Flippersteps in the Sand

[The Count]

Closet? Well, just so long as it's not the same one Bo keeps locking himself in.
Please, just post some more... It'll feel good.

 

[TogetherAgain]

Is coming, is coming, got two hands only! And I even took drastic measures. I changed my mind about what happens in this chapter. Just ask Prawnie and Layla about my drastic measures... I crossed out an entire page worth in my notebook. <Sigh.> But anyway!

 

[theprawncracker]

Si si! Entire pages crossed out! Dios mio it was incredible! I grabbed my pit helmet and headed to the bomb shelter.

But seriously...Wait...Seriously? Me...Nah...

 

[The Count]

Nooooo! Lisa, next time that happens... Don't desecrate the sanctity that is your fanfic notebook! Just label it as "Deleted Scene", move on, and post it at the end of the story... If we ever get there that is.
Awaiting updates.

 

[Java]

By crossing out, you mean you did it in the legal way and only drew a line through the page so you can still read it. And then you dated, timed and initialed it right? Right?

Oh, wait, I've been doing to much documentation. That's for nursing, not for fan-fics.

But one can hope, right?

 

[Leyla]

It's hard to see it go, I realise. We love such things, and they mean so much to us... but it's important to see past the pain and into the big picture. When it's gone, then they'll be nothing to stand in the way of all the ushy gushy that's just bursting to get out.

And yes, I am talking about Lisa's rock and closet.


Also her page cutting.

 

[christyb]

I got behind on Flippersteps! I deserved to be drawn and quartered. Of course if you did that to me Lisa then no one would ever find out what happened to the EM Band..and Frank? Oh man you haven't lived until you see what I've got planned for him and oh yes did I mention that I was evil? Anyways, I loved these past few chapters that I just caught up on. Great job! Keep it coming.

 

[TogetherAgain]

You guys are so lucky. Really. You are swimming in luck.

I took some drastic measures, see.

And then I got insomnia.

You are SWIMMING in luck.

<removes various sofas and chairs that seem to have accumulated in front of closet door> <opens closet door> <removes rock> <opens cage> <attaches chain>

Time to confess-

Yes. I am ushy-gushy.

 

[TogetherAgain]

Chapter Thirty-Five

Two Days Later
July 6, 1975

It was an old, abandoned theater. It stood on Market Central Road, proud of its state of disrepair. According to the local legend, there had been a fire many years ago, destroying everything inside. Some said that the theater’s resident phantom had started that fateful blaze, in accordance to his vow that no one would ever succeed in that theater. Some said that on dark nights, they had seen the phantom on the theater’s roof. Once a man had claimed that on the third Wednesday of March, he had seen the phantom on the roof and heard him muttering something about lasagna. But no one believed that man.

The theater had not been touched since the fire. The sign, covered with mold and dead bugs and a dozen bird’s nests, still proclaimed that it was the Benny Vandergast Memorial Theater.

No one remembered who Benny Vandergast was, or why a theater had been named for him. Some thought Benny Vandergast might be the phantom, but no one was sure why a phantom wouldn’t want a theater to succeed when it had been named for him.

Kermit had heard the legends. He didn’t believe them.

The group was gathered in front of the rotting wooden doors. This would be the home of their show.

The slowly scanned the building from the sidewalk to the roof and back.

“Baw…” Camilla breathed.

The others nodded in agreement.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” Jerry Nelson observed.

No one moved.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Gonzo asked eagerly.

“The key,” Kermit said.

Jim glanced at his watch. “Mr. Grosse should be here soon,” he said.

“Who’s Mr. Grosse?” Fozzie asked.

“The owner,” Kermit said.

They heard the light thudding of approaching footsteps and turned to see who it was.

A redheaded yellowish kid with glasses was running towards them. “Mr. Jim Henson?” he called out. “Mr. Kermit the Frog?”

“That’s us,” Jim said as he and Kermit stepped forward.

