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RedPiggy
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Leaving With a Smile…
Nine o’ clock in the morning and Central Park was filled to the brim with people and all different types of creatures. The place was divided into several sections within Sheep Meadow in the South End, which was a large fifteen acre stretch of grass bordered by trees. Sesame Street, in the northwest corner, maintained some nutritious snack pavilions and typical playground equipment such as slides, swings, and such. Their playgrounds also had ramps and tactile puzzles for those without the full range of senses and mobility. The Fraggle Rock area in the northeast consisted of several fabricated rock walls of varying difficulty, aboveground tunnels for greaseberry leaf-racing and stunts, and two rock hockey arenas (one for muppet and fraggle-sized visitors and one for taller visitors like humans adults and some monsters). Rock hockey was a unique blend of basketball, hockey, football, target practice … the rules were so complicated that for the most part it wasn’t necessary to worry about them. The important thing was to just have fun. In the southeast stood a circular arena filled with armor and weapons made out of Styrofoam (at the prolonged insistence of Kermit), with bleachers surrounding it. Candlewic, general of the goblins from the Goblin Kingdom, instructed visitors on basic goblin military strategy before they could practice against goblins or each other. Finally, the southwest corner, sponsored by the Muppet Theater, had a small stage for learning how various stunts were performed and an Epcot-like whirlwind tour of various types of sporting events, from biking on nearby paths to a skate park to a large fan for simulating skydiving.
In the center was a large circular wooden stage with lighting rigs suspended above it. As the morning wore on, the Electric Mayhem band set up their instruments and spoke with two visitors: a gangly Caucasian male with long curly brown hair and wild eyes, and a light blue Fraggle with a brown cap and a red scarf. They spent a few moments working out the details of how the duet would go and then took their places. The human male, wearing a cheap mockup of a biohazard suit (the helmet was made out of papier-mâché), tapped the microphone as the band started a slow, dramatic tune.
Sometimes I really want to be alone
But that's one state I'm never in
Because I know that I've got millions upon millions
Of tiny, one-celled organisms living on my skin.
The light blue Fraggle nodded, holding his own microphone as he sat atop a large speaker, singing:
They'll come from the east.
They'll come from the west.
They're coming to get you when you wake and when you rest.
The man nodded, his fake helmet nearly coming off. “Tell me about it, Boober, li’l buddy ….”
Boober shuddered. “Al, you’re the first Silly Creature I’ve met to be this knowledgeable about infection!” he announced cheerfully as he continued:
You know they're name is contagious.
Their number's outrageous.
They're wriggling and raging like worms.
And it wiggles and squirms.
I'm talkin' 'bout germs!
“Aren’t they awful?” Weird Al Yankovic gasped as both of them pretended to wipe themselves off wildly. “I mean,” he said, as they both sang together:
They're all over me
I can feel' em all over me
Over every part of me
Microscopic bacteria
I know they're watching me
They're always watching me
They're coming after me
Microscopic bacteria
Won't somebody help me
Please sombody help me
You've got to believe me
They're out to get me
They wanna control me
They wanna destroy me
They're tryin' to kill me
It kind of upsets me!
[song spliced from Weird Al’s “Germs” from Running with Scissors and Boober’s “Talkin’ Bout Germs” from Pebble Pox Blues[Fraggle Rock]]
<><><><><><>
Skeeter, wearing a navy blue biking helmet and joint pads, walked up to the aboveground tunnel in the Fraggle Rock section and watched for several minutes. She started to get in line, behind a group of slimy human children (for some, greaseberry juice was more amusing to wear than to use in sports), she heard someone excitedly calling out her name. She looked and the obese pink Fraggle with the unkempt brown hair ran towards her, his arms waving madly. When he finally got to her, he bent over to catch his breath, his short brown jacket starting to show some pitstains. “Hey, Skeeter,” he huffed and puffed, clutching his knees, “I saw you over at that ‘skate park’ thing and I wanted you to know that I think you are positively magical! I’ve never seen such aerial grace and beauty … the way you twirled that wheeled board on the edges, the way you hopped gracefully from rail to rail, the way you glided effortlessly across the ground --.”
