plenty of time for off-again on-again stops-and-starts in his life with more than one girl." He couldn't help reminiscing over his own bumps in the courtship department with a certain pig.
Valentine's Day: That hadn't gone as well as he had hoped. Oh sure, he got her chocolates and flowers and thought he'd be able to appease her wrath. And then that phone had to have rung. Last minute arrangements were negotiated—strenuously, or with whatever strength he could muster—flipping over to deal with a brazen king prawn harrassing all the ladies in their household.
"Hi am a king prawn okay! Hi was chust looking for loves okay! Is not my fault if they says 'oo Pepe, I am als alones on Valentimes, come over for a little smoo…'" Whatever he would have said got cut off thanks to a swift karate chop that had long past its simmering state. Attempts to calm down the diva were fraught with fragility for the rest of the night. And what was that thumping coming from the ceiling?
Mardi Gras went by in a blur, was it really two weeks ago? The Muppets split up into separate floats driven down the streets of Hensonville, cheering heard from all those lining the pavement. And then last week the Academy Awards ceremony. Yeah, it stunk they didn't get to perform (at the actual ceremony), but all their hard work the past years had finally been rewarded when Mr. Mackenzie stepped up to accept the statuette for their musical efforts. Music was something the Muppets always did well, it came naturally to them as Walter blurted in that montage they'd decided to keep—silly as it may have appeared.
As for this very moment, the frog approached his destination. It was a comfortable private little grotto-styled sheltering his parents had set up for him and the missus. A network of vines served as drawing curtains for further intimacy, manipulated by reeling reeds sprouting from the sides. He hummed a little tune as he settled the armload of parcels on the slate shelf jutting out from the grotto's walls, doubling as a makeshift countertop table. Her velvety ear heard his humming first, her snout detected the aromas afterwards. "Kermie, is that vous?" "Um-hum," he replied. She eyed the non-descript boxes warily, unsure of their contents. "You did pick up what I asked for? Moi means, how do I put this delicately, it's not your food by any chance?" Piggy had reason to suspect the edibles, Kermit had on occasion (few and far between) slipped her a morsel of mealworms into her considerably refined diet. "Don't worry Piggy, it's everything you requested." How could he deny her on her birthday? "Besides, Mom "can" make "normal" food for picky eaters if she has to." Sensing she was being tweaked, she let out a low grunt signaling the frog had better watch it—he definitely intended to watch it, and her—before the first box yielded several mini egg rolls. Moving through the meal, both frog and pig munched happily, stealing casual glances, culminating in Piggy's happy squeal at the fluffy coconut cake. Kermit searched for the candle tucked in the box's corner. Finding it, he quickly plucked a passing firefly to light the wick. A stray firefly wasn't that unusual at this time since evening was approaching at its own languid pace here in the swamplands.
About an hour or so later found the contented couple near one of the marsh's many inlaid pools. Cleanup at the conclusion of their dinner was a breeze—literally—always an alligator handy for garbage disposal when you needed one. Piggy, having learned from her previous foray into her frogman's furnishings, wore a simple dress more suited for shoreside sunbathing matched by white gloves and open-toed heeled scuffs she could trust to assist her in slogging her way on this turf. The stars were now just beginning to dot the clarion canopy above their heads. Kermit thought she looked lovely tonight, putting the surrounding lilies to shame. Having brought his banjo, he absently plucked a few notes by and by. She was faintly aware of the tune, distracted thanks to her own dreamy thoughts. "Kermie, what's that you're playing?" "My banjo," he answered quietly, with a hint of good-natured snark. "Moi knows," she retorted coolly. "Moi meant what song are you playing?" "Oh, it's just something I kind of remember." "Is it one Moi remembers too?" "Well, yes," he hedged. "It's from…" he hesitated for a moment. "Kermie," she said sweetly, "just sing, for me."
He cleared his throat, then began earnestly as a few frogs ribbeted backup from the low-lying bushes.
"I feel so bad, I've got a worried mind.
I'm so lonesome all the time.
Since I left my baby behind.
On Blue Bayou."
To say Piggy recognized the song would have been a grave understatement. She swallowed her pride, letting Kermit continue his late-night crooning.
"Saving nickels, saving dimes.
Working till the sun don't shine.
Looking forward to happier times.
On Blue Bayou."
Yes, that had been a particularly rough episode of the show. Kermit wasn't the only little green devil during that week's performances.
Kermit ploughed on with the chorus, raising his voice's intensity as the melody demanded.
"I'm going back some day.
Come what may.
To Blue Bayou.
