theprawncracker
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Good morning everybody! I'm getting ready to head off to school, but I figured I'd go ahead and start up my next fan-fictional adventure before hand, since I'll have a butt-load of homework after. Anyway! I'm starting my fan-fic on the morning of September 11th in honor of the Fraggle Rock Season 3 box-set's release today, and also in memory of this solemn day. I hope you all enjoy my story!
Perfect Harmony
Chapter 1
The door to the bright and cluttered desert workshop opened. A furry grey dog’s eye peeked open at the entrant of the workshop. A tall, balding man wearing glasses and a sweater vest and carrying a large cardboard box pushed his way into the small living space.
"Sprocket, boy, get the door would you?" Doc asked his dog, Sprocket.
The aforementioned pooch grumbled and stuck out one of his back feet trying to reach the door.
"Come now, Sprocket," Doc said, closing the door on his own. "You try this same thing every day, you can’t reach the door from your bed."
Sprocket, oh so pleased with himself, chuckled lightly and repositioned himself in his bed.
"Heaven forbid you actually do anything to help out around here," Doc chided as he pulled out many random objects from his cardboard box.
Sprocket barked at Doc as the dog shot up out of his bed, arguing that he did indeed help out around here, but even dogs need to rest sometimes.
"Oh, forgive me, Sprockey," Doc said sarcastically. "I forgot about how much you do to contribute."
Sprocket nodded happily.
"After all it is you who creates all of these inventions–" Doc said, throwing his arms at his side, motioning to the clutter of things scattered around the workshop. "And cooks the meals, and visits Ned and Fluffenella on a weekly basis."
Sprocket frowned and began to argue his case through barks again.
"Alright, alright, Sprocket, that’s enough," Doc said. "By the way, has Gobo stopped by today?"
Sprocket muttered a few barks and fell down into his bed. He silently shook his head, and resumed his nap position.
"Funny," Doc said. "I thought he’d stop by in search of one of his Uncle Matt’s postcards– good thing we finally figured out who all of those were addressed to, eh, Sprocket?" Doc asked his dog.
Sprocket shrugged and rolled over.
"Yes, well," Doc said, "It’s not like we’ve received any of those postcards lately." Doc reached into his box and pulled out a hair-dryer. "I wonder what’s been keeping that uncle of his anyway? It must be, what? Two–three weeks since his last postcard?"
Sprocket blew air out of his mouth, rolling his eyes.
"Ah well, I’m sure he’s fine," Doc said. "I just wonder where that Gobo is."
>< >< >< >< ><
"That shot was in, and I won!" Gobo shouted.
"Oh, please, Gobo," Red argued. "Your last shot wasn't even close!"
"Shows how much you know, Red Fraggle," Gobo countered. "Even Large Marvin said that my shot was good!"
Red scoffed. "Marvin? He doesn't know the difference between a fair shot and fair food!"
Wembley ran to catch up with the two quarreling Fraggles. "Well, if you ask me, I think your shot was in, Gobo."
"Marvin was the judge, Red!" Gobo said, ignoring Wembley. "You can’t argue with that."
"Sure I can," Red said. "Especially when the judge doesn’t even know what sport he’s judging!"
"Give it up, Red. I won, and you know it." Gobo hopped down the stairs into he and Wembley’s room.
Red followed with Wembley in tow. "No way, I had you the entire time!"
"Well, if you ask me-" Wembley started.
"Yeah, you had me until I scored on you at the last second!" Gobo interrupted.
"We’ll see, Gobo Fraggle, we’ll see." Red put her face right up to Gobo’s, who leaned back, pulling his face back.
"Oh? We will, huh?" Gobo pushed his face forward, sending Red back.
Wembley watched the two argue back and forth like a ball in a tennis match. Silently Wembley wondered what tennis was.
"Yeah!" Red shouted. "We will! I challenge you to a rematch, and this time, Mokey will judge!"
"Fine," Gobo said. "Doesn’t matter who judges. Boober could judge for all I care- NO, a Doozer could judge, and I’d still beat you!"
"Why does it matter who judges?" Wembley asked. "The judge doesn’t play."
"Fine then," Red said, still ignoring Wembley. "We’ll have Mokey, Boober, and Cotterpin judge!"
"Good!" Gobo said. "The more the merrier!"
"Alright, see you then... then!" Red huffed, then left the room.
Gobo threw his stuff onto his bed angrily. "That Red Fraggle-" he growled. "She just makes me so- ugh!"
Wembley scratched his head. It was amazing watching those two argue. In all the Rock, Red and Gobo were definitely the two most confrontational Fraggles, if only just between each other.
"Now where is Wembley?" Gobo asked himself. "I told him he could come with me to see Doc today, and get Uncle Traveling Matt’s postcard."
"Uh, Gobo, I’m right here," Wembley said.
Gobo looked at his best friend. "Oh. Sorry," Gobo apologized. "You just pop up out of nowhere, don’t ya Wembley?"
"No, not really," Wembley said. "I’ve been here all-"
"No matter," Gobo said. "Ready to go see Doc?"
"Well, sure Gobo, but-"
"Great! C’mon! I’ve got to tell Doc all about the game that I won." Gobo grabbed his guitar off the ledge and ran out of the room.
Wembley shrugged. "I guess I’ll just tell him about Cantus’ big visit later." He ran out of the room. "Hey, Gobo! Wait up!" he called.