Skeeter smiled and touched him on one shoulder. “Thanks, uh, Marvin, was it? I tried my best.” She nodded. “I’m sure with enough practice you can be athletic too.”
Large Marvin took a step back, staring at her confusedly. “Uh, I am an athlete?”
“Speed eating?” she replied with her eyelids in a droopy droll expression.
Marvin shook his head, still looking quite puzzled. “No, I am one of the top swimmers and splashers of Fraggle Rock. Only Red and Gobo can match me.” He grabbed her by the hand and started pulling. “Let’s go back to that place with the U-shaped platform you skated on. What is it called?”
“The half-pipe?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Marvin nodded enthusiastically. Skeeter nearly flew behind him as he dashed south toward the half-pipe. Marvin grabbed a board and wrapped his tail around it, skittered up the ladder to the deck of the half-pipe some 14 feet high, and waved to Skeeter down below on the ground, bowing graciously to the cheers and mutterings of the crowd.
Marvin stood atop the skateboard, moved it to the lip, holding one edge with his right hand, and gently pushed his front left foot down, making him zip down the ramp, up the other ramp, and back again. Marvin did this several times until he got used to the momentum and the sensation of speed and gravity. He wrapped his tail around the board again as he hopped back onto the deck, nodded with satisfaction, and announced cheerfully, “Okay, here I go!”
He gave a loud whoop as he careened down the ramp, nearly squatting against the board, waited until he reached the top of the opposite side, kicked the skateboard up ahead of him, twirled around to face downwards, grabbed the board with his tail, whipped it back underneath him just as he made contact with the transition part of the ramp (the curvy part), rode it with his belly against the board partially back up the first transition, stood as he started going back down, did a headstand at the bottom, and finally kickflipped it as it came to a stop. He panted a little as the crowed erupted into applause. Skeeter could see some money change hands in several places around the half-pipe, as well as camera-equipped cell phones capturing the event.
Marvin returned the board and walked over to Skeeter, whose eyes could not get any wider. He wiped off some sweat from his brow with his jacket. “So,” he asked with a tinge of exasperation, “do you think that was a good first time?”
Skeeter nodded like she was a zombie. “Th-that was your first time? You didn’t fall once.”
Marvin smirked, patting himself on his chest with one hand. “Of course … I have been told I have gazelle-like prowess!” he told her with a bragging tone. He winked. “There are certain advantages to having more mass than others, you know.” He looked down sheepishly, then he glanced back up at Skeeter with a hopeful tone. “Please don’t think of me as being fast, but … do you … do you want to … uh … hang out with me?”
Skeeter couldn’t breathe, she was so taken aback. When she at last remembered to inhale, she nodded and smiled, taking him by the hands. “Marvin, I would be honored to hang out with you.”
<><><><><><>
After locating a suitable spot, the palanquin had stopped to rest. Moulin stretched her legs as Junior sat down in front of the enchanted vehicle, rubbing a reddish paste into his fur. “What is that?” Moulin asked with a bored tone.
Junior looked down at her. Even sitting down, she was less than half his size. He shrugged. “It’s a wadish paste,” he replied. “Ma makes it fwom wadishes.”
“I gathered,” Moulin responded coldly.
“Well,” Junior offered with a hint of offense, “actually, I gathuh wadishes.”
Moulin glanced over at Jareth, who napped draped across the cab’s couch, snoring slightly. She crossed her arms in indignation. “I don’t see why we didn’t just follow those two humans to the Council,” she muttered bitterly.
“You mean Pwince Wobin da Bwave and Pwincess Melora?” Junior asked, putting away his radish cream. “I think Suh Hubwis said he wanted to go his own way.”
“Typical,” Moulin shot back. “Men are allergic to asking for directions. I think they actually prefer being lost.”
