"Muppets Now" premieres on Disney+
The Muppets fifth series of all time debuted on Disney+. Make plans to watch one of the most anticipated shows of the year. New episodes premiere every Friday through September 4.
50 Years and Counting
Read our review and discuss with fans the highly anticipated
Sesame Street "50 Years and Counting" DVD set from Shout Factory featuring over five hours of beloved moments.
50 Years and Still Sunny!
Read fan reactions and let us know your thoughts on the all-new Sesame Street documentary "50 Years and Still Sunny!" hosted by Gloria Estefan.
The Dark Crystal: "Age of Resistance"
After a 36 year wait, return to the great conjunction. The Dark Crystal "Age of Resistance" is a mesmerizing and beautiful prequel series now on Netflix. Renew your essence today.
Music is Everywhere
Muppet Central Radio is now on TorontoCast, TuneIn, Apple, Amazon and Google. Listen to Muppet music 24/7 wherever you go with TuneIn and Apple apps and devices.
“Mr. The Frog, I can assure you that we will do everything in our power—“ Kermit held up one slim green hand. Not for nothing had he worked for years on Sesame Street with children and monsters, and he knew how to invoke the parental sign for “Stop talking now. I’ve heard enough.” He took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said, trying and almost succeeding in not sounded snappish and snarky. “I understand. You’ll look for it. You’ll call me if you find it.” He stopped and pressed his froggy lips together to keep from saying…something. “Actually, you’ll have to call my house, or call Scooter Grosse, my personal assistant, who made the arrangements because I don’t have a phone. Do you have those numbers?” The airline employee, a diminutive brunette, nodded mutely, eyes wide. “Good,” said Kermit. He took a deep breath. “I’m going home,” he said, desperate for the sounds and smells and comforts of his own abode. He took two steps toward the exit and stopped, sighed and came back to the desk. “But I need a ride. I have no phone, no briefcase, no wallet and no car. Can someone call me a cab?” “Right away, Mr. The Frog,” whispered the woman. “I’m so sorry about…everything.” Kermit was really a very tenderhearted frog. “It’s—I know it’s not your fault. Sometimes—no matter what you do—things are not going to turn out the way you planned.” “It’s true! I know you’ve had a tough day, and you’ve been really nice about it.” She smiled timidly. “And I really like your insurance.” Kermit sighed as she started to dial.
“Sorry we weren’t here earlier,” said the deliveryman. Well, deliverybear was more like it. “Traffic was awful. Good thing you had us standby,” he said. He took off his hat politely, then motioned the other two men to begin unloading. “Where do you want the food—kitchen or dining room?” “Both, probably,” said Piggy. She looked over her shoulder. “They’re sort of all over.” “And you want us to stay and serve?” he confirmed, looking at his notes. “Well, serve is probably too strong a word,” said Piggy. “This is a school party, so it’s strictly buffet and paper plates. But yes, do circulate and keep everything filled.” “You know we will,” said the deliveryman. He grinned at Piggy. “When I saw the menu, I thought, ‘This doesn’t seem like their usual spread,’” he teased. “That it’s not, Donnovan,” she said with a smile. “Kermit’s nephew was having a few friends over after soccer camp.” Donnovan looked around—all around—and back to Piggy. “How many kids were at this camp?” Piggy waved it away. “Not this many,” she said, “but you know how it is. One kid posts it to Facebook and the next thing you know....” Donnovan laughed. “How’s Mr. The Frog holding up? Is he hiding in his office?” Piggy bit back a smile, but her eyes were merry. “Kermit is out of town until tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “We thought we’d spare him the experience.” Donnovan laughed and started to unpack a thermal bag of spinach puffs. “Mrs. The Frog, I always said you were one smart lady,” he said, then, “Jermaine—come over here and help me get the trays set up.”
