The Presidio Tennis Club was built in the mid-1930s and saw the crème de la crème of stars and starlets of Hollywood’s golden age. Originally a one-story country club with access to six tennis courts, the Presidio had undergone several renovations to update its look and membership for the modern age; it was now a sprawling 34,000 square foot clubhouse that spanned four acres of land.
The clubhouse itself boasted three new workout rooms with state of the cardio machines, new weight rooms, and even a new Pilates studio, complete with renovated locker rooms with new showers. The main floor showcased a new staircase that led up to an upstairs dinning hall and event area, which then led to the rooftop patio. The second floor also revamped its bar area, which offered an accompanying poolside bar next to the 25-meter lap pool behind the clubhouse.
As it was the Presidio Tennis Club, there were nine full sized courts, along with a full tennis coaching staff for adult, children, and group lessons, plus the ability to create tennis matches.
For the celebrity charity bachelor auction, the Presidio had staged it within the large banquet hall on the second floor, with a brief mixer taking place on the roof top patio beforehand. Per Piggy’s instructions, Kermit – along with Fozzie and Gonzo – had arrived a little before lunch on the second floor and were almost immediately accosted by a multitude of women who either knew or didn’t know them.
“What is happening right now?” Fozzie questioned, looking around them in a panic.
“I don’t know,” Gonzo replied. “But I’m about 82% sure that Rita Moreno just groped me.”
Seeing the pig responsible for getting them into this, Kermit quickly got her attention as she came down the stairs from the roof. “Piggy!”
“Hey!” she exclaimed, throwing an arm around both the frog and the bear. “It’s my two favorite Muppets. And Gonzo.”
“Thanks for including me, babe.”
“Piggy,” Kermit hissed, looking around the room. “What the heck is going on?”
“Oh!” the diva replied, though it was more of a shout than actual statement. “So…keep an eye on your wallets, so to speak. There’s this 2 for 1 daquiri special going on upstairs and I think…everyone used it to their advantage.”
“Not you, though,” Fozzie said, positively, only to have the diva smirk at him.
“Are you kidding?” she chuckled. “It’s a daquiri, man. Those things are delicious. Anyway, come on come on come on.”
It was clear that Piggy, though not nearly as hyped up as some of the other women within the hall, had obviously taken advantage of the two for one special, so her insistent “come on”s sound more like hurried “c’mon”s as she ushered them to a table near the front of a slightly raised platform that would act as the event stage.
It was a short stage, allowing for a backstage area that was surrounded with a large curtain. It was from there that Scooter poked his head out, desperate to get the attention of the others without anyone noticing. It didn’t work of course because as soon as Piggy saw him, she loudly yelled, “Hey look! There’s Scooter! Hi!”
The assistant made a grimace before looking around to see if anyone heard that. Thankfully, most seemed to be distracted by whatever else and that whatever wasn’t him. The diva none the less snapped to bring his attention back to her, whispering some last-minute instructions. “Lick your lips. Smile. There’s my boy!”
Smiling nervously, Scooter hissed, “Kermit, can I see you for a moment, please?” before ducking back behind the curtain.
“I…uh…guess I’ll be right back.”
Kermit made his way towards the backstage area, where a number of the ‘bachelors’ were standing around, waiting for the event to start. It was less celebrity and more additional behind the scenes support to those celebrities, though the frog noticed that there a few local celebrities, such as radio hosts Big Mac McCarthy and Rosie Marquez and television actor Mikey McGee.
Scooter was easy to find – the young ward was dressed stylishly in a three-piece red fitted suit that matched his hair color. The dress shirt was a black low collar that didn’t need a tie and matched the slick polished black leather dress shoes. Scooter had decided to go without the jacket, leaving him with just the four button vest that hovered over a belt with a large gold buckle.
His familiar mop top had been styled into a stylish faux hawk, surprising the frog at the page’s new look. “You clean up pretty good, Scooter,” he said, nodding to the outfit choice.
For the first since Piggy had talked him into this, Scooter smiled. “Really?” he asked. “Wasn’t sure about the hair style, but…that’s actually neither here or there.” Pointing towards the curtain, he asked, “What is going on out there? I’ve heard nothing but…literal hooting and hollering.”
“Yeah…” Kermit said, grimacing slightly. “Apparently there was a two for one drink special before this upstairs and it seems that…well, they’re all a bit rowdy.”
“A bit rowdy?” Scooter asked, sarcastically. “That’s like saying you’re a bit green. Oh my god.” The younger Muppet sighed, running a hand over his face. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind. Kermit, I can’t do this. I don’t want to be a sex object anymore!”
“Gee, buddy,” Kermit said, a look of sympathy on his face. “I wanna get you out of this, but short of trying to shuffle you past the crowd out there, I don’t think there’s anything I can do.”
“Actually…” the page said, grabbing the frog by the arm and leading towards the curtain. Opening it partway, the two stared out into the crowd of women. Pointing slightly to a Whatnot who was, ironically enough, sitting behind Kermit’s own table, Scooter said, “That’s Margaret Petersen.”
The Whatnot was peach in color, though more on the pinkish side of the spectrum, with long wavy brunette locks flowing around her shoulders. Getting a glimpse of Scooter, she smiled devilishly his way. “She’s a talent agent who happens to work with a few of our guests,” he explained. “And unfortunately, she has a crush on me and no matter how much I’ve tried to make it clear to her – short of having a plane fly overhead with a banner – she’s not taking no for an answer.”
