ReneeLouvier
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Remembering The Good Times We Had - Commentary
Renee: Hey guys! This is Renee, author of this fanfiction! We're watching this as a movie right now. Me and Scooter, will be reviewing this nice piece of work.
Scooter: *Rolls eyes momentarily, looking over at her..* Yeah, you churned this out in a day and a half, I'm suprised your fingers are still moving...
Renee: Hush, man. It's starting!
Chapter One
A lone figure sat on the procenium stage. He looked out over the empty seats, muttering to himself while the pale moonlight filtered down from a small hole in the ceiling. He glanced upwards towards that hole. He said nothing, shaking his head a little. Nights like these, they were no comfort to the old soul. They would chill his blood, had he had any in him. His hands clasped together, looking once more over the seats, the smell of smoldering fabric and wood filled his nostrils once more, he closed his eyes, remembering that night....the one night that made him a prisoner.
Scooter: Ooh, suspense...I like it. The smell makes it seem believeable...
Renee: It happened for him though, it should be believeable. For a geek you arn't all that smart.
Scooter: HEY! Let's just keep going...okay?
Renee: Sorry, Scoot. *Hugs him tightly, snuggling in for the rest of the story..*
-~-~-60 years ago-~-~-
He was so excited, it was opening night for the play "Hamlet", he was the lead role, holding the skull of Yorick upwards and reciting those famous lines. He couldn't wait. But something did not seem right to him. He smelled something odd backstage, he told his friend to take over for his part on stage momentarily, because he was going to go and check it out. He walked back to the boiler room, it was already started there, some charcoal from the heater had spilled out, and the entire room was in fire. He ran, as fast as his legs could take him, dashing to the backstage, then out to the stage itself. He had thought about trying to put the fire out, but it was already envloping the back wing quickly.
"FIRE! GET OUT!! GET OUT OF HERE!!! FIRE FIRE!!!"
Renee: GET OUT!! YEAH...go run for your lives!!!
The people, at the dragon's call ran from the theatre. Quickly, like ants evading some cruel childs magnifing glass, the theatre was empty. He ran to the back, checking the dressing rooms, and he saw a young child backstage, he was one the owner's child...or nephew, he always forgot. He saw the child trapped inside one of the dressing rooms.
"Jerry!! Jerry Grosse!!! Come here child, quickly!!!"
Scooter: *looks at Renee, mouth open.* MY UNCLE!? Now why would you put him in there, Renee?
Renee: It seemed like a good idea at the time. Plus, he's a money-grubbing man, it just seems to fit him. You'll see later on in it, okay?
The child did not move, he was too scared. The young dragon, did something he knew not he could do. He ripped the door open, and grabbed the child, then took off running, he placed the child outside of the theatre, then he ran back inside to see if there were more people trapped, like Jerry...but there were none. After he checked the dressing rooms, one last time...he collapsed inside them. Making the theatre...his tomb.
Chapter Two
The next day, Kermit came into the theatre, unlocking the doors, and smiling.
Scooter: Sometimes I wonder if Kermit is on something...ya know?
Renee: *She now stares at Scooter, her eyes wide.* What?!
Scooter: He's just too happy sometimes...
Renee: Maybe he just has a good life, ever think of that, Scoot?
Scooter: Oh yeah...
"Frightful day, Uncle Deadly! How was your night?"
Kermit glanced around the theatre, usually when he greeted Uncle Deadly, he would respond in some way. No sound came forth from the rafters. It was quiet as a mouse inside of there.
"Uncle Deadly...? Is something the matter??"
Kermits eyes focused towards the middle of the stage, he turned on the primary lighting, and stepped back a little bit. Uncle Deadly was sprawled out on the theatre's stage, clutching what looked like a piece of paper.
Scooter: Looks like he's drunk. *sips some soda, watching*
Kermit called out once more, hoping to see Uncle Deadly stir a little, which he did. He sat up, and glanced around, then he flew upwards towards the rafters once more, without a noise, upon seeing Kermit, with his friends piling into the theatre.
