More...a step forward, a step back...
Also a mysterious phone-call..from soomone...
___
*^*^*^*
Nicky Holiday’s hand left the doorknob. The door swung closed. Fozzie covered the photograph with his hand. He looked away, hiding his face. Gonzo froze. N. Holiday, policeman. Nicky turned towards the receptionists. A telephone rang. Gonzo dived for it, falling behind the desk, out of view.
Nicky laughed. “More careful or he’ll get himself another penguin.” Nicky passed Fozzie, passed the desk, and pushed open the door, entering Clifford’s office.
“Clifftop Estates,” Gonzo said. He lifted himself onto the chair, took deep breaths. That had been close. If Nicky had recognised them…
“First, it’s Cliff Top-Estates,” said a strong female voice from the phone. “Second, who the shell are you?”
“Who the Shell?” Gonzo said, trying not to laugh.
“Hey, I like it. If you don’t, honey, it’s your concern. Now who are you, and what are you doing working for that beast?”
Fozzie looked up, questioning. Gonzo rolled his eyes. “Clifford is in a meeting right now. Ring back if want him for something.”
“Hey, like I might just happen to want him…”
Gonzo put the phone down. He had more important concerns.
*^*^*^*
“Fozzie. You get those files packed into a box. We’ll need them back at home. I’ll find a way to listen in.”
“But, Gonzo, how?” Fozzie asked.
“Simple. But we either need a balloon, a bicycle wheel and a piece of flexy-wire, or we can put our ears to the door.”
“I vote ear to the door,” Fozzie said.
“Remember what happened last time?”
“I’ll go find a balloon.” Fozzie pulled open a drawer. Pencil, pen, pencil sharpener, paper, a stapler. No balloon. He opened the next. There was a bottle of perfume, a flask, glass, and a scrapbook. Fozzie flipped through it. Africa. He glanced up at Gonzo.
Gonzo pressed his ear to the door.
“I thought you said…”
“I’ll risk it,” Gonzo said.
He heard his employer’s voice. “I’m tellin’ ya we may not be able to shift them.”
“But you can procure the land?”
“Possibly. Probably. I can’t give a guarantee.”
“I need that land, Cliff, and I intend to get it. Ghosts, or no ghosts.”
“Yeah, but…”
“Yeah, but, no but. You know what, ever since me and my little gang left England and came here after that little mess up with the diamond, your country and everyone in it have been yeah but, no buting. Can you get me that land, or not? Because if you can’t, I’ll get someone else who can. Give me a straight answer.”
A sigh. A screech of a chair. A crack of a hand hitting a table. A chair falling over. “Alright.” Cliff’s voice. “I’ll do it. Give me a day.”
A day… Gonzo turned around to Fozzie. The door slammed open. Gonzo hit the wall.
Fozzie sat at the desk with the photo of the construction site in one hand, and the scrapbook in the other. Nicky looked straight at him, at the photo. He left the building.
*^*^*^*
The lock broke, sending splinters of wood flying across the room and skittering on the floor. The door hit the wall and swung on its hinges. Fozzie stopped dead still, his fingers frozen above the computer keys. Gonzo looked up from the paperwork that scattered across the floor in the breeze through the open door.
Black boots, thick woollen socks. A tank top was stretched over mountains of muscle. Tattoos covered his upper arms, a curly-haired pig. A heart. The words, Annie, and Sue. A skull. Crossbones. He cracked his knuckles.
“Er…” Fozzie said. The man looked at him, and Fozzie melted behind the desk, covering his face with his hat. The tattooed driver, Gonzo recognised him now, walked towards Fozzie. Gonzo began to stand. The door to the office opened and Clifford stood there.
The tattooed driver swung his fist, connected with the computer screen, sent it smashing against the floor. Fozzie leapt back, tripping on his chair, and scurrying against the wall.
Clifford’s eyes widened.
Gonzo cut his eyes from Fozzie, to Clifford, to the man.
The man stepped past the desk, towards Clifford. Clifford backed into his office.
*^*^*^*
Clifford stood, slumped in his office doorway. His lip was split, and he touched his tongue against it, dabbing the blood. Fozzie sat at his desk, his face stained with the salt of tears. Gonzo took a deep breath. “It was my fault,” he said.
Clifford looked at him.
“I was sorting the…paper work…and…” Gonzo paused. “I came across this photo. And notes from, a construction site. And, a threat. And…I looked at them.”
Clifford took a breath. He closed his eyes.
“I guess I was, intrigued. And.” Gonzo shrugged. “I left them in the open. I didn’t realize…but…I’m sorry.”
Clifford stared at the floor. Fozzie started to speak. “No,” he said. “It was, I was, that is. I had the picture in my hand…He, I, picked it up. He must have seen it then. I’m sorry too…I am…”
Clifford touched his lip. “It’s mine,” he said. “My fault. Should’a told the truth. Said I were scared, that I din’a want to fight that place again. But I will. I will get it for him. They won’t stop me again. Nuthin’s gunna stop me this time. I mean that, I really do. I’m gunna get that site, and build that building, and nuthin’s gunna stand in my way.”
“Nothing,” Gonzo echoed. He leant against the wall, and sighed.
Welcome to the Muppet Central Forum!
Jim Henson Idea Man
Back to the Rock Season 2
Bear arrives on Disney+
Sam and Friends Book
