CommanderD
Member
- Joined
- Jun 3, 2006
- Messages
- 15
- Reaction score
- 0
Uh, hi, I'm new here. (waves) My name is Katie--
(Hi Katie!)
--and I'm a Muppetholic.
(Wow, these Muppet smilies kick donkey!)
Ahem. Anyway. I've never been that big on forums, and you may not see me much after this, but I just wanted to get my Muppets fanfic to a wider audience. It's one of the few things that I've written that I'm (relatively) proud of.
Warning: It's long. Very long. But I can't post links yet. So... (cough) Prepare yourselves for terminal long-ness.
............
Sometimes, no matter how hard you rehearse something, it never comes out the way you wanted it.
More than anyone else on the Muppet Show, Camilla the chicken knew this. She knew it well. No one else spent as much time practicing their lines as Camilla did, and no one flubbed them as much as she did onstage. It’s not that she didn’t know her lines—what few she ever had—it’s just that she couldn’t say them. Well, of course she couldn’t say them. She technically shouldn’t be saying anything at all. She was a chicken. Chickens shouldn’t talk!
But then why could the frogs and pigs and bears and everyone else around her talk?
Kermit could tell how upset she was after her performance. “It’s alright, Camilla. These things happen,” the frog said comfortingly. Camilla just sighed. “It’s alright,” Kermit repeated. “Do you want a speaking part next week or not?”
“Yes,” said Camilla, almost defiantly. In addition to the few lines she learned for the job (Kermit always made sure that her speaking parts were short), Camilla had been painstakingly teaching herself to speak, word by word. She knew the meanings of most commonly used English words, but getting them out of her mouth was a whole other matter entirely. Unfortunately, the process was agonizingly slow. Always concerned with manners, Camilla had first taught herself “please” and “thank you”, which took nearly a week by themselves. Not too much progress had been made besides that—a few essentials, like “I”, “me”, “hello”, “goodbye”, and other things. Her vocabulary was still nowhere near advanced enough to carry on even a simple conversation, however.
It was a daunting task, but Camilla was still determined to eventually be able to speak at least in simple sentences, which is why, even after not being able to get her lines out onstage, she always requested a speaking role in next week’s show.
“You’re quite the trooper, Camilla,” said Kermit approvingly. “Let’s see, what can we fit you in next week?” Kermit flipped through a few sheets of paper, obviously the frameworks of sketches that were planned for next week’s show. “Ah, here we go! You could—“
“Oh Keeeeeermie!”
Kermit sighed, making a face of annoyance. “What is it now, Piggy?”
Miss Piggy, having made a characteristic dramatic entrance, made a “tsk”ing noise at Kermit’s greeting. “Kermie, Kermie, Kermie, does one need a reason to be with one’s beloved? Moi just wanted to be with vous… for when moi is with vous, moi’s life becomes so much brighter…”
“Piggy…” Kermit hesitated, obviously expecting an outburst from Miss Piggy after, even as nicely as he could, pushing her away. “As usual, I do appreciate the affection, but I state again, for probably the five hundredth time, that I do not reciprocate your feelings. And even if I did, I’m a little busy right now, so could you please give me some room?”
Miss Piggy’s eyes fluttered, but her expression remained the same, and both Camilla and Kermit knew what was coming next. Kermit groaned audibly. “Why yes, Kermit, I can give you room… A HOSPITAL ROOM! HI-YAH!”
Her karate chop sent Kermit flying to the other side of the backstage room. Pulling himself up on the ground, Kermit had scarcely time to wheeze out, “…onstage for the next number,” before falling back on the ground in a dead faint.
Fluffing her hair back as if nothing had happened, Miss Piggy sniffed a bit. “Someday soon he’ll realize how lucky he is.”
“But until then, why don’t you spend time with someone who does return your affections?” Gonzo the Great, appearing seemingly out of nowhere (although that’s probably exactly WHERE he appeared from), asked Miss Piggy hopefully.
“Listen, Pinocchio—” Miss Piggy growled.
“Aw, come on! Give me a chance, just one!” Gonzo pleaded.