"Who was that, Mon Captiane?" Piggy cooed to Kermit, whom she saw was just standing there, staring at the stage.
"It was just Uncle Deadly, Piggy. Something seems to be up with him."
She dropped the sweetness immediately, "Well, something's always up with him."
Renee: I hope I didn't overplay her....She's always angry at something. Is she really like this in real life, Scoot?
Scooter: Overplay? More like Underplayed. >>
Fozzie was helping Gonzo drag his cannon inside the theatre, and they stopped, hearing the two talk.
"Maybe we should see what's with him? Could be something...ahh...we could help with." Fozzie replied to the both of them, while Gonzo was already half-way inside the cannon, checking it out. It had cracked from last weeks performance. Then he popped his head outside of it. "Maybe somethings eating at him."
Piggy huffed, walking back towards her dressing room, "Maybe somethings eating him period, ever thought of that? He's a dead ghost, it dosn't matter anymore guys."
Deadly sat on the rafters, watching the pig walk to her dressing room...he remembered that room well. He only wished he wasn't trapped here. Inside this retched theatre. His thoughts stopped for a moment, he realized what he just thought.
"Retched? I believe this place to be...retched? But they are friendly with me...." He looks down at the stage, where Scooter and Beauregard are bringing out a few sets for Kermit and Fozzie to look at how they look from the people's point of view.
He watched idly for awhile, before going back towards the unused part of the theatre. He stopped in his old room, it's covered with cobwebs, and is extremely dusty. He sits in the creaky old wooden chair, and pulls it closer to the dusty desk.
Scooter: Nice creepy room description, Renee.
Renee: Thanks, Scooter.
He stops, and pulls out that piece of paper once more from his coat pocket, and looks at it. It was a faded picture of himself with a beautiful blue dragoness. He barely smiled, and placed one hand against the picture. Then he slid it back into it's old metal frame, placing it upon his desk. Then opening a drawer, he pulls out a piece of smooth, creamy white parchment from a beautiful carved box. Lifting a pen from an ink well, he starts to write...
He rolled up the parchment, after the ink dried, and he closed it with a black ribbon, placing it on Kermit's desk before taking his leave in the rafters high above.
Chapter Three
Kermit groaned, as Beauregard tripped over the backdrop for Piggy's act, ripping it somewhat. "Scooter, could you go and get the script for Piggy's act, we need to see what else might go with that song of hers...and then the names of the special guest perhaps?"
"Right Chief! I'll get it right away.."
Scooter made his way to Kermit's desk, and he shuffled through the papers, finding the script for Piggys' act, the list of guests, and his hand knocked off the small parchment roll onto the floor. "Hmm? What's this? This wasn't here before. Better take it to Kermit."
Scooter: I think I would have seen it before it hit the floor, Renee.
Renee: I don't notice stuff till it hits the floor, so I was kinda going from my perspective, you know?
Scooter: Oh. Cool.
"Hey Boss, here ya go. I also found this on the desk while looking for the guest list....looks kinda old. It wasn't there before." Scooter handed him the small parchment, Kermit pulled the ribbon off of it, which held it closed, he read it slowly, it dosn't really shock him...until he reads that last line.
"...I might finally go where I was intended...." His mouth opens slightly, re-reading that. He looks at Scooter for a moment, then he closes his mouth.
"Boss, what is it?" He picks up the parchment from Kermit, and he reads it carefully, then he looks around, expecting to see Uncle Deadly pop out from somewhere, but he is nowhere to be seen.
Deadly sat against the stairway on the roof, looking out over the buildings. He was still at the theatre, so he was alright...but he knew the rules. He wasn't supposed to be able to speak to the living, but Death gave him special privilages...for what reason, he sometimes forgot. But...he was never able to leave his place of death. Or eat lasgsna on the 3rd Wednesday.
Scooter: *laughs at the lasgana line* Renee, you had to stick that in there!!
Renee: Well, I couldn't stop laughing first time I read it.
Sometimes he really hated that last rule. He sighed, looking at the picture once more. He walked around to the front of the buildings roof, sitting on the edge of it. He always took this perch outside, it was a very old habit. He watched for Eleanor every day. He knew it was fruitless, but still. His cold heart longed for her to warm it once more.