The kid came to a stop in front of them. “I’m Scooter,” he said. “My uncle, J. P. Grosse sent me here. He said he can’t come because he’s trying to buy a high school or something. But anyways-“ He opened his palms and revealed one key in each. “He said this is for Mr. Henson and this is for Mr. Kermit.” He jerked forward his right hand, and then his left. “Or wait no- this is for Mr. Henson and this is for Mr. Kermit.” He jerked forward his left hand, and then his right. “Well wait.” He looked at his left hand. “Maybe this one was for Mr. Kermit and that one was-“

“Listen, Kid,” Kermit interrupted, “Is there any difference between the two keys?”

The kid examined his hands. “Well, no, I don’t think so, “ he said.

“Fine,” Kermit said, and he took the right-hand key. Jim took the left.

“Whoa wait a minute!” Scooter said. “I remember who gets which key now! You guys need to switch!”

“I don’t think it matters much,” Jim said with a wink.

“Oh, right,” Scooter said. “Well, I still think you should switch keys.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake!” Kermit scrunched up his face and switched keys with Jim.

Jim was pinching his lips together to hold back a chuckle. He gestured towards the door. “After you, Kermit.”

Kermit stepped up to the door importantly. He held out the key, paused, and turned to smile at his friends.

They smiled back, eyes suddenly alight with excitement and anticipation.

He looked at the door, tried to put the key in the lock, then forced the key into the lock, turned it, and opened the door.

The door crumbled.

Kermit found himself standing in a pile of rubble, holding the doorknob with the key still in the lock. “Um…”

“Cool!”

“Uh oh.”

“Oh, brother…”

“Now that’s what I call a shattering entrance.”

“Looks like we’ve got a little more work than we thought.”

“A little?”

“Well…”

“We’ll order new doors.”

“Should we try to match the other doors?”

“Let’s check something first.” Jim went to the other set of double doors, unlocked it, and pushed both doors open at once.

They both crumbled.

Jim playfully kicked at a pile of rubble. “No need to match the old doors,” he said.

“All right, let’s see what else we need to do!” Kermit said enthusiastically. “Come on, guys!”

They headed into the theater, carefully stepping over what remained of the doors.

Scooter followed behind the group. “Hey guys?” he called. “Uh, Mr. Henson? Mr. Kermit? Wait! There’s more keys…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Three Weeks Later
July 27, 1975

The door guys were installing doors. The carpet guys were installing carpet. The light guys were installing lights. The seat guys were installing seats. The curtain guys were installing curtains. The paint guys were painting.

From his vantage point at upstage center, Kermit looked around, satisfied that the theater was turning into their theater. Slowly but surely, The Benny Vandergast Memorial Theater was becoming The Muppet Theater.

And, as he thought smugly to himself, there was no ghost in sight. So perhaps he was right and the legends were wrong.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Four Days Later
July 31, 1975

It was the grand opening of Midnight’s Moon, a place where the band would play just about any style of music you could think of, and was very likely to follow “Love Me Do” with “Old Black Magic” and “I Get Around.” Very few songs were off limits. The huge dance floor was certainly the main attraction, but the black tablecloths and matching chairs had their own appeal, especially when a steaming tray of food floated by. A glamorous staircase swept up from a corner of the dance floor to a semi-circular bar that looked over the entire room. It was lined by a single row of black cushioned stools that were just comfortable enough to enjoy a drink.

One drink, and one drink only, as Miss Piggy was reluctantly discovering. Although, perhaps she would not have thought so if she had sipped at anything stronger than a pristine glass of water. Clearly, her companion was perfectly comfortable. Was this his fourth glass of wine, or his fifth?

Kermit had made it perfectly clear to her that he had a date. She had demanded a name, and he had given one, but she couldn’t remember it now. Still, she was not about to go to the grand opening of Midnight’s Moon alone, and not going at all was unthinkable. So here she was, in a red dress made for dancing, sitting at the bar with a dark-haired, well-dressed man named Zack, who had not looked at her since he sat down at the bar. It was not the evening she had hoped for. At least the bartender was cute. Still, she couldn’t dance with the bartender.