“I don’t think so!” snapped Miss Piggy. “Do you want to join Frog Boy over there on the floor?”
“But Miss Piggy—“
“Beat it, Banana Nose!”
“But I—“
“BEAT IT!”
“No! Don’t leave me!” Gonzo cried, clinging to Miss Piggy as she attempted to make her way back to her dressing room.
Camilla, having seen the whole scene, spun around and went to the exit door, her throat growing tighter and tighter with anger. Slamming the door behind her, she glared up at the night sky, which was now beginning to look like a dark pond through her fast-brimming tears. Her anger at Gonzo’s infidelity was quickly morphing into anger at herself. Well, of course Gonzo would prefer Miss Piggy. She certainly had her share of flaws, but she was beautiful, talented, and admiringly tenacious. Next to her, a dull, nearly mute chicken didn’t even stand a chance.
Camilla flopped down on the curb outside of the studio, in the back, by the dumpster, and let herself cry freely. Stupid, dumb, boring chicken that she was—she was insane to have thought that she stood a chance in any sort of relationship, much less a relationship with one of the most unique individuals she’d ever known—THE most unique individual she’d ever known, there was no question! How could she be so stupid?
Her self-pity was rudely interrupted by a forceful swinging open of the door—with quite a show of agility, Miss Piggy tossed Gonzo outside as if she were a professional wrestler and Gonzo was a plush doll. “AND STAY OUT, FREAK!” she hollered. The door was shut with a crash.
“Hey, that was painful!” cried Gonzo happily. “Do it again, Miss Piggy!” He ran to the door and was about to fling it open when he saw who else was outside. “Camilla? What are you doing here—“ His voice suddenly changed at seeing her face. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”
This was one of those occasions where Camilla would have given her left wing to be able to say everything that was bubbling up inside of her—What do you mean, “what’s the matter”? I saw you with that pig—I was right there, didn’t you notice? Do you even CARE anymore?—but her limited vocabulary let her, and only with considerable effort, get just three words out:
“You—and—her!” She pointed accusingly at the door where Miss Piggy had been standing just moments before.
“Oh… you saw me and Miss Piggy.” Gonzo’s face fell a bit. “Listen, Camilla, about that—“
Shaking with rage, Camilla turned around and stared defiantly in the other direction.
“Camilla, please, just let me explain… let me apologize… do anything, just turn around so I can look in your eyes when I’m talking to you…”
Camilla’s eyes were fixed on a fire hydrant down and at the left of the end of the alley, but her mind was racing—she sure wanted to believe that he was sorry, and part of her did, but she didn’t want to face more heartbreak than she already was, nor did she want to let Gonzo know that she was going to be just blindly forgiving each time this happened—if it wasn’t Miss Piggy, it would be some other chicken, they both knew that—and yet Camilla knew that she’d let it go, as always, although she shouldn’t… no, she had to! She didn’t want him upset with her—
She closed her eyes as if to block out all the conflicting thoughts in her head, turned around, and opened them slowly, giving Gonzo what she hoped was a stern look, but she had a feeling it was probably more just a heartbroken one.
Scratch that—she was sure it was a heartbroken gaze, because Gonzo visibly flinched when she looked at him. “Oh, Camilla, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.”
“But…” Camilla said, the only part of the question she had that she could say.
“But why do I go after Miss Piggy like that?” Gonzo finished. As usual, he knew exactly what Camilla would have said if she could. He sat down on the curb next to Camilla and drummed his fingers together, searching for words. “You see, Camilla, when I first came on this show… I didn’t really have a very good time. Oh sure, I know that the audience is only a secondary thing, and my art should be for me and me alone, but… it’s hard getting booed at every performance, you know? Kermit wasn’t scheduling me as much, and I was feeling worse and worse about myself… and that’s about the time that I first started to notice Miss Piggy.”
Camilla snorted to herself. This isn’t sounding like the kind of story that you should tell to your current girlfriend, she thought.
