Chapter 19
Princess Piggy and her rag-tag army comprising of castle servants and ladies (and one, notably male, bunny) in waiting stormed the tower of the evil dark wizard, Uncle Deadly, with tenacity and ferocity unrivaled by even those great, war-winning armies of the Athenians in Greece.
That is… they had the tenacity and ferocity of those great, art-war-winning armies of statues constructed by the Athenians in Greece.
So there Princess Piggy’s noble army stood—stiff and lifeless—behind her as she stared down the door at the bottom of a very, very tall tower.
The princess rolled her eyes mightily, then turned quickly to rally her troops (who jumped at her quick turn) (brave fellows, aren’t they?). “Alright, that’s it!” she growled. “Moi am sick and tired of seeing vous cower like a bunch of sissies! Come on,” she said, “aren’t you supposed to protect moi at any cost? Didn’t you sign an oath or something?”
“Yes!” Sam Eagle declared proudly, sweeping himself to the princess’s side. “You are all a bunch of pathetic souls! How can you look at yourselves in the mirror? Hmm? Hmm? You, who do not jump to the aid of your princess when she needs you—You, who cower like… cowards as the princess risks her magnificent life everyday to protect you—You, who—”
Piggy nudged Sam gently. “I think they get it,” she muttered. “Thank vous, Sam. After such an act of bravery, moi am sure that vous would be willing to lead the assault on the tower.”
“Of course I would, princess!” Sam said proudly. “It is my honor, it is my duty, it is my privilege, it is my—Did you say lead the assault?” the eagle asked with an uncharacteristically timid gulp.
“Sure,” Princess Piggy said, “you stepped up first, didn’t you?”
Sam gulped again. “Erm… right,” he said. “Well… I would, but… I can’t.”
The princess stared at her avian advisor. “Vous… can’t?” she asked. “…Why?”
“It’s quite a… funny explanation,” Sam said. “You see, I was going to fetch your royal breakfast, my princess, and as I was leaving, the Castle Chef left me with a disgusting Excali-burn, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Piggy grumbled. “Hmph!” she grunted. “My eagle’s a chicken!”
“I thought the chickens were in the last chapter,” Robin said.
“Yeah! No one told us we’d be working with chickens,” a precocious penguin piped palpably. (How cool would it be if that was accidental?)
“Ooh! Der chickee?” the Castle Chef asked. “Yahber hoo de poot pie!” he said, whipping a pot out of nowhere.
“Sorry, I’m a vegetarian,” Annie Sue said.
“Quiet!” Princess Piggy howled. “The only chickens here are vous!”
Based on the intelligence level (or lack thereof) of the princess’s army, that probably wasn’t the best comment to make.
All of the penguins quacked up a riot. “We are not chickens! We’re legally an entirely separate species!” one of them declared. “The signs, Zany, get the signs!”
Picket signs (bearing an eerie resemblance to cue cards) shot up above the flightless birds’ heads. In large, bold-faced letters they read: “PENGUIN POWER,” “WE WILL BE ICED NO MORE,” “POW! RIGHT IN THE KIPPER,” “FINISH DISCRIMINATION,” “APPLAUSE”and other penguin protests.
“Oh, good grief,” the princess groaned. “Fine!” she shouted. “I’ll lead the assault!”
“And we will follow blindly!” Beauregard said.
“And cutely!” Bean Bunny added happily.
“Speak for yerself,” Sweetums rumbled.
“Just come on,” Piggy ordered. She moved toward the door and the others followed suit (dress?). Just as she reached for the door knob, the door flew open.
Unfortunately for the excitement lovers in the audience, Johnny Fiama and Sal stepped out.
The army stared at them. “…Johnny? Monkey?” Piggy asked. “What are you doing?”
“Takin’ an afternoon stroll,” Johnny said. He was sounding oddly… not himself. His voice had the same grammatically unfriendly tinge, but it was dull and lifeless.