“Gosh, Nancy,” said Keri. “How many kids do you think are here now?” Nancy did a quick head count of the room they were in—the living room—then craned her neck and looked at the buffet in the dining room. “—seven, thirty-eight—and there were at least 60 kids outside,” she said. “A hundred and ten maybe? A hundred and twenty counting adults?” “I can’t believe your parents came,” said Keri. “Yeah—they know Robin’s folks from way back. Mrs. The Frog asked them to come help, but they’re cool.” “You’re folks are cool,” said a girl with rows of shiny black braids down her back. She took her lime wedge out of her soda and squeezed its juice into her soft drink. “My folks are not cool at all.” “Robin’s Mom is cool,” said a young man wearing a t-shirt that said “I majored in study hall” over loud Hawiian board shorts. “She’s, like, been in movies.” “It’s his aunt,” said another boy, tall and thin, with a long ginger ponytail and a wispy mustache and beard. “She and Robin’s uncle make movies.” “I saw their Treasure Island in literature class,” offered a girl bunny who had arrived with Roger, one of the soccer players. “She has great clothes in that.” “She looks like a fashionista tonight,” one of the girls from the debate team said enviously. “I love those capris.” “Oh know! And her shoes—I can’t walk in wedges that high,” another girl said sadly. “My mom dresses like Donna Reed,” said a young woman glumly. “You know—one of those 50s sitcom moms?” Nancy and Keri exchanged a look and a smile. “OMG!” gushed Keri. “This is, like, the coolest party ever.” A young man with blue spiked hair was helping himself to a raspberry lemonade. “Way,” he said. “Have you heard the band?” “Heard them?” said a young lady wearing a blue-and-white-striped t-shirt dress over a red bathing suit. “Have you seen them? The bass player is sortof yummy.” “Yeah, but the drummer bites,” said Robin, coming up and grinning at everyone. Despite his initial worries about Piggy securing an appropriate band, The Electric Mayhem had been a huge hit. Old rock was considered a new sound again, and the young people seemed suitably awed by the rock legends. Nancy leaned in and grabbed his arm, squeezing it tightly. “You’re the man, Robin,” she teased. “But I’m a frog,” Robin returned saucily. Nancy just grinned at him. “Yes,” she said, doing a dead-on imitation Piggy. Then they both dissolved into giggles.
“And then there was that soap commercial,” said a young man earnestly. He was gazing down at Piggy with a hopelessly smitten look on his face and fighting to hold his place in the circle of admirers.” “Oh, um, yes,” said Piggy, surprised. “Moi does commercials for Dove, too.” Another young man-one who had come in with Alvin and the football crowd tried to step forward and could not, held in place by the sheer bulk of adolescent muscle ringing, enthralled, around Piggy. “Um, have you ever—“ he began, but at that instant, a head appeared above the crowd, a head with two large impressive horns. “So sorry to bother you, Piggy,” said Billy Kidd in a low, pleasant rumble. “Louise needs some help in the kitchen.” He reached for Piggy’s satin-gloved hand and pulled her from their midst without anyone protesting—at least verbally. While Robin’s classmates looked on in varying states of disappointment and envy, Billy tucked Piggy’s hand under his arm and escorted her to the kitchen. “Thank you,” she said, exhaling. “Moi was feeling just a tad, um—“ “Over-idolized?” Bill supplied dryly. Piggy just blinked at him. “Not at all,” she said archly. “I was feeling at tad…short in that crowd.” “Well, you looked like you could use rescuing,” Billy said. “Besides, Louise wants to talk to you.” “In the kitchen?” Piggy asked, but Billy just laughed. “You and Louise in the kitchen?” he said. “Not likely!”
The band was back on after a short break. They’d gotten snacks, drinks and taken Animal for a walk around the block. With a short, “And-uh one, and-oh two and-uh one-two-three-four” Janice flayed the strings of her guitar and the band launched full-out into “Surfin’ USA.” It was like the starting bell at the Kentucky Derby. Young people ran, jumped and scrambled into the Olympic-sized pool or surged onto the patio, bopping and boogieing for all they were worth. There is nothing that energizes a pool party like something by America’s Band, the Beach Boys. The house almost cleared out, but the back-yard was gloriously full. They danced with partners, in rows, in groups and clumps, jumping and gyrating to the driving beat. Robin found himself sandwiched between Nancy and Keri on one side and the chess club on the other side. The chess club--! Robin did a double take. Sheesh! Was there anyone he knew who wasn’t at this party? The simple answer was yes, but these things are rarely simple.