“Zack?” she piped up, “Aren’t we going to dance?”

He glanced at her, and took another sip of his wine.

“Zack?” she tried again. “Vous promised to dance with moi.” Nothing. “You could at least buy me a drink,” she grumbled.

He glared at her. “Shut up, pig,” he muttered.

She leaned menacingly close to him. “What did you say?”

“I said, shut up!” His hand snapped across her snout, tossing her back, but not hard enough to knock her off her stool.

She slowly turned to glare at him. “HI-YA!” A well-aimed karate chop knocked him off of his stool.

He stumbled, regained his balance, and leveled his furious eyes on her. “You-“ His hand swung at her again, but it was stopped by another hand.

“Don’t you know better than to hit a lady?” the voice that owned the hand scolded.

Zack turned to the voice and found himself looking at a short green figure. “What’s it to you?” he snarled.

The frog was unfazed. “Oh I was just saying that if you hit her again, you’ll be in a lot more trouble than you’re bargaining for.”

Zack jerked his hand away, accidentally knocking over and breaking his glass. The bartender calmly soaked up the wine and swept away the broken glass.

“Well aren’t you going to get me another glass?” Zack snapped at him.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the manager has requested that I stop serving you alcohol,” the bartender replied. “But would you like some coffee, or a glass of water, perhaps?” Zack shook his head, angry and dizzy. “In that case, sir, might I suggest you have a seat at a table, and a waitress will be with you shortly. We really have some excellent food- Michael, would you escort this man to a table?” The bartender signaled to another employee, who promptly led Zack away.

Miss Piggy allowed her anger to cool slightly before turning her critical eyes to the figure who had stopped Zack’s hand. He was watching her apprehensively. “If you’re expecting a thank you, don’t,” she said. “One, I could have handled him. Two, now there’s no one to buy me a drink. And three, I thought vous had a date.”

Kermit the Frog somewhat sheepishly slid onto the stool next to her. “I did,” he said. He gestured half-heartedly to a table below. “But we ran into her ex-boyfriend, and apparently she would rather argue with him than dance with me.”

“She walked out on you,” Miss Piggy observed.

“Technically she didn’t do any walking,” Kermit teased. “I did that for her.”

“So you walked out on her,” she turned away in a light snub.

“Well she kind of asked me to,” Kermit said.

She whirled around to face him, suddenly sympathetic- or at least pretending to be. “She kicked you out?”

“Well-“

“Oh, Kermie, you can’t let her treat you like that!”

He scrunched up his face. “Well, what was I supposed to do? Stand there and listen to them argue?”

“No, silly, show her what she’s missing! Get a new dance partner and go tear up the floor!”

He propped his elbow up on the bar. “And just where might I find a new dance partner?” he said. “I suppose you wouldn’t be interested, since I already ruined your evening with that- whatever his name was.”

“Zack,” she said. “But if you buy me a drink, I’ll dance with you, and you can show that girl what she’s missing. Deal?” She spoke and acted as calmly as if she were discussing the price of cream cheese.

“I guess,” Kermit said. “But she’ll probably be leaving soon, anyways.”

“Well then, we’ll dance first.” Miss Piggy gracefully stood up, and Kermit followed suit. He took her hand and led her down the stairs to the dance floor.

Miss Piggy had to admit she was excited, but she was also nervous. She had never danced with Kermit before, or even seen him dance. She hoped he was good, because she was not about to make a fool of herself. But if he was wondering the same thing about her, he had the harder position. He had to guess how to lead.

He was, in fact, wondering that exactly, and hoping he wasn’t about to get his flippers smashed. What kind of dancer was she? He decided he would start simple, and proceed to more advanced moves until he got hurt.