“Hey, you wanted to know, right?” said Gonzo; again, almost reading her thoughts. “Besides, you have to know, I think… and I need to tell you. Miss Piggy… she’s almost like a symbol to me. Aw jeez, I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like she’s so pristine and perfect, and she belongs to a group of people that I could never even look at, you know? She represents something that I can’t have. I’ll admit,” added Gonzo quickly, correctly interpreting Camilla’s questioning glare, “that I was in love with her. Well, okay, maybe a crush. It’s one of those things that’s hard to tell. Whatever the case was, I was completely obsessed. I finally worked up the courage to let her know… but…”
Camilla, despite herself, grinned. But she wouldn’t have you.
“Yeah, she wouldn’t have me,” Gonzo agreed. “You’ve got to understand, Camilla, that an infatuation like that… you can’t just snap your fingers and get over it in an instant. And I’m trying, really I am. Actually… it should be easier,” Gonzo admitted with a sad half-chuckle. “What kind of loser still clings to a woman who insults him at every chance she gets? She may be beautiful, and just plain amazing all around, but… she didn’t understand me. Which shouldn’t have surprised me. Nobody did.”
“But I…” Camilla said, pointing at herself, wishing she could say more. But I wasn’t put off by your weirdness, Gonzo. In fact, that’s what drew me to you. You and me, we’re like kindred souls, both freaks in a world that belittles us, and I saw in you someone who I could understand, and love, while you could do the same for me!
“But you, Camilla, accepted me from day one, when you first came on this show. You were always standing in the wings, watching me do my latest daredevil stunt, and applauding me when I succeeded, and…” Gonzo laughed. “And rushing for the first aid kit when I failed. You really shocked me, sweetie. I’d never realized anyone would care so much about me… and of all people, a chicken! You know that I’ve always had a certain fondness for chickens, don’t you?”
Camilla couldn’t help but laugh a bit. That’s a bit different from the norm.
“Well, I’ve not exactly ever been much like the norm,” Gonzo reminded her. “I wonder if I’m part chicken?”
Camilla shook her head. “No,” she said, laughing.
“I suppose not,” sighed Gonzo. “I don’t have the feathers. Or the beak. Well, maybe my nose could have been a beak at some point in development. It kinda looks like a toucan beak, don’t you think?”
Camilla was still laughing, very few tears left in her eyes now. Unable to say anything to that, she just shrugged.
“You think it does, I know you do!” Gonzo laughed. “Anyway…” He grew serious and took her wings in his hands. “I’m sorry for making you cry, babe. I know that… this probably isn’t the first time. If it’s not Miss Piggy, then it’s another chicken… I don’t even know why I do it,” he laughed.
“What?” Camilla asked, confused.
“Why I keep trying to find another girlfriend, when I’ve already got the best one in the world!” Gonzo cried. “I mean, maybe it’s because I just want more people to love me. But I know that if I keep this up much longer, I might lose your love, and then I’ll have nothing!”
“But—“
“Oh, come on, Camilla, don’t even think that. No one else has stuck by me the way you have, and no one else probably ever will! Sure, you’re not flashy like Miss Piggy is, but I don’t really care. I love you just the way you are.”
“But—“
“I don’t care. You don’t need to talk much, sweetie. You communicate through your expressions, your body language… and your clucks,” said Gonzo with a smirk.
“I…” Camilla, although she had never tried to teach herself this word, was trying her hardest to get the word “wish” out.
“I know, sweetie, I know,” said Gonzo, stroking her wings. “You wish you could talk. And I’ll help you. But don’t feel like you have to do this for me. If it’s for you, then go for it, but if it’s just for me… you don’t have to do that. If you completely lost your vocal chords, I’d still love and understand you, do you realize that?”
Camilla blushed. “You—“
“—are just saying that? No, I’m not. Trust me on this.”
“…I…” Camilla mentally cursed herself—she had been working on the word “love” for awhile now, but it hadn’t seemed that important to her—of course, things changed when you truly and desperately wanted to say it! “…love you!” she finally cried out.
