Chapter 25
Clueless Morgan poked Polly’s huge, red cheek with a thin twig he had found lying around. “Do you think he’s…?”
“Going to be shouting for hours when he wakes up?” Mad Monty interjected. “Yes, yes I do.”
Clueless and Monty sighed in unison. “How long do you think he’ll be out?” Clueless asked.
Monty reached forward and poked Polly’s snout with his finger. “Hard to say,” he mumbled as he kept prodding the crustacean-dragon. “I guess we just wait for the spell to wear off.”
“Should we push the rock off of his head?” Clueless asked.
Monty gave Clueless a curious look. “That’s not a bad idea,” he said. He straightened his hat and started to climb Polly’s head. “You know, you’re a lot smarter when Polly’s not around.”
“A round of what?” Clueless asked dumbly.
Mad Monty shook his head in disappointment. “Never mind, just help me push.”
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
As Kermit rode his mighty (mighty cowardly) steed back towards the blacksmith shop, he happened upon Fozzie, Gonzo, Scooter, Camilla, and Clifford conversing with the colorful band of bohemians who had provided the fight music in the last chapter. The rain had stopped and the band was dismantling their traveling tent. (Dismantling, in this sense, meaning yanked out of the ground and thrown into a lake by Animal.)
Fozzie saw Kermit striding up first. “Kermit! You’re o-kay!” the bear shouted as he ran towards the charred and battle-scarred (cute, cute rhyme) frog. He yanked the brave and valiant knight off of the steed and cradled him in his bear arms like a mother. “We were so worried!” he said as squeezed Kermit tightly.
Kermit scrunched up his face. “Couldn’t you see the whole fight?” he asked.
“Well, yeah…” Fozzie said, putting Kermit on the ground and starting to dust him off. “But I’ve heard some people fake fights just for the publicity.”
“Hey, that’s why we took this gig!” Floyd said. “No better publicity than a dragon fight in the middle of nowhere.”
“Good grief,” Kermit sighed. “Are you guys even supposed to be in this scene?”
“Is anyone truly supposed to be anywhere unless they’re already there?” Dr. Teeth asked profoundly.
“I don’t know, man,” Clifford said. “You might want to reconsider that notion… the narrator isn’t someone you want to tick off.”
“Oh, rully,” Janice added. “He, like, totally kept us out of the story ferever after we messed up his introduction.”
Can we move on with this scene, please?
“Gladly,” Kermit said to no one in particular (once again, the high opinion I have for myself shines through). The frog cleared his throat. “Well then, fellows, it appears we should be moving on to find our jeweled chalice!”
Everyone, including the still-present band, stared at the frog. He frowned. “That’s your line, Fozzie!” Kermit whispered to the bear.
“I know, Kermit, but… the band is still here,” the bear whispered back.
“Oh, was that our cue to scoot?” Floyd asked.
“Your cue was a whole chapter ago, actually,” Scooter said matter-of-factly.
Dr. Teeth scratched his head. “…So we should process along now?” he asked.
Kermit groaned loudly. “Just go! Go! Go! Go!” he squawked at the band as they quickly grabbed their equipment and dashed away.
Except for Zoot, who just awoke from his nap on the ground. He looked up. “Huh? Wha? Where we at?” he mumbled groggily.
“In the wrong scene, now go!” Kermit said, pushing Zoot away.
“Thought I was in a Paris bistro…” Zoot mumbled as he left.
Kermit, now free of the band, cleared his throat once again. “Now I believe it is time for us to continue our epic quest to find the chalice!” he said proudly.
Gonzo raised his hand into the air like a student in a classroom. Kermit sighed. “Yes?” he asked. Gonzo didn’t respond. “Hello? Why are you raising your hand?”
“Who, me?” Gonzo asked.
“Yes you!” Kermit shouted. “I asked you what you wanted and you didn’t respond!”