"I'm dead. Why do I do this!?" He yells out to the heavens. "She only came that one day....and I missed her. Why do I still long for her!??" He places his head in his hands, he feels like sobbing right then and there..
Scooter: Wow, if that's angst I don't know what is...
Renee: *Looks at Scooter, smirking.* You've not seen angst just yet, my sweet gofer. *Has a sinister smile on her face.*
Scooter: Okay...now you're scaring me.
"May-Maybe because...you miss her?" A small voice came from behind him. Deadly whipped his head around, spying a tiny frog standing in the gravel of the flat rooftop.
It was Robin, Kermit's nephew. He was shuffling softly around, not really looking at Deadly at all, one would guess he was scared of him. "I-I mean, Uncle Deadly.....you might miss her....and....who was she anyways? I heard Uncle Kermit talking about what you wrote....but, I don't know who it was."
Renee: The "awwww" factor is introduced!
Scooter: Robin...and Uncle Deadly? That's kinda weird, isn't it?
Renee: It's my story! *bonks him over the head with popcorn bucket*
Uncle Deadly smiled towards Robin, he stood up, then sat against the wall, in front of Robin. He sighed a little bit. "She was before your time, child. Her name was Eleanor. She was to be my wife...." He couldn't say much more, trying to remember her as she was, the memories somewhat painful for Deadly.
Robin looked up towards the ghostly blue phantom, and tilted his head a little, thinking about what he has said. "Was? Didn't you get married??" He pointed to a small tarnished gold ring, that was on Deadly's left hand. Uncle Deadly covered his hand, looking down.
"I died before it could happen, frog. I wear it in memory of her. She might be dead for all I know."
"Why don't you go look for her?"
"Robin, was it? -- I'm trapped here. If you didn't die of natural causes, wherever you do die, you're forced to haunt for all eternity."
Robin gasped softly, looking at the old dragon. "You died at the theatre...didn't you?" All Deadly could do is nod, he stood up, gently picking Robin up in his hands. Robin didn't complain at all. The two walked towards the stairwell, which before was boarded up by Deadly, a small board towards the bottom was forced outwards, just enough room for Robin to squeeze through. Deadly pulled out a gold lockpick, and opened the door using it. Him and Robin walked slowly down the stairs. The two were silent, for the most part.
Renee: Get ready for it....
"You're not as cold as I thought you would be, Uncle Deadly."
Renee: And everyone goes "awwwwwww", with the big puppy eyes, and the melting hearts, and the sugary sweetness!
Scooter: ...*Laughs at the Jerry Lewis imiation she's doing now, in the seat beside him.*
He looked down at Robin, who for some reason, was snuggled against him now. "Child, this is my body, Life restored it for me."
"I thought you were...dead?"
"Yes, I am techinally dead. But I am also living. In a way. I don't really know how to explain it. Place your hand here.." He guided Robins small hand to the area on his chest, where his heart would be. Robin felt nothing, no beating, and he then realized Deadly dosn't really breath either.
"Wow.." Robin seemed quite amazed at how Deadly is.
Deadly chuckled a little bit, then he set Robin down at the bottom of the long stairwell, and walked into his room.
Two people were waiting for him inside, they closed the door behind Deadly, making sure it was in secrecy.
Scooter: Aw, crap! Uncle Deadly...Get out of there!!!
Renee: Well, that's it for this installment!
Scooter: *Still yelling at the movie screen, trying to tell Uncle Deadly to get out of his room while he still can.*
Renee: Hey guys! This is Renee, author of this fanfiction! We're watching this as a movie right now. Me and Scooter, will be reviewing this nice piece of work.
Scooter: *Rolls eyes momentarily, looking over at her..* Yeah, you churned this out in a day and a half, I'm suprised your fingers are still moving...
Renee: Hush, man. It's starting!