Gonzo smiled. “You’ve been working on that one for awhile, haven’t you? I love you too. And I promise that I’ll try and keep my distance from Miss Piggy, even though that was one painful boot out the door she gave me. Maybe I could get the same effect by—“
“And…” Camilla interrupted sternly.
“Yes, yes, and I’ll stop hitting on other chickens too,” said Gonzo, laughing. “With the other chickens though, it’s never serious. Never has been, never will be. You’re the one that stands out.”
Camilla stared at him, wondering why, and also wishing that the word “why” was in her spoken vocabulary. Note to self—“why” would probably be a good choice of word to work on next.
“What do you mean, ‘why’?” Gonzo looked shocked that Camilla would think that. “Do you realize how much different you are from the other chickens, Camilla? You can walk on a tightrope, you can juggle loaves of bread whilst and at the same time unicycling through an obstacle course, you can talk! I know it’s not much, but it’s far more than any other chicken can! You’ve got that same stubborn determination Miss Piggy has—yes, you do!—and that’s precisely one of the things about you that I love so much! And besides, you can put up with me—and not many other people can do that.”
If more people got to know you better, they would too, thought Camilla lovingly.
“Aaw, sweetie…” Gonzo hugged Camilla closely. “You know, Camilla,” he said slowly, “I always thought that if anyone ever DID understand me, then they’d be even more lost than I am… but gosh, you’re mentally balanced!”
Camilla laughed. That would normally be a compliment, but coming from you I can’t be too sure!
“Oh, it’s a compliment alright,” said Gonzo. “I mean, come on, Camilla! You could have any guy you wanted! Why do you stick with a freak like me?”
You’re NOT a freak! Camilla shouted in her mind. Besides, there aren’t a ton of guys lining up to date a chicken.
“But what about other roosters? Come on, I know that you think some of those cock-a-doodle-doo-ers are pretty sexy. Don’t deny it!”
Yes, I don’t deny it. But I don’t want just any old rooster… they’re all alike, you know? I was always different from all the other chickens… I never really felt comfortable with any of them. They all just seemed so… I don’t know… every other chicken I’ve ever known just had their mind on some trivial thing, never looking ahead, never looking at the big picture. And they were BORING. They were dull as dirt! I’m sure I am too, but I never wanted a relationship with any of them. And I assumed that I’d never have a relationship because of that… before I came to realize that inter-species relationships were more common than I thought. I saw you on the show before I actually tried out for it—I tried out for the show BECAUSE of you! You were so different from anyone else I’d ever seen and will ever see—I had this thought, this crazy thought, that if I got to know you I’d never be bored, that I might actually be understood… never in my wildest dreams did I think that you’d want ME in return…
Even though these had all been merely thoughts, Camilla took a deep breath, as though she had said that all very hurriedly. Did you understand all that? she asked silently. Sure, Gonzo understood her most of the time, but it would take a real sense of telepathy to understand that whole ramble…
“Have I ever not understood you?” asked Gonzo gently, hugging her tightly.
Camilla smiled and shook her head, clucking a bit now, but still feeling rather doubtful of Gonzo’s supposed mind-reading abilities.
“And by the way, babe, you’re not dull. You keep ME on my toes!”
Camilla’s jaw dropped—he knew she had thought THAT?
“You—you—“ she sputtered out.
“Don’t be so surprised!” laughed Gonzo. “I told you—I’ve always understood you, and you’ve always understood me, and that’s why we need each other so much, and why we’ve got each other!”
Camilla, feeling the warmth of love and being loved, snuggled down tighter into Gonzo’s chest. “I love you,” she said contentedly, thankful that she had finally learned how to say that oh-so-important phrase.
Gonzo stroked the feathers on Camilla’s face tenderly. “Wow, Camilla, did you look at the stars tonight?” he asked after a moment of silence, sounding mystified as he always did when talking about the stars or any strange, far-off place. “They’re so bright… even against the city lights… They’re so beautiful.” He turned and looked Camilla in the eyes. “Wow, they look even more beautiful reflected in their eyes!”
Camilla, from beneath her feathers, turned a deep fuchsia.