Piggy frowned. “But why were you in this tower?”
“Great lighting,” Sal said with the same monotonous tone as Johnny.
The princess tilted her head to the side and turned around to face her army. “This isn’t right, right?” she asked.
Sweetums scratched his head. “Well they were with us when we first came up the tower,” the monster said. “But, uh, I don’t remember them actually goin’ in to see Uncle Deadly with us.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Robin said.
“Why would they go up with you but not go in with you?” Princess Piggy asked.
Robin shrugged. “Maybe it’s the writer’s fault,” the wicked, evil little frog said.
“Well… whatever,” the princess said, deciding it wasn’t worth bothering herself with at the moment (or any moment, for that matter). “Listen up,” she said to the monkey and the green fellow, “as moi’s servants, vous have no choice but to follow moi to the end, and to risk life and limb defending moi and her shoes.”
“You want to defend those shoes?” Johnny asked with no hint of emphasis or sarcasm (despite the italics).
“Why, I oughta—” Piggy growled, leaning forward, arm cocked and loaded.
“Ya oughta, but ya shouldn’t,” Sal interjected boringly.
Piggy pulled back slowly. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t knock him and you back into the Dark Ages, bucko!” she growled.
“One good reason: we are in the Dark Ages,” Sal said.
The short-tempered royal pulled back slowly, and then quickly punched forward again, stopping short of Sal’s monkey mug. “Gimme two more,” she said.
Sal didn’t flinch. “We can take ya to Uncle Deadly—and ya won’t get harmed,” he said.
Piggy smirked. “That’s one,” she said sweetly. “HIIII-YA!” she shouted (finally), karate chopping Sal right across the chest. She quickly turned to Johnny and gave him a repeat the performance.
The two servants got up and acted as if nothing had happened. “Come on up, he’s expectin’ you,” Johnny said.
“Now that’s more like it,” Princess Piggy said. “Come,” she said to her army, “now vous don’t have to be an army… Vous can be moi’s entourage.”
Sam (reluctantly), Annie Sue (obligatorily), Bean (cutely), Beauregard (dumbly), the Castle Chef (Scandanavian…ly), and the penguins (anti-poultry) followed Princess Piggy as she followed Johnny and Sal up the tower.
Before leaping to follow the others, Sweetums looked down at Robin. “Little buddy, doesn’t this seem… familiar?” he asked.
Robin nodded. “Vaguely familiar,” he said.
“Whadaya think?” Sweetums growled lightly.
The tiny little Robin the Frog, nephew to the brave and valiant (and increasingly famous) knight, Kermit the Frog, took a deep breath. He puffed out his tiny, dark green chest and stared up at the door. “We’ve gotta go in,” Robin said.
Sweetums blinked. “Ya sure about that?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Robin said with a firm, brave nod. “We’ve gotta protect the princess. It’s what my Uncle Kermit would do.”
“If he was here we prob’ly wouldn’t be in this mess,” Sweetums muttered.
“What?” Robin asked.
“Erm… You’re right, pal, let’s get up in that tower!” the monster guard said.
Robin nodded firmly. “Forward!” he declared proudly.
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
The door at the top of the tower (that which led into Uncle Deadly’s chambers) burst open. Sal ran in and stopped in front of Uncle Deadly. “My dark lord and master,” Sal said, “I just thought I should run ahead and warn ya that Johnny is leading up Princess Piggy and the rest of the castle stuff as we speak.”
If Uncle Deadly had been sitting, he would’ve fallen on his scaly blue hind quarters (ewww…). “What?” he shouted. “You fools! I’m not prepared! I’m in my evening gown—I can’t take guests like this! Pah!” he hissed. “Bobo, put on some tea, Crazy Harry, put Andy and Randy in the closet. We want to look dignified.”
“Why?” Crazy Harry asked, poking his incredibly undignified head next to Uncle Deadly’s shoulder.