Junior stared at her. “You know, you’re not a vewwy nice person, Miss Moulin,” he commented dryly. He wagged a finger at her. “You haven’t smiled since we met.”
Moulin rolled her eyes. “Entertainment is for the masses. There’s no point in frivolity on business among equals … if you could be called that,” she added under her breath.
“You know what I think?” Junior egged on.
Moulin snorted in disgust. “Nothing compares to knowing what you think,” she replied sarcastically.
Junior pointed to himself. “I t’ink you’re upset because you’re Mommy died. I t’ink you haven’t wesolved personal issues wegarding her demise.” He began to sing an upbeat song:
I feel glad and you feel sad.
Just that kind of weather.
Nudge your nose and touch your toes.
Whoops! Feelin' better.
“Please don’t psychoanalyze me,” Moulin replied, glaring at the singing mound of fur. “Furthermore, do not mock me in song!” she growled.
Still, Junior continued, jumping up and dancing:
I say yes and you say no.
Who can say whichever?
Nudge your nose and touch your toes.
Whoops! Feelin' better.
Moulin watched as he continued to jump up and down, kicking and waving his arms and singing to the top of his lungs, bellowing out one verse after another, no matter how much she protested. She motioned for her cloud companion, ordering it quietly to soak the ground underneath the gigantic Gorg’s feet. Junior squealed as he fell flat on his back, rocking the ground beneath him and waking Jareth, who started swearing and demanding what in the Underground was going on.
Both Jareth and Junior, though, were shocked to see Moulin doubled over, laughing to the point of making her hoarse, tears streaming from her tightly-shut eyes.
<><><><><><>
Pa and Ma Gorg watched the roof intently as a large gray shiny box rose into view, sunlight glinting off its surface. They sat in front of their castle at the picnic table, sipping a fruit juice concoction handed down by Ma’s mother Queen Esmerelda. The sounds of drilling and pounding emanated the Gorg Kingdom, scaring birds and other creatures from their roosts.
“I still don’t know why we need this new-fangled equipment,” Pa groused to his wife. “We’ve lived for an eternity without such high-falutin’ concepts as ‘electricity’.”
Ma patted her husband on his hand and blinked lovingly. “Now, Pa, if that nice young man can clear up Junior’s sinuses and pump the water from the basement, then maybe it’s for the best.”
Pa shook his head and chomped down on a brownie. “It’s against nature! The sun can’t make lightning!” He gulped down another brownie. “And you can’t store lightning in a box. I don’t care what that meeping little critter says.”
“It’s ready!” Toby announced from atop the Gorg Castle roof with a megaphone. The two Gorgs walked into the castle and found a large mechanized fan in their bedroom and Junior’s bedroom, and a refrigerator with water from the basement piped into its back to cool food.
Eventually, Toby appeared, drenched in sweat, atop a windowsill where he had rappelled to from the roof. He smiled broadly as the two Gorgs approached curiously. “Well, there you go,” he announced proudly. “That’s all we could put in that can be powered easily from the solar cell we put on the roof, but these things should make life a little easier.” He pointed down. “Now, I don’t have anything that can get rid of the water in the basement … which is why I switched to the idea of pumping it to the refrigerator. It’s so cold down there that it should work.”
Ma glanced over at her husband who stood shaking his head. “Pa, what do you say?”
Pa grumbled.
“I don’t think that nice young man heard you, dear,” she growled, angrily putting her hands on her hips.
“I said, ‘Thanks for the help’, oh Loving and Patient Glint in my Eye,” he snapped back, rubbing his chin.
Toby smiled, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Well, you’re welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Gorg,” he said loudly so they could hear. “I hope you enjoy. If you need me, for anything at all ….”
Finis.