Where the folks are fine.
Where the world is mine.
On Blue Bayou.
Where those fishing boats.
With their sails afloat.
If I could only see.
That familiar sunrise.
To sleepy eyes.
How happy I'd be."
His gaze strayed over to his girl, that lopsided grin on his face, attempting to reach out to her during the instrumental bridge readying himself for the last verse. His singing dropped back to that softer smoothness from earlier that made Piggy's heart flutter.
"Gonna be with some of my friends.
Gonna see my baby again.
Maybe I'll be better again.
On Blue Bayou."
Knowing the final chorus was coming, Kermit belted it out, quick to change the original lyrics as he'd rehearsed.
"I'm going back some day.
Come what may.
To Blue Bayou.
Where the folks are fine.
Where the world is mine.
On Blue Bayou.
Got that girl of mine by my side.
The Silver moon and the evening tide.
Oh some sweet day.
Gonna take away.
This hurting inside.
Well, I'll never be blue.
My dream's come true.
On Bluuuuuue By-yooooooooou!"
Piggy's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Kermie," she tried to say, almost braking down. "Yes?" he asked, putting the banjo down on the banks beside her, his slim hand on her shoulder. She wrapped her frog in a fierce gentle hug not wanting to let go until he understood she was sorry. Sorry for locking him in that trunk. Sorry for not letting him have his own little crushes while she unabashedly flirted with every male co-star. Sorry for pushing him away from her. But despite or in spite of it all, she did not regret all the obstacles they had overcome, finally secure in sharing their feelings for one another. Marriage tends to do that, if you're lucky. The kiss she gave him afterwards had been the icing on the cake—figuratively—she couldn't think of a better present than spending it with her caring husband.
Author's Note: Dedicated as a celebratory chapter to our beloved aunt, hope this makes you smile.
Kermit's flippered footsteps trekked across the terrain, squelching the layering of mud coating the swamp's pathways. His mind was reflecting on past events, thinking that he was right, "why would time want to learn to fly?" "Must be getting you to your favorite season."
New Year's 2012: After extending well wishes on a happy 2012 to Anderson Cooper, he'd mentioned he promised Piggy they'd go out to party. But of course it turned into a typical scene when the rest of the gang unintentionally yet well-meaningly sort of invited themselves along. "This happens every time," Kermit thought while riding inside the Mayhem's bus, arms around Piggy's waist.
Three Kings Day: He'd helped collect grass from the yard. He'd helped fill the box. He'd tucked it beneath the child's bed. He'd watched with quasi-parental joy at the excitement when that one extra Christmas present had been revealed. Kermit participated in these last vestages he'd get to spend with Robin before the younger frog returned to schooling under Kathy's care. The uncle couldn't tell which budding relationship his nephew would pursue—the rambunctious goat girl from soccer camp or the pretty froggette they'd first met at the playground years before. "Mmm, he's young still…plenty of time for off-again on-again stops-and-starts in his life with more than one girl." He couldn't help reminiscing over his own bumps in the courtship department with a certain pig.
Valentine's Day: That hadn't gone as well as he had hoped. Oh sure, he got her chocolates and flowers and thought he'd be able to appease her wrath. And then that phone had to have rung. Last minute arrangements were negotiated—strenuously, or with whatever strength he could muster—flipping over to deal with a brazen king prawn harrassing all the ladies in their household.
"Hi am a king prawn okay! Hi was chust looking for loves okay! Is not my fault if they says 'oo Pepe, I am als alones on Valentimes, come over for a little smoo…'" Whatever he would have said got cut off thanks to a swift karate chop that had long past its simmering state. Attempts to calm down the diva were fraught with fragility for the rest of the night. And what was that thumping coming from the ceiling?
Mardi Gras went by in a blur, was it really two weeks ago? The Muppets split up into separate floats driven down the streets of Hensonville, cheering heard from all those lining the pavement. And then last week the Academy Awards ceremony. Yeah, it stunk they didn't get to perform (at the actual ceremony), but all their hard work the past years had finally been rewarded when Mr. Mackenzie stepped up to accept the statuette for their musical efforts. Music was something the Muppets always did well, it came naturally to them as Walter blurted in that montage they'd decided to keep—silly as it may have appeared.