Kermit’s cab had some difficulty depositing him on the curb because of all the parked cars. The entire house seemed ablaze with light. As the taxi crept along the lane, Kermit stared at it for a long moment, wondering if his week of roughing it had simply made him forget the luxurious look of his own abode, but the closer he got to the door, the louder it seemed to get.
Noise was spilling out of his backyard, and it was doing so with less impediment than usual because the back gates were wide open. Kermit listened to the sound for a moment, puzzled. “What the hey?” he murmured. That sounded like The Electric Mayhem. There was a frenzied drum solo, and Kermit’s suspicions were confirmed. What on earth was the Mayhem doing in his back yard? He had a sudden, piercing fear. Piggy loved surprise parties and he hoped she hadn’t planned something social for him when all he wanted was to fall into the quilted softness of his bed. Well—maybe not all he wanted, but definitely at some point in the near future. But, Kermit’s mind prompted, that doesn’t make any sense. Piggy thinks I’m out of town until-- Kermit stopped where he was in the driveway and thought about that, his froggy brow puzzling and his hands on his hips. Piggy thought he was out of town! So what the heck was going on at his house? Whose cars were those on the curb? And who were all those shapes making shadows against the back fence? And why hadn’t Piggy or Robin—oh! Oh oh! Piggy must be out, and Robin was having some sort of wild, undisciplined bash without any parental influence whatsoever! Kermit felt his blood pressure surge. When he found out what was going on, there would be one less frog in the world with computer privileges! he thought. And where the heck was Piggy, while his nephew was having some sort of debauched party without adult supervision? Well, he was going to march right in there and give them a piece of his mind!
Yay! Look out short 'n' green, the frogman cometh...
Girl bunny with Roger from the football team, I wonder if that's on porpoise.
Ha, I'd almost forgotten that commercial.
Hmm, Louise wanting to talk to Piggy, does that bode well or ill.
And Kermit finally arriveth. "One less frog with computer privileges.", classic.
Right now all I can see in the future of this story is Kermit's arms going every which way as he yells at Piggy and/or Robin.(Picture the scene on The Muppet Show where he fires Miss Piggy) And all the poor frog (Kermit) wants is some peace & quiet!
*Newsie on floor chortling so hard tears are starting*
Glad he WANTS a "houseful of kids"! And doubly glad Piggy is THERE...I lived at a house in college for one semester when a small party spread, word-of-mouth, in the same fashion...but with MUCH worse behavior and resultant fallout. (Cops were called. I roped my door shut from inside.) This is HYSTERICALLY funny...can't wait for the big blowup!
“I understand this is called ‘committing dancicide,’” said Louise Kidd. Piggy gave a snort and shook her head.
“Were we this…undisciplined?” Piggy asked. This time, Billy snorted, and Louise smacked him in his bulging bicep.
“Not undisciplined,” said Louise thoughtfully, smiling at some memory. “I prefer to think of it as exuberant.”
“Merci,” said Piggy. “Bien point de vue.”
Louise grinned. Like Nancy, Louise had a wonderful, wicked grin, and she sighed and watched her daughter do the swim.
“What’s the head count now?” Billy asked.
“I think we’re running about 150-160 now, but I think that’s going to be it.”
“Good thing you had the caterer on standby,” said Louise. She leaned against her husband much the way Nancy had done the other day and the big ram put his arms around wife and kissed the top of her head fondly, his eyes on the sea of dancing children.