Gonzo took her wing in his hand. “Take you home?” he asked.
Camilla smiled.
“Yes.”
(Hi Katie!)
--and I'm a Muppetholic.
(Wow, these Muppet smilies kick donkey!)
Ahem. Anyway. I've never been that big on forums, and you may not see me much after this, but I just wanted to get my Muppets fanfic to a wider audience. It's one of the few things that I've written that I'm (relatively) proud of.
Warning: It's long. Very long. But I can't post links yet. So... (cough) Prepare yourselves for terminal long-ness.
............
Sometimes, no matter how hard you rehearse something, it never comes out the way you wanted it.
More than anyone else on the Muppet Show, Camilla the chicken knew this. She knew it well. No one else spent as much time practicing their lines as Camilla did, and no one flubbed them as much as she did onstage. It’s not that she didn’t know her lines—what few she ever had—it’s just that she couldn’t say them. Well, of course she couldn’t say them. She technically shouldn’t be saying anything at all. She was a chicken. Chickens shouldn’t talk!
But then why could the frogs and pigs and bears and everyone else around her talk?
Kermit could tell how upset she was after her performance. “It’s alright, Camilla. These things happen,” the frog said comfortingly. Camilla just sighed. “It’s alright,” Kermit repeated. “Do you want a speaking part next week or not?”
“Yes,” said Camilla, almost defiantly. In addition to the few lines she learned for the job (Kermit always made sure that her speaking parts were short), Camilla had been painstakingly teaching herself to speak, word by word. She knew the meanings of most commonly used English words, but getting them out of her mouth was a whole other matter entirely. Unfortunately, the process was agonizingly slow. Always concerned with manners, Camilla had first taught herself “please” and “thank you”, which took nearly a week by themselves. Not too much progress had been made besides that—a few essentials, like “I”, “me”, “hello”, “goodbye”, and other things. Her vocabulary was still nowhere near advanced enough to carry on even a simple conversation, however.
It was a daunting task, but Camilla was still determined to eventually be able to speak at least in simple sentences, which is why, even after not being able to get her lines out onstage, she always requested a speaking role in next week’s show.
“You’re quite the trooper, Camilla,” said Kermit approvingly. “Let’s see, what can we fit you in next week?” Kermit flipped through a few sheets of paper, obviously the frameworks of sketches that were planned for next week’s show. “Ah, here we go! You could—“
“Oh Keeeeeermie!”
Kermit sighed, making a face of annoyance. “What is it now, Piggy?”
Miss Piggy, having made a characteristic dramatic entrance, made a “tsk”ing noise at Kermit’s greeting. “Kermie, Kermie, Kermie, does one need a reason to be with one’s beloved? Moi just wanted to be with vous… for when moi is with vous, moi’s life becomes so much brighter…”
“Piggy…” Kermit hesitated, obviously expecting an outburst from Miss Piggy after, even as nicely as he could, pushing her away. “As usual, I do appreciate the affection, but I state again, for probably the five hundredth time, that I do not reciprocate your feelings. And even if I did, I’m a little busy right now, so could you please give me some room?”
Miss Piggy’s eyes fluttered, but her expression remained the same, and both Camilla and Kermit knew what was coming next. Kermit groaned audibly. “Why yes, Kermit, I can give you room… A HOSPITAL ROOM! HI-YAH!”
Her karate chop sent Kermit flying to the other side of the backstage room. Pulling himself up on the ground, Kermit had scarcely time to wheeze out, “…onstage for the next number,” before falling back on the ground in a dead faint.
Fluffing her hair back as if nothing had happened, Miss Piggy sniffed a bit. “Someday soon he’ll realize how lucky he is.”
“But until then, why don’t you spend time with someone who does return your affections?” Gonzo the Great, appearing seemingly out of nowhere (although that’s probably exactly WHERE he appeared from), asked Miss Piggy hopefully.
“Listen, Pinocchio—” Miss Piggy growled.
“Aw, come on! Give me a chance, just one!” Gonzo pleaded.
“I don’t think so!” snapped Miss Piggy. “Do you want to join Frog Boy over there on the floor?”