“Oh.” Gonzo said. “Well, mother always said to wait until you were acknowledged by name to—”
“Gonzo, what do you want?” Kermit shouted, definitely losing his cool.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” the weirdo said. “I figured I should go before we left so we don’t have to stop on the way.”
Kermit slapped his head and assumed it would leave a mark. “Does anyone else need to go to the bathroom?” he asked.
Fozzie, Scooter, and even Camilla all sheepishly raised their hands.
“Well, I guess that is everybody,” Kermit said.
“Not everybody.”
Link and Dr. Strangepork sidled up to the group, each with a raised hand.
Kermit stared quizzically at the two pigs (and their horses, of courses). “Wait… does this mean that you two are coming with us?” he asked.
“Oh, please, can we?” Link asked. “I don’t really care about marrying the princess anyway. I just wanted the shiny crown.”
Kermit and Scooter exchanged a look that everyone but Link probably picked up on. “Well… I don’t see why not,” the frog said. “We could always use some… muscle in the group.”
“It’s mostly flab, actually,” Strangepork said, poking Link’s bicep. “But we can provide you with a carriage to ride in!”
“Sold!” Scooter shouted, running towards the carriage, jumping in the back and throwing off his shoes. “…What? We’ve been walking for days!”
“Ahh! I bet your feet are toe-tally exhausted! Wocka! Wocka!” Fozzie said.
“So is that joke,” Clifford said with a smirk.
“What about you, Clifford,” Kermit asked, “care to join an epic journey?”
“Nah, that’s enough for me,” Clifford said. “I got too many weapons to weld and swords to serve up. I’m out! Later Kerm. Good luck findin’ that cup thing. Keep the sword—judgin’ by how things are goin’, you’re gonna need it.”
Kermit and Clifford shook hands before the blacksmith waved away the group as they rode off towards the cave of the chalice.
Clifford shook his head. “Man, talk about your League of Extraordinary Nincompoops.”
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
Uncle Deadly, reclined in a chair with a wet towel over his eyes and his legs propped on a stool, sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. It had been a long day. He flicked his wrist and a heap of steam surrounded him. He dug himself deeper into his chair and silently waited for his stress to evaporate with the steam.
Unfortunately Uncle Deadly is the villain in this story, and we all know how well villains deal with stress. They have a certain way of making it escalate around them until it eventually (spoiler alert!) crumbles all around them. (Like a metaphorical game of “Jenga.”)
And Bobo was about to pull another piece from the tower as he cleared his throat to get Uncle Deadly’s attention. “Uh, boss?” the bumbling bear mumbled humbly.
The dark wizard let out another sigh. “What is it now?” Deadly asked.
“Well… ya told me to keep ya updated on what the princess is doin’. I’m not positive, but I think she’s outsourcing for another wizard to break the spell you’ve got on us,” Bobo said. “It also looks like she might be tellin’ the kings… but it’ll take awhile for them to get outta bed, so don’t jump to conclusions.”
Uncle Deadly’s jaw clenched and his claws tightened into fists but he remained in his chair. Serenity now, he thought to himself. “And what do you propose we do about these new developments?” he asked aloud.
Bobo scratched his head. The boss had never asked his opinion before—mom would be so proud. “Well it has been a long day. The guys are getting’ kinda hungry. We could take the night off, have a nice dinner, then go after them in the mornin’. I think you could stand to take break too, boss. Your wrinkles are startin’ to show.”
Deadly rapped his claws on the arms of his chair. As important as it was to rule the kingdom, he was just terribly exhausted and tired of dealing with idiots. If he let Bobo have his way, he could spend the rest of the night relaxing in his makeshift sauna with no further interruptions.
But there was the matter of Polly. That idiotic crustacean needed to be taught a lesson—or perhaps just boiled and served with a side of melted butter. Well, there was probably nothing he could do about Polly right now anyway. There was a very good chance that the lobster was still unconscious under a rock somewhere.
“Fine,” Deadly decided. “Have your night off,” he told Bobo. “Just leave me alone.”
“Yessir!” Bobo said cheerfully. “One question for ya though, boss.”