Piggy smiled, feeling a sudden, swift pang of very specific loneliness. Kermit would come home tomorrow and she could hardly wait. She would have his favorites in the fridge, a stack of fluffy towels next to the shower and their big, inviting bed turned down. She already had a big tin of candied gnats on his nightstand. Tomorrow, the frog hollow in her chest would be filled up, but she wished it could be filled up now. Piggy sighed, watching Robin cut a rug with a complete lack of self-consciousness. He spun Nancy under one arm, then Keri under the other one, both girls laughing with delight. When the music changed, some of the kids broke formation, going back into the kitchen or throwing themselves down on the grass in front of the band. Others simply fell, jumped or were pushed into the pool.
Robin and Nancy broke away from the group and came over to where their parental units were standing, laughing at each other and grinning like bandits. They smelled like chlorine and perspiration and…youth, Piggy decided, remembering so, so much….
Nancy came up and smiled at Piggy. “Thank you so much for the amazing party, Mrs. The Frog,” she said. “Everything is just…perfect.” As before, her eyes strayed over to Robin, and there was something in that look that Piggy knew oh-so-well.
Robin was more theatrical. He took Piggy’s hand, dropped to one knee and kissed her enormous engagement ring. “You are the best—the absolute best—at giving parties and I am indebted to you for the rest of my life.”
“Sounds about right,” said Billy Kidd, his mouth quirking up at the corners.
“What a nice boy!” Louise gushed. “Nancy—you said he was cute! You didn’t say he was so pleasant!”
It was hard to say who was blushing—or laughing—more.
“Robin, get up—“ Piggy growled in mock irritation. “I swear, every day you get more like your—“
“Uncle Kermit!” Robin fell backwards, sprawling on his backside. His eyes were as wide as Piggy had ever seen them.
“Exactly,” she said. “You get more like him every day of the—“
Robin’s frantic gesturing finally communicated itself to Piggy, who turned and looked over her shoulder. She very nearly joined her nephew on the ground, flummoxed with astonishment.
“K-Kermit! Oh! Sweetie!” She stepped forward to embrace him but he held up one slim hand and Piggy subsided. It might be noted that that particular Sesame Street skill had never worked before at this particular address, and it was a testament to the unusualness of the circumstances that it worked now.
Kermit opened his mouth to speak and clamped it firmly shut. Piggy and Robin goggled at him, recognizing that they were about two frog hairs away from arm-waving, order-shouting meltdown and the mere thought of being so close to that precipice froze them in their tracks. They waited breathlessly for Kermit to unclench his jaw, take a deep breath and—finally—speak through a gritted hard palate.
“Number 1,” he said. “Who are all these….” He struggled for an appropriate word, and finally settled for persons. “Persons. Who are all these persons?”
Robin plunged in, scrambling to his feet. “Um this is the group from soccer camp,” he said, and knew the minute it was out of his mouth that Kermit wasn’t buying it. “And—and some other kids from my school who, um, came too.” Robin was ready to plunge in again but Kermit put his hand up and the young frog clamped his lips shut.
Kermit turned to Piggy, who was wide-eyed with shock if not innocence. “Number 2: Did you plan this?”
“Well, yes, Mon Capitan—“
The hand went up and she stopped short. Louise and Billy were staring in horrified fascination. They had known the The Frogs for years and had never seen this degree of…obedience--from anyone who had ever worked for Kermit.
Kermit turned back to Robin. “Number 3: Did you tell me about this?” he asked, and before Robin could answer, Kermit swung back around to Piggy. “Did you mention this when we talked, because I think I would have remembered it.”
“We didn’t know the gym—“
“I didn’t think it was important because you weren’t—“
The spoke at once, then broke off, exchanging worried glances.
“Because you weren’t home, Kermie,” Piggy finished. Piggy tried to convey with her oh-so-blue eyes how much she had missed him, but her best shots were merely glancing off Kermit’s currently impenetrable hull.
“Does this kind of thing usually go on when I’m gone?” Kermit said, eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Of course not, Sweet—”
“Number 5: Who hired the Mayhem?”