At seeing Scooter, Petersen immediately took out a large roll of cash and began to count it, causing the red head to panic. “Oh crud,” he whispered. “Look at how much money she has! She’s going to buy me, Kermit! You can not let this happen! My life and weekend are in your hands!”
Despite the melodramaticness of it, the frog could see the prospect of being ‘bought’ by this Petersen person weighed heavy on the shoulders of his assistant producer. Assuring him he’d take care of it, Kermit left the worried page while he went back to his own table. The others had already sat down, leaving the empty chair for him, though he noted Piggy opted not to sit next to him. He tried to brush it off – obviously Piggy wanted to be at angle to see Scooter, her pet project for this thing, though why Fozzie and Gonzo decided not take leave the chair next to her – the one the comic sat in – empty, he didn’t know.
The group sat through three bachelors, including TV star Mikey McGee, who went for a cool five hundred dollars. As they watched, Gonzo noticed with a strange observance that they were currently the only male beings in that room and he said as much to the rest of the table.
“Full disclosure,” Piggy whispered, roughly. “Moi wasn’t sure if we’d be short on bachelors, so…just in case…”
“Completely underhanded, but I see your point,” Gonzo said. “Well, if there is a shortage and -” taking a look around the room, the writer thought there was a distinct possibility. “You need a sacrificial Muppet, so to speak, I nominate Kermit. You could totally get a high price for him.”
“Hey, that’s a good idea!” Fozzie agreed. “Who wouldn’t want to take Kermit out on a date?”
“Right?” Piggy asked. “Everyone loves him!”
“Sitting right here,” grumbled the frog. “In case you forgot. And I don’t want to be bought.”
“Aw, why not?” Piggy pouted. “We could totally get a good price for you. I mean, we should drive Scooter’s price up, cause you know…that’s end game, but Moi would not be opposed to you being the second highest priced guy here.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you.”
Finally, thankfully, Scooter’s name was called, causing the room to break out into yelling and whistling, even from Gonzo and Piggy once they saw the page’s attire. “Next up is Andrew Grosse, assistant producer for Up Late with Miss Piggy.”
As taught by his evil overlord, Scooter did his thing on the runway, walking with the confidence Piggy had told him to have. The trick, she had told him, was to believe that not only were people there to see you, but that you would be winning the competition. Despite the fact that this wasn’t a competition, per se, but the very notion that Scooter could walk away from this event not just helping out charities he cared about but bringing home more money than anyone else did spark his competitive streak.
Now, with a room full of seemingly man hungry women, full of liquor and apparently flush full of cash, the assistant was completely rethinking this idea; the prospect of being bought was suddenly more daunting, especially with Margret ‘The Predator’ Petersen just waiting to get her hands on him.
“Besides being the assistant for Up Late,” the hostess continued once Scooter made his way back to stand next to her. “Andrew is also a former employee of the Google engineering team and has even done a TED Talk. I would sure like to see him give an oral report.” Looking at her notes, the hostess asked, “What does that mean?”
Not getting an answer, the hostess continued with the event. “Your night with Andrew will consist of dinner for two, cooked by our very own Chef Marquez, right in your own home. We’ll start the bidding at one hundred dollars.”
Petersen made the first move. “One hundred dollars!”
“150!” shouted another.
“200 dollars!” Petersen cried.
“I certainly wouldn’t buy him,” Kermit piped up. “Those glasses are too large for his face.”
Everyone at the table looked at him. “Kermit!” Fozzie hissed, shocked by the frog’s comment.
“225!” shouted another.
“250!”
“I mean,” Kermit continued. “Look at that bottom. It’s completely flat.”
Piggy leaned over to look at him. “What is wrong with you!?”
“280!”
“300!”
Standing quickly, Kermit shouted, “325!”
“375!” cried Petersen, standing as well and hurrying to stand next to the frog.
“400!”
“450!” Petersen shouted. Turning to glare at Kermit, she asked, “I thought you said his butt was flat.”
“500!” Kermit countered. “I like ‘em flat,” he retorted. “The flatter the better.”
“525!” Petersen continued.
“575!”
Kermit turned to his left, seeing Gonzo standing next to him. The writer shrugged. “Figured we’re doing this for Scooter,” he said. “Besides, you’re kinda playing this on the weak side; you need to up the ante.”
“600!” Petersen called.
Scooter waited for one or both of his friends to raise up the price, but Kermit was adamant about not going any higher than five hundred dollars and Gonzo was stopping at five seventy-five. “Six hundred dollars,” the hostess repeated. “Going once…”
“Six hundred dollars!?” Piggy protested, leaning back in her chair in a huff. “That’s it?”
“Piggy, keep your voice down,” Kermit chastised, taking his seat again along with Gonzo.
“Come on, Piggy,” Fozzie said. “Calm down. Six hundred is a lot money.”
“Look, we know you coached you and you were expecting a higher amount,” Kermit replied. “But Fozzie’s right. And this is for charity after all and that six hundred dollars will do a lot of good.”
“Six hundred going twice…”
“Besides,” Gonzo asked. “How much were you expecting him to go for?”
“Well, at least a thousand!”
“Sold!” the hostess replied. “To that lovely pig right there for one thousand dollars.”
Petersen huffed in annoyance, turning from the front and muttering about preferential treatment among Muppet members. Scooter of course was thrilled, giving the diva two thumbs up for saving him from who knows what or who. For those at the table, the end result was rather stunning.
“And like the hands of tempered fate,” Kermit mumbled. “Once again this partnership does not bode well for me.”
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