Chapter One
A lone figure sat on the procenium stage. He looked out over the empty seats, muttering to himself while the pale moonlight filtered down from a small hole in the ceiling. He glanced upwards towards that hole. He said nothing, shaking his head a little. Nights like these, they were no comfort to the old soul. They would chill his blood, had he had any in him. His hands clasped together, looking once more over the seats, the smell of smoldering fabric and wood filled his nostrils once more, he closed his eyes, remembering that night....the one night that made him a prisoner.
Scooter: Ooh, suspense...I like it. The smell makes it seem believeable...
Renee: It happened for him though, it should be believeable. For a geek you arn't all that smart.
Scooter: HEY! Let's just keep going...okay?
Renee: Sorry, Scoot. *Hugs him tightly, snuggling in for the rest of the story..*
-~-~-60 years ago-~-~-
He was so excited, it was opening night for the play "Hamlet", he was the lead role, holding the skull of Yorick upwards and reciting those famous lines. He couldn't wait. But something did not seem right to him. He smelled something odd backstage, he told his friend to take over for his part on stage momentarily, because he was going to go and check it out. He walked back to the boiler room, it was already started there, some charcoal from the heater had spilled out, and the entire room was in fire. He ran, as fast as his legs could take him, dashing to the backstage, then out to the stage itself. He had thought about trying to put the fire out, but it was already envloping the back wing quickly.
"FIRE! GET OUT!! GET OUT OF HERE!!! FIRE FIRE!!!"
Renee: GET OUT!! YEAH...go run for your lives!!!
The people, at the dragon's call ran from the theatre. Quickly, like ants evading some cruel childs magnifing glass, the theatre was empty. He ran to the back, checking the dressing rooms, and he saw a young child backstage, he was one the owner's child...or nephew, he always forgot. He saw the child trapped inside one of the dressing rooms.
"Jerry!! Jerry Grosse!!! Come here child, quickly!!!"
Scooter: *looks at Renee, mouth open.* MY UNCLE!? Now why would you put him in there, Renee?
Renee: It seemed like a good idea at the time. Plus, he's a money-grubbing man, it just seems to fit him. You'll see later on in it, okay?
The child did not move, he was too scared. The young dragon, did something he knew not he could do. He ripped the door open, and grabbed the child, then took off running, he placed the child outside of the theatre, then he ran back inside to see if there were more people trapped, like Jerry...but there were none. After he checked the dressing rooms, one last time...he collapsed inside them. Making the theatre...his tomb.
Chapter Two
The next day, Kermit came into the theatre, unlocking the doors, and smiling.
Scooter: Sometimes I wonder if Kermit is on something...ya know?
Renee: *She now stares at Scooter, her eyes wide.* What?!
Scooter: He's just too happy sometimes...
Renee: Maybe he just has a good life, ever think of that, Scoot?
Scooter: Oh yeah...
"Frightful day, Uncle Deadly! How was your night?"
Kermit glanced around the theatre, usually when he greeted Uncle Deadly, he would respond in some way. No sound came forth from the rafters. It was quiet as a mouse inside of there.
"Uncle Deadly...? Is something the matter??"
Kermits eyes focused towards the middle of the stage, he turned on the primary lighting, and stepped back a little bit. Uncle Deadly was sprawled out on the theatre's stage, clutching what looked like a piece of paper.
Scooter: Looks like he's drunk. *sips some soda, watching*
Kermit called out once more, hoping to see Uncle Deadly stir a little, which he did. He sat up, and glanced around, then he flew upwards towards the rafters once more, without a noise, upon seeing Kermit, with his friends piling into the theatre.
"Who was that, Mon Captiane?" Piggy cooed to Kermit, whom she saw was just standing there, staring at the stage.
"It was just Uncle Deadly, Piggy. Something seems to be up with him."
She dropped the sweetness immediately, "Well, something's always up with him."
Renee: I hope I didn't overplay her....She's always angry at something. Is she really like this in real life, Scoot?
Scooter: Overplay? More like Underplayed. >>
Fozzie was helping Gonzo drag his cannon inside the theatre, and they stopped, hearing the two talk.