Piggy opened her mouth, but Robin spoke first. “That—that was my idea, Uncle Kermit. I thought my friends would get a kick out of a genuine rock band.”
While Piggy disapproved of lying, she was proud of Robin for trying to protect her from Kermit’s ire. Whether it worked or not, Piggy was pretty sure there was enough ire for them both to drown anyway, so she did not contradict her nephew.
There was a long, long moment when it could have gone either way, then Kermit seemed to notice the cute little nanny goat all but hiding behind Robin’s back. Her eyes were wide and…very lovely. Something about the way she was clutching Robin’s arm, which was thrust back protectively as though to shield her from harm, caught Kermit up short. He looked at Piggy, who looked back at him, and he saw…well, almost everything he’d ever wanted to see on her face. He looked back at Robin and saw a lot to be proud of. He did not dare look out at his backyard, which currently looked like a cross between a disco and a fairground, and he heaved a deep, steadying breath and exhaled slowly.
“Okay,” he said, thinking hard. “Well, I’m back early. I have no luggage, no wallet and no phone. Piggy—can you go pay the taxi?”
“Of course, Mon Capita—“
“Allow me,” said Billy, and Kermit looked up and registered his old friend for the first time.
“Billy—Billy Kidd? What on earth—oh. Oh!”
Billy slipped away, heading toward the curb, but Louise Kidd came over and gave Kermit a warm hug.
“Hey there, short, green and aggravated,” she teased. “Looks like you crashed the party at your own house.”
“Oh, um, hi Louise. I, um, guess so,” said Kermit, patting her awkwardly on the back. Kermit was actually pretty hug-friendly, but he was carrying such bad karma that it took him a moment to return the embrace. Then Louise was turning, but before she could do the honors, Robin stepped forward and looked at his uncle, bulbous eye to bulbous eye.
“Uncle Kermit,” Robin said formally. “I’d like you to meet Nancy Kidd. Her parents are William and Louise Kidd, whom I think you and Aunt Piggy know.” Sheesh! The kid could give Miss Manners lessons. Kermit smiled and held out his hand. Cautiously, Nancy put her hand in Kermit’s and smiled.
“Hello, Mr. The Frog,” she said politely. “It was so nice of you and Mrs. The Frog to have our soccer camp and all of our, um, friends over.”
Robin was giving Kermit a look of almost desperate entreaty, a look Kermit knew well—and sympathized with.
“It is lovely to meet you, Miss Kidd,” said Kermit. “Welcome to our home. I’m afraid my entrance left something to be desired.”
“Not really,” said Piggy, and reached out to him. This time he let her hug him, hug him and hold him and give him one hasty but very well-strategized smooch on his froggy lips. Kermit took it as a deposit on payment in full later and smiled at her worried expression.
“I’m going to go up and change into something party appropriate,” Kermit said. He looked at Piggy and finally asked. “Are there any…persons on the second floor?”
“None,” said Piggy. “I had it roped off and I have staff from the caterers keeping an eye on things. No one will bother you, Sweetie.”
“Until I get down,” he muttered, but he was smiling when he walked away.
“You’re Uncle Kermit is sortof scary,” said Nancy, clutching Robin’s arm. Robin most certainly did not mind.
“Hey—we’re carnivores—top of the food chain,” said Robin, then grinned. “Yeah, Uncle Kermit can be a little scary sometimes, but he’s…he really is amazing. I mean, I’m probably going to buried in a hole after everyone goes home, but he didn’t pop a gasket in front of everybody.” He grimaced. “Look, Nancy—I am probably going to get grounded until I’m too old to play soccer. I don’t think you should count on me getting to come on vacation and go to camp.” He looked miserable, but it was a noble sort of misery and Nancy admired him for it.
“Maybe your Aunt Piggy will go to bat for you,” said Nancy hopefully. At this, Robin actually grinned.
“Don’t bet on it. I may be in a huge hole, but I’m probably standing on her shoulders!” He caught her hand and headed to the pool. “C’mon—let’s enjoy the party while we can.”