As for this very moment, the frog approached his destination. It was a comfortable private little grotto-styled sheltering his parents had set up for him and the missus. A network of vines served as drawing curtains for further intimacy, manipulated by reeling reeds sprouting from the sides. He hummed a little tune as he settled the armload of parcels on the slate shelf jutting out from the grotto's walls, doubling as a makeshift countertop table. Her velvety ear heard his humming first, her snout detected the aromas afterwards. "Kermie, is that vous?" "Um-hum," he replied. She eyed the non-descript boxes warily, unsure of their contents. "You did pick up what I asked for? Moi means, how do I put this delicately, it's not your food by any chance?" Piggy had reason to suspect the edibles, Kermit had on occasion (few and far between) slipped her a morsel of mealworms into her considerably refined diet. "Don't worry Piggy, it's everything you requested." How could he deny her on her birthday? "Besides, Mom "can" make "normal" food for picky eaters if she has to." Sensing she was being tweaked, she let out a low grunt signaling the frog had better watch it—he definitely intended to watch it, and her—before the first box yielded several mini egg rolls. Moving through the meal, both frog and pig munched happily, stealing casual glances, culminating in Piggy's happy squeal at the fluffy coconut cake. Kermit searched for the candle tucked in the box's corner. Finding it, he quickly plucked a passing firefly to light the wick. A stray firefly wasn't that unusual at this time since evening was approaching at its own languid pace here in the swamplands.
About an hour or so later found the contented couple near one of the marsh's many inlaid pools. Cleanup at the conclusion of their dinner was a breeze—literally—always an alligator handy for garbage disposal when you needed one. Piggy, having learned from her previous foray into her frogman's furnishings, wore a simple dress more suited for shoreside sunbathing matched by white gloves and open-toed heeled scuffs she could trust to assist her in slogging her way on this turf. The stars were now just beginning to dot the clarion canopy above their heads. Kermit thought she looked lovely tonight, putting the surrounding lilies to shame. Having brought his banjo, he absently plucked a few notes by and by. She was faintly aware of the tune, distracted thanks to her own dreamy thoughts. "Kermie, what's that you're playing?" "My banjo," he answered quietly, with a hint of good-natured snark. "Moi knows," she retorted coolly. "Moi meant what song are you playing?" "Oh, it's just something I kind of remember." "Is it one Moi remembers too?" "Well, yes," he hedged. "It's from…" he hesitated for a moment. "Kermie," she said sweetly, "just sing, for me."
He cleared his throat, then began earnestly as a few frogs ribbeted backup from the low-lying bushes.
"I feel so bad, I've got a worried mind.
I'm so lonesome all the time.
Since I left my baby behind.
On Blue Bayou."
To say Piggy recognized the song would have been a grave understatement. She swallowed her pride, letting Kermit continue his late-night crooning.
"Saving nickels, saving dimes.
Working till the sun don't shine.
Looking forward to happier times.
On Blue Bayou."
Yes, that had been a particularly rough episode of the show. Kermit wasn't the only little green devil during that week's performances.
Kermit ploughed on with the chorus, raising his voice's intensity as the melody demanded.
"I'm going back some day.
Come what may.
To Blue Bayou.
Where the folks are fine.
Where the world is mine.
On Blue Bayou.
Where those fishing boats.
With their sails afloat.
If I could only see.
That familiar sunrise.
To sleepy eyes.
How happy I'd be."
His gaze strayed over to his girl, that lopsided grin on his face, attempting to reach out to her during the instrumental bridge readying himself for the last verse. His singing dropped back to that softer smoothness from earlier that made Piggy's heart flutter.
"Gonna be with some of my friends.
Gonna see my baby again.
Maybe I'll be better again.
On Blue Bayou."
Knowing the final chorus was coming, Kermit belted it out, quick to change the original lyrics as he'd rehearsed.
"I'm going back some day.
Come what may.
To Blue Bayou.
Where the folks are fine.
Where the world is mine.
On Blue Bayou.
Got that girl of mine by my side.
The Silver moon and the evening tide.
Oh some sweet day.
Gonna take away.
This hurting inside.
Well, I'll never be blue.
My dream's come true.
On Bluuuuuue By-yooooooooou!"
Piggy's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Kermie," she tried to say, almost braking down. "Yes?" he asked, putting the banjo down on the banks beside her, his slim hand on her shoulder. She wrapped her frog in a fierce gentle hug not wanting to let go until he understood she was sorry. Sorry for locking him in that trunk. Sorry for not letting him have his own little crushes while she unabashedly flirted with every male co-star. Sorry for pushing him away from her. But despite or in spite of it all, she did not regret all the obstacles they had overcome, finally secure in sharing their feelings for one another. Marriage tends to do that, if you're lucky. The kiss she gave him afterwards had been the icing on the cake—figuratively—she couldn't think of a better present than spending it with her caring husband.
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