“But Miss Piggy—“
“Beat it, Banana Nose!”
“But I—“
“BEAT IT!”
“No! Don’t leave me!” Gonzo cried, clinging to Miss Piggy as she attempted to make her way back to her dressing room.
Camilla, having seen the whole scene, spun around and went to the exit door, her throat growing tighter and tighter with anger. Slamming the door behind her, she glared up at the night sky, which was now beginning to look like a dark pond through her fast-brimming tears. Her anger at Gonzo’s infidelity was quickly morphing into anger at herself. Well, of course Gonzo would prefer Miss Piggy. She certainly had her share of flaws, but she was beautiful, talented, and admiringly tenacious. Next to her, a dull, nearly mute chicken didn’t even stand a chance.
Camilla flopped down on the curb outside of the studio, in the back, by the dumpster, and let herself cry freely. Stupid, dumb, boring chicken that she was—she was insane to have thought that she stood a chance in any sort of relationship, much less a relationship with one of the most unique individuals she’d ever known—THE most unique individual she’d ever known, there was no question! How could she be so stupid?
Her self-pity was rudely interrupted by a forceful swinging open of the door—with quite a show of agility, Miss Piggy tossed Gonzo outside as if she were a professional wrestler and Gonzo was a plush doll. “AND STAY OUT, FREAK!” she hollered. The door was shut with a crash.
“Hey, that was painful!” cried Gonzo happily. “Do it again, Miss Piggy!” He ran to the door and was about to fling it open when he saw who else was outside. “Camilla? What are you doing here—“ His voice suddenly changed at seeing her face. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”
This was one of those occasions where Camilla would have given her left wing to be able to say everything that was bubbling up inside of her—What do you mean, “what’s the matter”? I saw you with that pig—I was right there, didn’t you notice? Do you even CARE anymore?—but her limited vocabulary let her, and only with considerable effort, get just three words out:
“You—and—her!” She pointed accusingly at the door where Miss Piggy had been standing just moments before.
“Oh… you saw me and Miss Piggy.” Gonzo’s face fell a bit. “Listen, Camilla, about that—“
Shaking with rage, Camilla turned around and stared defiantly in the other direction.
“Camilla, please, just let me explain… let me apologize… do anything, just turn around so I can look in your eyes when I’m talking to you…”
Camilla’s eyes were fixed on a fire hydrant down and at the left of the end of the alley, but her mind was racing—she sure wanted to believe that he was sorry, and part of her did, but she didn’t want to face more heartbreak than she already was, nor did she want to let Gonzo know that she was going to be just blindly forgiving each time this happened—if it wasn’t Miss Piggy, it would be some other chicken, they both knew that—and yet Camilla knew that she’d let it go, as always, although she shouldn’t… no, she had to! She didn’t want him upset with her—
She closed her eyes as if to block out all the conflicting thoughts in her head, turned around, and opened them slowly, giving Gonzo what she hoped was a stern look, but she had a feeling it was probably more just a heartbroken one.
Scratch that—she was sure it was a heartbroken gaze, because Gonzo visibly flinched when she looked at him. “Oh, Camilla, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.”
“But…” Camilla said, the only part of the question she had that she could say.
“But why do I go after Miss Piggy like that?” Gonzo finished. As usual, he knew exactly what Camilla would have said if she could. He sat down on the curb next to Camilla and drummed his fingers together, searching for words. “You see, Camilla, when I first came on this show… I didn’t really have a very good time. Oh sure, I know that the audience is only a secondary thing, and my art should be for me and me alone, but… it’s hard getting booed at every performance, you know? Kermit wasn’t scheduling me as much, and I was feeling worse and worse about myself… and that’s about the time that I first started to notice Miss Piggy.”
Camilla snorted to herself. This isn’t sounding like the kind of story that you should tell to your current girlfriend, she thought.