They took their places in the center of the floor as the next song began. “One two three o’clock, four o’clock rock. Five six seven o’clock, eight o’clock rock. Nine ten eleven o’clock, twelve o’clock rock we’re gonna rock, around, the clock tonight…”

The most basic of steps was vaguely entertaining to Miss Piggy, if it was the best her partner could do. But judging by the proficiency with which Kermit executed the steps, he could do a lot better. In fact, he was bored. She met his eyes and, still following his lead, did a more complicated form of the same step.

It was a direct challenge. Without saying a word, she had declared herself the better dancer.

Yeah, right, he thought. He accepted the challenge.

They transformed from dance partners to dance competitors. They dominated the floor with spins, twists, twirls, and increasingly difficult steps. Each time he introduced a harder step, she perfected it, and the look in her eye asked, Is that all you’ve got?

You wish it was, his eyes answered. But in reality, he was running out of skill to match with hers, and she was wondering if he would in fact dance beyond her ability.

At last, she thought, A dance partner who can actually dance.

Finally, he thought, Someone who can actually be a challenge to dance with.

The competition had reached a stalemate, but they both refused to give up. They danced aggressively at the highest skill they could imitate, each determined to show the other who was the better dancer.

As the song spun to an end, Kermit took a risk and flung the pig into a dip. She felt herself fall a little too far, and gasped, but he grabbed her close at the last second- a little closer than he had intended, and she noticed. They could both feel something change. But no one on the floor noticed that the dip had almost been fumbled.

“We’re gonna slow things down a bit, folks,” the bandleader announced as Kermit and Miss Piggy gently straightened up.

He caught her gaze and tried to fight off the trance that was starting to overwhelm him. “Um- did you want me to buy you that drink now?”

She stared at him, entranced. “What drink?” she whispered.

He gulped, surrendered to her mesmerizing eyes. Then they were holding hands, her arm was around his neck, his hand was on her waist, and they were slow dancing. Simple steps sufficed them now. They obliviously pulled closer to each other.

Music floated through the air. “I’ve gotten used to hearing you say, ‘good morning’ every day…”

She resisted one temptation by surrendering to another- she put her head on his shoulder instead of kissing him.

Her silky gold curls brushed his collar first. He straightened up some more as tingles ran over his spine. Then her cheek touched, and he caught his breath as the scent of her skin conquered that of her perfume. Irresistible… He lightly pressed his face into her hair, letting her scent overwhelm him.

They pulled each other unbelievably close. It was a slice of paradise. Neither of them wanted the feeling to end, but the song was drawing to a close. By some silent, unwritten rule, they were certain to spend the rest of the night together on the dance floor, embraced in the magic of each song.

But it was not to be so. Kermit gave her a small squeeze. “Piggy?” he murmured.

“Mm?”

“I… I can’t stay out late tonight,” he said.

She tilted her head to look at him without losing the pillow of his shoulder. “No?” she whispered sadly.

“Well, I- I’m going back to the swamp tomorrow,” he quietly explained. “You see I promised my little nephew Robin that he could come in town- he visits sometimes. So I have to go pick him up from the swamp. The train leaves early tomorrow morning, so… I’d like to get to bed early.”

She listened with mournful eyes. “So you’re going home now?” she whispered.

“Oh I’m not going home for a while,” he said with a smile. “I just thought you should know that I can’t stay out all night.”

She smiled. “Oh,” she said cheerfully. “How very considerate of vous.”

He tucked his face close to hers and let their cheeks brush. Then a new song began, he spun her away and back, and they relished a faster tempo. This time, they danced with each other instead of against each other- not that anyone else could tell the difference.

 

[Ruahnna]

Okay, now I'm happy. We finally got a little pro-activity on the part of the frog, and a little snuggling, to boot! (Which Piggy's likely to do if you disappoint her.) And we get to see Piggy strutting her stuff, annoyed, supremely indifferent, indignant, radiant and--dare I hope--happy and peaceful in Kermit's embrace. Well, well, well. I'm can rest easy now, too.
Lovely, dear--lovely, lovely. Keep it coming.