Nine o’ clock in the morning and Central Park was filled to the brim with people and all different types of creatures. The place was divided into several sections within Sheep Meadow in the South End, which was a large fifteen acre stretch of grass bordered by trees. Sesame Street, in the northwest corner, maintained some nutritious snack pavilions and typical playground equipment such as slides, swings, and such. Their playgrounds also had ramps and tactile puzzles for those without the full range of senses and mobility. The Fraggle Rock area in the northeast consisted of several fabricated rock walls of varying difficulty, aboveground tunnels for greaseberry leaf-racing and stunts, and two rock hockey arenas (one for muppet and fraggle-sized visitors and one for taller visitors like humans adults and some monsters). Rock hockey was a unique blend of basketball, hockey, football, target practice … the rules were so complicated that for the most part it wasn’t necessary to worry about them. The important thing was to just have fun. In the southeast stood a circular arena filled with armor and weapons made out of Styrofoam (at the prolonged insistence of Kermit), with bleachers surrounding it. Candlewic, general of the goblins from the Goblin Kingdom, instructed visitors on basic goblin military strategy before they could practice against goblins or each other. Finally, the southwest corner, sponsored by the Muppet Theater, had a small stage for learning how various stunts were performed and an Epcot-like whirlwind tour of various types of sporting events, from biking on nearby paths to a skate park to a large fan for simulating skydiving.
In the center was a large circular wooden stage with lighting rigs suspended above it. As the morning wore on, the Electric Mayhem band set up their instruments and spoke with two visitors: a gangly Caucasian male with long curly brown hair and wild eyes, and a light blue Fraggle with a brown cap and a red scarf. They spent a few moments working out the details of how the duet would go and then took their places. The human male, wearing a cheap mockup of a biohazard suit (the helmet was made out of papier-mâché), tapped the microphone as the band started a slow, dramatic tune.
Sometimes I really want to be alone
But that's one state I'm never in
Because I know that I've got millions upon millions
Of tiny, one-celled organisms living on my skin.
The light blue Fraggle nodded, holding his own microphone as he sat atop a large speaker, singing:
They'll come from the east.
They'll come from the west.
They're coming to get you when you wake and when you rest.
The man nodded, his fake helmet nearly coming off. “Tell me about it, Boober, li’l buddy ….”
Boober shuddered. “Al, you’re the first Silly Creature I’ve met to be this knowledgeable about infection!” he announced cheerfully as he continued:
You know they're name is contagious.
Their number's outrageous.
They're wriggling and raging like worms.
And it wiggles and squirms.
I'm talkin' 'bout germs!
“Aren’t they awful?” Weird Al Yankovic gasped as both of them pretended to wipe themselves off wildly. “I mean,” he said, as they both sang together:
They're all over me
I can feel' em all over me
Over every part of me
Microscopic bacteria
I know they're watching me
They're always watching me
They're coming after me
Microscopic bacteria
Won't somebody help me
Please sombody help me
You've got to believe me
They're out to get me
They wanna control me
They wanna destroy me
They're tryin' to kill me
It kind of upsets me!
[song spliced from Weird Al’s “Germs” from Running with Scissors and Boober’s “Talkin’ Bout Germs” from Pebble Pox Blues[Fraggle Rock]]
<><><><><><>
Skeeter, wearing a navy blue biking helmet and joint pads, walked up to the aboveground tunnel in the Fraggle Rock section and watched for several minutes. She started to get in line, behind a group of slimy human children (for some, greaseberry juice was more amusing to wear than to use in sports), she heard someone excitedly calling out her name. She looked and the obese pink Fraggle with the unkempt brown hair ran towards her, his arms waving madly. When he finally got to her, he bent over to catch his breath, his short brown jacket starting to show some pitstains. “Hey, Skeeter,” he huffed and puffed, clutching his knees, “I saw you over at that ‘skate park’ thing and I wanted you to know that I think you are positively magical! I’ve never seen such aerial grace and beauty … the way you twirled that wheeled board on the edges, the way you hopped gracefully from rail to rail, the way you glided effortlessly across the ground --.”
Skeeter smiled and touched him on one shoulder. “Thanks, uh, Marvin, was it? I tried my best.” She nodded. “I’m sure with enough practice you can be athletic too.”