“Hey, you wanted to know, right?” said Gonzo; again, almost reading her thoughts. “Besides, you have to know, I think… and I need to tell you. Miss Piggy… she’s almost like a symbol to me. Aw jeez, I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like she’s so pristine and perfect, and she belongs to a group of people that I could never even look at, you know? She represents something that I can’t have. I’ll admit,” added Gonzo quickly, correctly interpreting Camilla’s questioning glare, “that I was in love with her. Well, okay, maybe a crush. It’s one of those things that’s hard to tell. Whatever the case was, I was completely obsessed. I finally worked up the courage to let her know… but…”
Camilla, despite herself, grinned. But she wouldn’t have you.
“Yeah, she wouldn’t have me,” Gonzo agreed. “You’ve got to understand, Camilla, that an infatuation like that… you can’t just snap your fingers and get over it in an instant. And I’m trying, really I am. Actually… it should be easier,” Gonzo admitted with a sad half-chuckle. “What kind of loser still clings to a woman who insults him at every chance she gets? She may be beautiful, and just plain amazing all around, but… she didn’t understand me. Which shouldn’t have surprised me. Nobody did.”
“But I…” Camilla said, pointing at herself, wishing she could say more. But I wasn’t put off by your weirdness, Gonzo. In fact, that’s what drew me to you. You and me, we’re like kindred souls, both freaks in a world that belittles us, and I saw in you someone who I could understand, and love, while you could do the same for me!
“But you, Camilla, accepted me from day one, when you first came on this show. You were always standing in the wings, watching me do my latest daredevil stunt, and applauding me when I succeeded, and…” Gonzo laughed. “And rushing for the first aid kit when I failed. You really shocked me, sweetie. I’d never realized anyone would care so much about me… and of all people, a chicken! You know that I’ve always had a certain fondness for chickens, don’t you?”
Camilla couldn’t help but laugh a bit. That’s a bit different from the norm.
“Well, I’ve not exactly ever been much like the norm,” Gonzo reminded her. “I wonder if I’m part chicken?”
Camilla shook her head. “No,” she said, laughing.
“I suppose not,” sighed Gonzo. “I don’t have the feathers. Or the beak. Well, maybe my nose could have been a beak at some point in development. It kinda looks like a toucan beak, don’t you think?”
Camilla was still laughing, very few tears left in her eyes now. Unable to say anything to that, she just shrugged.
“You think it does, I know you do!” Gonzo laughed. “Anyway…” He grew serious and took her wings in his hands. “I’m sorry for making you cry, babe. I know that… this probably isn’t the first time. If it’s not Miss Piggy, then it’s another chicken… I don’t even know why I do it,” he laughed.
“What?” Camilla asked, confused.
“Why I keep trying to find another girlfriend, when I’ve already got the best one in the world!” Gonzo cried. “I mean, maybe it’s because I just want more people to love me. But I know that if I keep this up much longer, I might lose your love, and then I’ll have nothing!”
“But—“
“Oh, come on, Camilla, don’t even think that. No one else has stuck by me the way you have, and no one else probably ever will! Sure, you’re not flashy like Miss Piggy is, but I don’t really care. I love you just the way you are.”
“But—“
“I don’t care. You don’t need to talk much, sweetie. You communicate through your expressions, your body language… and your clucks,” said Gonzo with a smirk.
“I…” Camilla, although she had never tried to teach herself this word, was trying her hardest to get the word “wish” out.
“I know, sweetie, I know,” said Gonzo, stroking her wings. “You wish you could talk. And I’ll help you. But don’t feel like you have to do this for me. If it’s for you, then go for it, but if it’s just for me… you don’t have to do that. If you completely lost your vocal chords, I’d still love and understand you, do you realize that?”
Camilla blushed. “You—“
“—are just saying that? No, I’m not. Trust me on this.”
“…I…” Camilla mentally cursed herself—she had been working on the word “love” for awhile now, but it hadn’t seemed that important to her—of course, things changed when you truly and desperately wanted to say it! “…love you!” she finally cried out.
Gonzo smiled. “You’ve been working on that one for awhile, haven’t you? I love you too. And I promise that I’ll try and keep my distance from Miss Piggy, even though that was one painful boot out the door she gave me. Maybe I could get the same effect by—“
“And…” Camilla interrupted sternly.