“What is it?”
“What’re ya makin’ us for dinner?”
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
Robin hopped along the stone floor of the castle quietly. He wasn’t supposed to be out of his room in case Uncle Deadly’s thugs were roaming the grounds… but he needed to find something. He desperately missed his Uncle Kermit, so he was looking for the next best thing.
The moonlight shone through the windows of the castle as he hopped along. It reflected off the floor and illuminated the halls. The little frog had no idea where he was going… but he knew what he was looking for.
He grinned from ear-to-nonexistent-ear when he saw it at the end of the hall. Robin’s hop picked up slightly as he headed toward it. When he reached it, he sat his tiny hand on the bottom and looked up with a smile. With a big hop, he landed on the first step. “One,” he whispered.
The little frog hopped up each step of the spiral stairway, counting one after the other quietly. When he reached the top, he had counted thirty stairs (and he didn’t have to go back and count again—not even once!).
Robin sat cross-legged and pondered this. “Thirty stairs,” he whispered, “divided by two is… the two goes into three one time and that leaves… ten, which two goes into… five times… so that makes… FIFTEEN!” he shouted happily, his little voice echoing through the halls. He slapped his hands over his mouth. “Whoops,” he whispered.
The frog climbed down fourteen stairs and plopped himself down on the fifteenth and smiled. He looked up and realized that a window had been built on the wall right above the fifteenth stair. “Wow, talk about smart architecture!” Robin said to himself.
“Well, Uncle Kermit, I’m here—halfway!” he whispered to the stars shining outside the window. “I hope you found a happy place, too. You’re missing some great adventures, here, Uncle Kermit! You probably wouldn’t like it too much… but I’m having a blast!” Robin laid down on his back and peered out the window at a single star. “Gee,” he said, now talking to himself, “I wonder if Uncle Kermit can see these same stars.” He smiled. “I hope so. He’d love ‘em!”
Before he knew it, Robin was sound asleep halfway down the stairs.
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
Princess Piggy stared out of her window, brushing her hair. As she looked up at the shining stars (“Stars as in balls of gas, not as in moi”), she hummed lightly. “Oh, mon capitan,” she sighed, “do come back to us soon. Moi may be tough, but I’m no Gallahad. Sometimes I like having a big, strong, chiseled man sweep me off my feet and rescue me from certain peril!” she swooned dramatically.
She paused and thought about what she had just said. “But I’d settle for a small, wirey, green froggy instead.” Piggy tossed her brush onto her bed and laid her head in her gloved hands and stared up at a single star. “Oh, Kermie… I do hope these stars remind vous of moi’s eyes.”
Before she knew it, Princess Piggy was carried to her bed by servants and asleep in a sea of way-too-soft pillows.
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
As he sat around a flickering fire, Kermit stared up into the same starry sky. He pulled his legs to his chest and let himself get lost in the beauty above him. He sighed happily and shuffled backwards to lean against a rock.
“Good night, Fozzie,” Kermit called over to the bear.
“Night, Kermit!” Fozzie called back. “Ahh! Knight! Kermit! Get it? Wocka! Wocka!”
“Good night, Scooter,” Kermit said to his squire, ignoring the bear.
“Sleep tight, boss,” Scooter said.
“Kermit,” the frog corrected. “Good night, Gonzo, Camilla.”
“Good night is right!” Gonzo said, poking his head out of a bush. “Say good night, sweety.”
“Brawk baw, baw” Camilla clucked.
“Yeesh,” Kermit grimaced. “Good night Link, Dr. Strangepork.”
“Momma!” Link yelped.
“Oh, will you be quiet, Link?” Strangepork said. “It’s just dark!”
Kermit shook his head. “And good night, horse.”
The horse whinnied.
The frog stared into the sky at a single star. “Good night, Robin,” he whispered. “And good night, Princess Piggy. I’ll be back soon.”
Before he knew it, Kermit was sound asleep even as Link snored loudly a few feet over.
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