Large Marvin took a step back, staring at her confusedly. “Uh, I am an athlete?”
“Speed eating?” she replied with her eyelids in a droopy droll expression.
Marvin shook his head, still looking quite puzzled. “No, I am one of the top swimmers and splashers of Fraggle Rock. Only Red and Gobo can match me.” He grabbed her by the hand and started pulling. “Let’s go back to that place with the U-shaped platform you skated on. What is it called?”
“The half-pipe?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Marvin nodded enthusiastically. Skeeter nearly flew behind him as he dashed south toward the half-pipe. Marvin grabbed a board and wrapped his tail around it, skittered up the ladder to the deck of the half-pipe some 14 feet high, and waved to Skeeter down below on the ground, bowing graciously to the cheers and mutterings of the crowd.
Marvin stood atop the skateboard, moved it to the lip, holding one edge with his right hand, and gently pushed his front left foot down, making him zip down the ramp, up the other ramp, and back again. Marvin did this several times until he got used to the momentum and the sensation of speed and gravity. He wrapped his tail around the board again as he hopped back onto the deck, nodded with satisfaction, and announced cheerfully, “Okay, here I go!”
He gave a loud whoop as he careened down the ramp, nearly squatting against the board, waited until he reached the top of the opposite side, kicked the skateboard up ahead of him, twirled around to face downwards, grabbed the board with his tail, whipped it back underneath him just as he made contact with the transition part of the ramp (the curvy part), rode it with his belly against the board partially back up the first transition, stood as he started going back down, did a headstand at the bottom, and finally kickflipped it as it came to a stop. He panted a little as the crowed erupted into applause. Skeeter could see some money change hands in several places around the half-pipe, as well as camera-equipped cell phones capturing the event.
Marvin returned the board and walked over to Skeeter, whose eyes could not get any wider. He wiped off some sweat from his brow with his jacket. “So,” he asked with a tinge of exasperation, “do you think that was a good first time?”
Skeeter nodded like she was a zombie. “Th-that was your first time? You didn’t fall once.”
Marvin smirked, patting himself on his chest with one hand. “Of course … I have been told I have gazelle-like prowess!” he told her with a bragging tone. He winked. “There are certain advantages to having more mass than others, you know.” He looked down sheepishly, then he glanced back up at Skeeter with a hopeful tone. “Please don’t think of me as being fast, but … do you … do you want to … uh … hang out with me?”
Skeeter couldn’t breathe, she was so taken aback. When she at last remembered to inhale, she nodded and smiled, taking him by the hands. “Marvin, I would be honored to hang out with you.”
<><><><><><>
After locating a suitable spot, the palanquin had stopped to rest. Moulin stretched her legs as Junior sat down in front of the enchanted vehicle, rubbing a reddish paste into his fur. “What is that?” Moulin asked with a bored tone.
Junior looked down at her. Even sitting down, she was less than half his size. He shrugged. “It’s a wadish paste,” he replied. “Ma makes it fwom wadishes.”
“I gathered,” Moulin responded coldly.
“Well,” Junior offered with a hint of offense, “actually, I gathuh wadishes.”
Moulin glanced over at Jareth, who napped draped across the cab’s couch, snoring slightly. She crossed her arms in indignation. “I don’t see why we didn’t just follow those two humans to the Council,” she muttered bitterly.
“You mean Pwince Wobin da Bwave and Pwincess Melora?” Junior asked, putting away his radish cream. “I think Suh Hubwis said he wanted to go his own way.”
“Typical,” Moulin shot back. “Men are allergic to asking for directions. I think they actually prefer being lost.”
Junior stared at her. “You know, you’re not a vewwy nice person, Miss Moulin,” he commented dryly. He wagged a finger at her. “You haven’t smiled since we met.”
Moulin rolled her eyes. “Entertainment is for the masses. There’s no point in frivolity on business among equals … if you could be called that,” she added under her breath.