"Maybe we should see what's with him? Could be something...ahh...we could help with." Fozzie replied to the both of them, while Gonzo was already half-way inside the cannon, checking it out. It had cracked from last weeks performance. Then he popped his head outside of it. "Maybe somethings eating at him."
Piggy huffed, walking back towards her dressing room, "Maybe somethings eating him period, ever thought of that? He's a dead ghost, it dosn't matter anymore guys."
Deadly sat on the rafters, watching the pig walk to her dressing room...he remembered that room well. He only wished he wasn't trapped here. Inside this retched theatre. His thoughts stopped for a moment, he realized what he just thought.
"Retched? I believe this place to be...retched? But they are friendly with me...." He looks down at the stage, where Scooter and Beauregard are bringing out a few sets for Kermit and Fozzie to look at how they look from the people's point of view.
He watched idly for awhile, before going back towards the unused part of the theatre. He stopped in his old room, it's covered with cobwebs, and is extremely dusty. He sits in the creaky old wooden chair, and pulls it closer to the dusty desk.
Scooter: Nice creepy room description, Renee.
Renee: Thanks, Scooter.
He stops, and pulls out that piece of paper once more from his coat pocket, and looks at it. It was a faded picture of himself with a beautiful blue dragoness. He barely smiled, and placed one hand against the picture. Then he slid it back into it's old metal frame, placing it upon his desk. Then opening a drawer, he pulls out a piece of smooth, creamy white parchment from a beautiful carved box. Lifting a pen from an ink well, he starts to write...
"Dearest friends,
You have taken care of me, as I have you. As you are well knowledgeable, I have stopped those who wish this theatre harm. Now...reluncately, I ask for your help. If at all possible, I wish to contact family of mine. I miss them. The one in particular I speak of, her name was Eleanor. She was a beautiful dragoness, she was in the theatre every night the performances were shown. She may be dead herself, but I am long for her company once more, if you can find her, I would be glad. So very glad. If you cannot, I shall live my existance as I have before...perhaps I might finally go to where I was intended...
Sincerely, Uncle Deadly."
You have taken care of me, as I have you. As you are well knowledgeable, I have stopped those who wish this theatre harm. Now...reluncately, I ask for your help. If at all possible, I wish to contact family of mine. I miss them. The one in particular I speak of, her name was Eleanor. She was a beautiful dragoness, she was in the theatre every night the performances were shown. She may be dead herself, but I am long for her company once more, if you can find her, I would be glad. So very glad. If you cannot, I shall live my existance as I have before...perhaps I might finally go to where I was intended...
Sincerely, Uncle Deadly."
He rolled up the parchment, after the ink dried, and he closed it with a black ribbon, placing it on Kermit's desk before taking his leave in the rafters high above.
Chapter Three
Kermit groaned, as Beauregard tripped over the backdrop for Piggy's act, ripping it somewhat. "Scooter, could you go and get the script for Piggy's act, we need to see what else might go with that song of hers...and then the names of the special guest perhaps?"
"Right Chief! I'll get it right away.."
Scooter made his way to Kermit's desk, and he shuffled through the papers, finding the script for Piggys' act, the list of guests, and his hand knocked off the small parchment roll onto the floor. "Hmm? What's this? This wasn't here before. Better take it to Kermit."
Scooter: I think I would have seen it before it hit the floor, Renee.
Renee: I don't notice stuff till it hits the floor, so I was kinda going from my perspective, you know?
Scooter: Oh. Cool.
"Hey Boss, here ya go. I also found this on the desk while looking for the guest list....looks kinda old. It wasn't there before." Scooter handed him the small parchment, Kermit pulled the ribbon off of it, which held it closed, he read it slowly, it dosn't really shock him...until he reads that last line.
"...I might finally go where I was intended...." His mouth opens slightly, re-reading that. He looks at Scooter for a moment, then he closes his mouth.
"Boss, what is it?" He picks up the parchment from Kermit, and he reads it carefully, then he looks around, expecting to see Uncle Deadly pop out from somewhere, but he is nowhere to be seen.
