Chapter Nine
Needless to say, Spamela, with her pin-up perfect porcine physic, was not accustomed to receiving such a lack-luster response from a predominantly male audience. Her arms dropped to her sides. “Well, what’s wrong?” she asked as she forlornly looked around the room.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
“Ah-ha! Beakie! You have a broken heart,” Dr. Honeydew said as he reset the device in his hand, which bore a striking resemblance to a pink radar gun.
Beaker shook his head. “Me?” he said, pointing to himself.
“What in da woild is d’at?” Rizzo asked, staring at the thing that had beeped.
“Oh!” Bunsen chuckled. “I am so glad you asked. This is our latest invention,” he said, displaying it in his hands. “The Muppet Labs Broken Heart Detector! The simplest way to determine if someone is heartbroken. Simply point the Detector at the person—“ he pointed it at Beaker again— “And pull the trigger. If it beeps, that person has a broken heart!” He pulled the trigger.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
“So you see? Beaker has a broken heart.” Bunsen lowered the Detector and put a hand on Beaker’s shoulder. “Did your girlfriend leave you, Beakie?” he asked, his voice sympathetic.
Pepe picked his head up. “She’s available?”
“MO!” Beaker cried. He waved the king prawn back. “Mee me mee mee memo moo mo!”
“Oh, poor Beaker!” Spamela said, slipping through the room to press against the lab assistant and wrap her arms around him as soothingly as she could. “How terrible for you…”
“Yeah, sure, terrible,” Rizzo muttered, and he turned to Pepe. “How come he gets all da girls?”
“Is de hair, hokay,” Pepe said, taking a comb to his own red tuft as Beaker put some sort of effort into separating himself from Spamela’s comfort.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
“Why, Miss Hamderson!” Bunsen exclaimed. “You have a broken heart, too!”
She gasped. “I do?” She looked forlornly at her ample chest and cupped her hands over her heart. “But—Why is it broken?”
“Oh-ho, the Detector doesn’t say that,” Bunsen explained.
“Spamela! Spamela,” Pepe said, scurrying to her side. “We can fix d’is, hokay! I know de perfect cure for a broken heart.”
“Oh!” Spamela perked up. “Will you help me, please, Peepee?”
“Pepe. My name is Pepe,” the king prawn corrected. “And si, si, I will help jou. De cure is… Jou find someone new, hokay. Someone, kind. Someone, tender. Someone—who is like Pepe, hokay.”
“Ohhh,” Spamela said. “Well, where can I find someone like that?”
Rizzo pushed himself forward. “Right here!” he said. “Hey, t’anks for da setup, Pepe.”
“No-no-no!” Pepe said quickly, trying to push Rizzo back. “Spamela, listen. Why would jou take de cheap imitation of Pepe—“ he gave Rizzo an extra shove— “When jou can have de real me, hokay.”
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
“Oh—Pepe, Rizzo!” Bunsen said. “One of you has a broken heart.”
The rat and the king prawn looked at each other, and then at the scientist. “Which one?” Rizzo asked.
“Well, I don’t know. You moved,” Bunsen said simply. “Here, let’s try it again. One at a time…” He pointed the Muppet Labs Broken Heart Detector at Pepe and pulled the trigger.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Rizzo laughed. “The prawn cracker loses!” he said triumphantly. “Now Spamela, listen—“
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Hol’ jour horses hokay,” Pepe said, regathering the attention. “Just because de Muppin-Laps-Broken-Heart-Detectives says I have a broken heart… Does not mean, dat Ritzo is not heartbrokens hokay.”
“An excellent point!” Bunsen said. “Rizzo—“ He pointed the Detector at the rat and pulled the trigger.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Pepe laughed, pointing at Rizzo, and then turned to Spamela. “So, Spamela. As jour fellow brokenhearted… Le’s go mend our hearts together, hokay.”
“But—what about Rizzo?” Spamela asked, putting a sympathetic hand on Rizzo’s shoulder. “Won’t he be lonely?”
“No-no-no! He needs, ah—He needs some solitudes, okay,” Pepe said quickly.
“I do not,” Rizzo said indignantly, and he reached for Spamela’s hand. “I need some company…”
“Si but h’I need it more!” Pepe said.
“Then why don’t the three of us do something together?” Spamela suggested.
Rat and king prawn looked at her, and then at each other. “…Ohhhhh,” they both said, grinning as they started to laugh.
“I like dis, hokay!”
“Sharing is caring! Heha!”
Fozzie had lost interest in all of this some time ago and returned his attention to the drizzling rain outside. He had watched as another taxicab had pulled up to the curb in front of the Muppet Boarding House. No one had gotten out, and he had wondered if perhaps the driver was lost. Now the trunk opened, followed by the back door. Miss Piggy came bolting out, charging across the lawn, entirely heedless of the puddles she splashed through. She was clutching a pale yellow blanket to her chest, shielding it from the rain.
“It is a baby!” the bear declared. “I think.”
“What is?” Scooter asked, looking at him.
“The person Piggy’s bringing,” Fozzie said. “She’s—“
The front door burst open again, bringing in cool air and another damp, blonde pig. She kicked the door shut and wiped her feet, straightening up as she carefully adjusted the yellow blanket in her arms. “I need someone to bring my things inside and up to my room,” she distractedly announced.
“Sure thing, Piggy!” Scooter said, snapping to his feet.
“Can’t ya do it yourself?” Johnny Fiama asked, reaching for a canola from the plate Sal was holding.
Miss Piggy glared at him. “A piglet can’t make it’s own body heat for at least two weeks. She is one week old. I am not putting her down and I’m not bringing her back out in the rain,” she irritably explained, holding her bundle all the more protectively.
“Come on, guys,” Scooter prompted, scooting to the door.
“Yeah, Sal, go help bring her stuff in,” Johnny said.
“Sure, Johnny.” Sal put the tray down and followed Scooter and a few others outside.
“Thank you,” Miss Piggy said distractedly as she turned to trudge up the stairs. The bundle in her arms began to squirm a little, making tiny squeaks. “Sh-sh-shh. I know, I know, just a few more minutes,” she murmured soothingly to the squeaking bundle. “You’ve been very patient, I know…”
The Muppets watched her go, and then looked at each other. Once again, as the only one in the room who could do so, Floyd blinked. “…Well… She’s back,” he said.
Zoot picked his head up. “Who is?”
“Miss Piggy.”
“…Oh.” Zoot looked around and shrugged, settling back in. “Anti-climatic.”
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Christmas Music
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Sam and Friends Book
Great update Lisa - don't leave us hanging here - now that she's back, gotta find out what happens next!
<ahem> <begins work on next chapter>