“You know what I think?” Junior egged on.
Moulin snorted in disgust. “Nothing compares to knowing what you think,” she replied sarcastically.
Junior pointed to himself. “I t’ink you’re upset because you’re Mommy died. I t’ink you haven’t wesolved personal issues wegarding her demise.” He began to sing an upbeat song:
I feel glad and you feel sad.
Just that kind of weather.
Nudge your nose and touch your toes.
Whoops! Feelin' better.
“Please don’t psychoanalyze me,” Moulin replied, glaring at the singing mound of fur. “Furthermore, do not mock me in song!” she growled.
Still, Junior continued, jumping up and dancing:
I say yes and you say no.
Who can say whichever?
Nudge your nose and touch your toes.
Whoops! Feelin' better.
Moulin watched as he continued to jump up and down, kicking and waving his arms and singing to the top of his lungs, bellowing out one verse after another, no matter how much she protested. She motioned for her cloud companion, ordering it quietly to soak the ground underneath the gigantic Gorg’s feet. Junior squealed as he fell flat on his back, rocking the ground beneath him and waking Jareth, who started swearing and demanding what in the Underground was going on.
Both Jareth and Junior, though, were shocked to see Moulin doubled over, laughing to the point of making her hoarse, tears streaming from her tightly-shut eyes.
<><><><><><>
Pa and Ma Gorg watched the roof intently as a large gray shiny box rose into view, sunlight glinting off its surface. They sat in front of their castle at the picnic table, sipping a fruit juice concoction handed down by Ma’s mother Queen Esmerelda. The sounds of drilling and pounding emanated the Gorg Kingdom, scaring birds and other creatures from their roosts.
“I still don’t know why we need this new-fangled equipment,” Pa groused to his wife. “We’ve lived for an eternity without such high-falutin’ concepts as ‘electricity’.”
Ma patted her husband on his hand and blinked lovingly. “Now, Pa, if that nice young man can clear up Junior’s sinuses and pump the water from the basement, then maybe it’s for the best.”
Pa shook his head and chomped down on a brownie. “It’s against nature! The sun can’t make lightning!” He gulped down another brownie. “And you can’t store lightning in a box. I don’t care what that meeping little critter says.”
“It’s ready!” Toby announced from atop the Gorg Castle roof with a megaphone. The two Gorgs walked into the castle and found a large mechanized fan in their bedroom and Junior’s bedroom, and a refrigerator with water from the basement piped into its back to cool food.
Eventually, Toby appeared, drenched in sweat, atop a windowsill where he had rappelled to from the roof. He smiled broadly as the two Gorgs approached curiously. “Well, there you go,” he announced proudly. “That’s all we could put in that can be powered easily from the solar cell we put on the roof, but these things should make life a little easier.” He pointed down. “Now, I don’t have anything that can get rid of the water in the basement … which is why I switched to the idea of pumping it to the refrigerator. It’s so cold down there that it should work.”
Ma glanced over at her husband who stood shaking his head. “Pa, what do you say?”
Pa grumbled.
“I don’t think that nice young man heard you, dear,” she growled, angrily putting her hands on her hips.
“I said, ‘Thanks for the help’, oh Loving and Patient Glint in my Eye,” he snapped back, rubbing his chin.
Toby smiled, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Well, you’re welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Gorg,” he said loudly so they could hear. “I hope you enjoy. If you need me, for anything at all ….”
Finis.
.
. I was not sure if it was an official follow up, that is why I have never gotten around to reading it yet...
. The hype just killed any need I ever had to even remotely watch it:\ Even when I know all the canons I have a hard time reading crossovers because one or two of the worlds often don't mesh well for me :\. As far as putting fantasy worlds in I think I would be more for that, but then dragons/ sea monsters are canon in FR, and I have always been a fan of high fantasy lands...I wrote one for Labyrinth many years ago that has since been copied by many writers on FF.net 
If it makes you feel better, I never SAID he died. The Fraggles only assume so.