“Well, we may be kidnapping the princess, but we want to do it with class,” he said.
“Class!” Bobo declared, poking his head next to Uncle Deadly’s other shoulder.
“Was that at all necessary?” the evil wizard asked.
“Not at all,” Bobo said with a hypnotized smile.
“Then get off of me and get back to doing what I asked!” Deadly shouted, flailing his arms about angrily.
“You want I should hold up the princess, boss?” Sal asked.
“No,” Uncle Deadly said blankly. “She’s far too heavy.” (If you listen closely, you can hear King Statler and King Waldorf booing all the way from the castle.)
“Right,” Sal said with a bored nod.
Uncle Deadly frowned at Sal. “Just go away,” he said.
“Right,” the monkey said again.
As the simian scampered off, Uncle Deadly began to pace nervously. “This is it—the big moment, I’m finally going to overthrow the princess! But… I still can’t leave the tower,” he said. “Hmm…” He stroked his chin. “Shall I hypnotize her, enslaving her in my evil army as well? No, no, no,” the wizard said, shaking his head (rhyme time!), “I can’t waste good tea… I’ll simply have to throw her in the dungeon. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. The dungeon!”
Deadly stopped and stared ahead of him. “Bobo?” he called to the bear.
“Yessir?” Bobo asked.
“There is a dungeon, is there not?”
“Ya mean besides this place?” Bobo asked with a dull laugh.
Deadly sighed. “I knew I should’ve added the anti-sarcasm serum to the mind-control tea,” he muttered. “And you can lift… let’s say… 300 pounds, can’t you?”
“Yes and… if I’ve had a good breakfast, I can,” Bobo said.
“What did you have for breakfast this morning?” Uncle Deadly asked impatiently.
“Eggs-calibur,” the bear said.
“That’s the second joke about that sword, you realize that?” Uncle Deadly asked.
“At least I didn’t say halibut!” Bobo retorted.
Uncle Deadly rolled his eyes. “Never mind!” he hissed.
Johnny Fiama walked through the open doorway (aren’t doorways always open?) and cleared his throat. “Presentin’, the beautiful, powerful, full-figured—”
“What are you doing?” Uncle Deadly asked.
“She’s makin’ me,” Johnny mumbled. He cleared his throat again, continuing his list. “Sultry, legendary, tired of makin’ this list… Princess Piggy.”
With the meek introduction (accompanied with very little fanfare) finished, Princess Piggy made her grand entrance through the door. “Ahaha,” she laughed sweetly. “Hello, little people! Moi am gracing your pathetic existence—to spice it up a little bit!”
The tower, Princess Piggy observed, was dark. She couldn’t even see her shiny purple gloves in front of her thin, gorgeous face (I’m in the money… I’m in the money…). “Eh… Hello?” she called out. “Alright, where’s this Deadly guy?”
Before the princess’s entourage could join her in the dark, creepy tower, the door slammed behind her. She gulped. “Oh, very funny, Annie Sue! This still doesn’t make you the cutest girl in the kingdom, ya know!” Piggy growled.
A single blue flame flicked on across the room.
Piggy shivered. “Do you know who moi am?” she shouted.
“Yes,” an eerie, slithering voice hissed. “I know exactly who you are.”
Before Princess Piggy could karate chop the darkness in front of her, she was gripped in a massive pair of all-encompassing furry brown arms. “Hey! Hey! Let go of me! I’ll—I’ll—” Piggy screamed.
A blue flame, lit at the tip of a thin wand, clasped between two sharp blue talons ignited in front of Piggy’s snout.
“Come, princess,” Uncle Deadly said, his head barely illuminated by the flickering blue flame, “I have some plans you’ll just love to hear about.”
“Oh, they’re great,” the grizzly (HA!) voice that accompanied the furry arms said, “he’s gonna redecorate this whole tower—some real nice curtains, a rug—”
“Not those plans, you dumby!” Uncle Deadly shouted.
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