“Yes, yes, and I’ll stop hitting on other chickens too,” said Gonzo, laughing. “With the other chickens though, it’s never serious. Never has been, never will be. You’re the one that stands out.”
Camilla stared at him, wondering why, and also wishing that the word “why” was in her spoken vocabulary. Note to self—“why” would probably be a good choice of word to work on next.
“What do you mean, ‘why’?” Gonzo looked shocked that Camilla would think that. “Do you realize how much different you are from the other chickens, Camilla? You can walk on a tightrope, you can juggle loaves of bread whilst and at the same time unicycling through an obstacle course, you can talk! I know it’s not much, but it’s far more than any other chicken can! You’ve got that same stubborn determination Miss Piggy has—yes, you do!—and that’s precisely one of the things about you that I love so much! And besides, you can put up with me—and not many other people can do that.”
If more people got to know you better, they would too, thought Camilla lovingly.
“Aaw, sweetie…” Gonzo hugged Camilla closely. “You know, Camilla,” he said slowly, “I always thought that if anyone ever DID understand me, then they’d be even more lost than I am… but gosh, you’re mentally balanced!”
Camilla laughed. That would normally be a compliment, but coming from you I can’t be too sure!
“Oh, it’s a compliment alright,” said Gonzo. “I mean, come on, Camilla! You could have any guy you wanted! Why do you stick with a freak like me?”
You’re NOT a freak! Camilla shouted in her mind. Besides, there aren’t a ton of guys lining up to date a chicken.
“But what about other roosters? Come on, I know that you think some of those cock-a-doodle-doo-ers are pretty sexy. Don’t deny it!”
Yes, I don’t deny it. But I don’t want just any old rooster… they’re all alike, you know? I was always different from all the other chickens… I never really felt comfortable with any of them. They all just seemed so… I don’t know… every other chicken I’ve ever known just had their mind on some trivial thing, never looking ahead, never looking at the big picture. And they were BORING. They were dull as dirt! I’m sure I am too, but I never wanted a relationship with any of them. And I assumed that I’d never have a relationship because of that… before I came to realize that inter-species relationships were more common than I thought. I saw you on the show before I actually tried out for it—I tried out for the show BECAUSE of you! You were so different from anyone else I’d ever seen and will ever see—I had this thought, this crazy thought, that if I got to know you I’d never be bored, that I might actually be understood… never in my wildest dreams did I think that you’d want ME in return…
Even though these had all been merely thoughts, Camilla took a deep breath, as though she had said that all very hurriedly. Did you understand all that? she asked silently. Sure, Gonzo understood her most of the time, but it would take a real sense of telepathy to understand that whole ramble…
“Have I ever not understood you?” asked Gonzo gently, hugging her tightly.
Camilla smiled and shook her head, clucking a bit now, but still feeling rather doubtful of Gonzo’s supposed mind-reading abilities.
“And by the way, babe, you’re not dull. You keep ME on my toes!”
Camilla’s jaw dropped—he knew she had thought THAT?
“You—you—“ she sputtered out.
“Don’t be so surprised!” laughed Gonzo. “I told you—I’ve always understood you, and you’ve always understood me, and that’s why we need each other so much, and why we’ve got each other!”
Camilla, feeling the warmth of love and being loved, snuggled down tighter into Gonzo’s chest. “I love you,” she said contentedly, thankful that she had finally learned how to say that oh-so-important phrase.
Gonzo stroked the feathers on Camilla’s face tenderly. “Wow, Camilla, did you look at the stars tonight?” he asked after a moment of silence, sounding mystified as he always did when talking about the stars or any strange, far-off place. “They’re so bright… even against the city lights… They’re so beautiful.” He turned and looked Camilla in the eyes. “Wow, they look even more beautiful reflected in their eyes!”
Camilla, from beneath her feathers, turned a deep fuchsia.
Gonzo took her wing in his hand. “Take you home?” he asked.
Camilla smiled.
“Yes.”