Deadly sat against the stairway on the roof, looking out over the buildings. He was still at the theatre, so he was alright...but he knew the rules. He wasn't supposed to be able to speak to the living, but Death gave him special privilages...for what reason, he sometimes forgot. But...he was never able to leave his place of death. Or eat lasgsna on the 3rd Wednesday.
Scooter: *laughs at the lasgana line* Renee, you had to stick that in there!!
Renee: Well, I couldn't stop laughing first time I read it.
Sometimes he really hated that last rule. He sighed, looking at the picture once more. He walked around to the front of the buildings roof, sitting on the edge of it. He always took this perch outside, it was a very old habit. He watched for Eleanor every day. He knew it was fruitless, but still. His cold heart longed for her to warm it once more.
"I'm dead. Why do I do this!?" He yells out to the heavens. "She only came that one day....and I missed her. Why do I still long for her!??" He places his head in his hands, he feels like sobbing right then and there..
Scooter: Wow, if that's angst I don't know what is...
Renee: *Looks at Scooter, smirking.* You've not seen angst just yet, my sweet gofer. *Has a sinister smile on her face.*
Scooter: Okay...now you're scaring me.
"May-Maybe because...you miss her?" A small voice came from behind him. Deadly whipped his head around, spying a tiny frog standing in the gravel of the flat rooftop.
It was Robin, Kermit's nephew. He was shuffling softly around, not really looking at Deadly at all, one would guess he was scared of him. "I-I mean, Uncle Deadly.....you might miss her....and....who was she anyways? I heard Uncle Kermit talking about what you wrote....but, I don't know who it was."
Renee: The "awwww" factor is introduced!
Scooter: Robin...and Uncle Deadly? That's kinda weird, isn't it?
Renee: It's my story! *bonks him over the head with popcorn bucket*
Uncle Deadly smiled towards Robin, he stood up, then sat against the wall, in front of Robin. He sighed a little bit. "She was before your time, child. Her name was Eleanor. She was to be my wife...." He couldn't say much more, trying to remember her as she was, the memories somewhat painful for Deadly.
Robin looked up towards the ghostly blue phantom, and tilted his head a little, thinking about what he has said. "Was? Didn't you get married??" He pointed to a small tarnished gold ring, that was on Deadly's left hand. Uncle Deadly covered his hand, looking down.
"I died before it could happen, frog. I wear it in memory of her. She might be dead for all I know."
"Why don't you go look for her?"
"Robin, was it? -- I'm trapped here. If you didn't die of natural causes, wherever you do die, you're forced to haunt for all eternity."
Robin gasped softly, looking at the old dragon. "You died at the theatre...didn't you?" All Deadly could do is nod, he stood up, gently picking Robin up in his hands. Robin didn't complain at all. The two walked towards the stairwell, which before was boarded up by Deadly, a small board towards the bottom was forced outwards, just enough room for Robin to squeeze through. Deadly pulled out a gold lockpick, and opened the door using it. Him and Robin walked slowly down the stairs. The two were silent, for the most part.
Renee: Get ready for it....
"You're not as cold as I thought you would be, Uncle Deadly."
Renee: And everyone goes "awwwwwww", with the big puppy eyes, and the melting hearts, and the sugary sweetness!
Scooter: ...*Laughs at the Jerry Lewis imiation she's doing now, in the seat beside him.*
He looked down at Robin, who for some reason, was snuggled against him now. "Child, this is my body, Life restored it for me."
"I thought you were...dead?"
"Yes, I am techinally dead. But I am also living. In a way. I don't really know how to explain it. Place your hand here.." He guided Robins small hand to the area on his chest, where his heart would be. Robin felt nothing, no beating, and he then realized Deadly dosn't really breath either.
"Wow.." Robin seemed quite amazed at how Deadly is.
Deadly chuckled a little bit, then he set Robin down at the bottom of the long stairwell, and walked into his room.
Two people were waiting for him inside, they closed the door behind Deadly, making sure it was in secrecy.
Scooter: Aw, crap! Uncle Deadly...Get out of there!!!
Renee: Well, that's it for this installment!
Scooter: *Still yelling at the movie screen, trying to tell Uncle Deadly to get out of his room while he still can.*