Gobo was nearly halfway down the cavern leading up to Doc’s workshop. "Hurry up, will ya?" Gobo said.
Wembley caught up to his friend, gasping for breath. "Sorry," Wembley said.
"It’s alright Wembley," Gobo said, pulling his guitar over his shoulders. "Ya know," Gobo said. "Uncle Matt and I used to sing his song every time we’d explore the tunnels together."
"Yeah, I know," Wembley said. "You tell me it every time we explore the tunnels together."
"Oh yeah." Gobo laughed. "You don’t mind singing it again, do ya?"
"No Gobo, of course not," Wembley said. "I’m a Fraggle, there isn’t a song out there that I can’t sing over and over and over and-"
"I get it Wembley, I get it." Gobo smirked. He began to strum his guitar, plucking the familiar strings to the same familiar tune. "Every day, the world begins again
Sunny skies or rain
Come and follow me," Gobo sang.
Wembley bounced along with the music. "Every sunrise shows me more and more
So much to explore
Come and follow me!"
"Every mornin’
Every day
Every evenin’
Callin’ us away," Gobo and Wembley harmonized.
"While the sun goes-"
"Hey, hey Gobo," Wembley interrupted. "Do you hear that?"
Gobo stopped his guitar and listened to the noises echoing of the cavern walls. It was faint, but, yes, it was there. A horn of sorts- no, a pipe. A pipe filling the cavern, filling the Rock with its melodious tune.
"I do Wembley! I do!" Gobo bounced gleefully. "You know what this means?"
"That I’ll never get to tell you that Cantus is coming to visit?" Wembley asked.
"No- well, yes, I guess, but it means that Cantus is-"
"Waiting for you to continue that song," a scratchy, yet comforting voice said from behind Gobo. An impeccable calm could be detected just from the tone of voice, and a serene quality filled the air whenever the voice spoke. Cantus had arrived.
"Me?" Gobo asked, in awe of the presence before him.
"Yes, you and yourself must finish that song," Cantus the Minstrel said to the young Fraggle.
"Oh, of course." Gobo picked up the tune again on his guitar. "Now, uh, where was I?"
"While the sun goes ‘round
I’ll still be found," Wembley sang, starting to finish.
Cantus dug in on his pipe, filling the air with the beautiful sound once more. As he played, the rest of the Minstrels filed into the cavern, each adding their own instrument to the song.
Gobo grinned. "Followin’ the sound
Somethin’s callin’ me."
"When the world goes
Drifitin’ back to bed
Memories in my head," Wembley sang.
"Wonders follow me," Gobo sang, putting all his heart into the verse.
"Every mornin’." Every Minstrel joined in the singing.
"Every day
Every evenin’
Callin’ us away."
"Once more," Cantus said.
"Every mornin’
Every day
Every evenin’
Callin’ us away."
Cantus watched as the two Fraggles and his Minstrel followers celebrated the song by jumping and laughing. The forever-serene Fraggle simply nodded and said, "Very nice. Another song I love to hear others love to hear."
Gobo walked up to Cantus calmly. "Thank you sir. But, if I may ask, why are you coming to visit us?"
"Yeah," Wembley said. "You only come on really special occasions."
"Mm." Cantus stroked his beard. "I cannot argue with that. Nor can I say that this occasion is an exception. However, I can say that this is an exceptional occasion. Soon enough, you will find out enough. For now I must meet with the World’s Oldest Fraggle."
"Oh, wow!" Wembley said. "It must be a really, really special occasion!"
"Yeah, now all that’s missing is the Trash Heap and we’d have gathered the greatest minds in the Fraggle universe!" Gobo said.
"That, or the strangest," Murray the Minstrel said, laughing.
"Do not doubt the strange," Cantus gently scolded his follower. "Do not fear the strange either. Nor should you fear to doubt the strange."
Murray looked around at the other Minstrels. "See what I mean?"
"Young Gobo Fraggle, take me to see the World’s Oldest, if you please," Cantus said.
"Oh, of course your musical-ness," Gobo said. "Follow me."
"We already sang that song," Wembley said.
Perfect Harmony
Chapter 1
The door to the bright and cluttered desert workshop opened. A furry grey dog’s eye peeked open at the entrant of the workshop. A tall, balding man wearing glasses and a sweater vest and carrying a large cardboard box pushed his way into the small living space.
"Sprocket, boy, get the door would you?" Doc asked his dog, Sprocket.
The aforementioned pooch grumbled and stuck out one of his back feet trying to reach the door.
"Come now, Sprocket," Doc said, closing the door on his own. "You try this same thing every day, you can’t reach the door from your bed."
Sprocket, oh so pleased with himself, chuckled lightly and repositioned himself in his bed.
"Heaven forbid you actually do anything to help out around here," Doc chided as he pulled out many random objects from his cardboard box.
Sprocket barked at Doc as the dog shot up out of his bed, arguing that he did indeed help out around here, but even dogs need to rest sometimes.
"Oh, forgive me, Sprockey," Doc said sarcastically. "I forgot about how much you do to contribute."
Sprocket nodded happily.
"After all it is you who creates all of these inventions–" Doc said, throwing his arms at his side, motioning to the clutter of things scattered around the workshop. "And cooks the meals, and visits Ned and Fluffenella on a weekly basis."
Sprocket frowned and began to argue his case through barks again.
"Alright, alright, Sprocket, that’s enough," Doc said. "By the way, has Gobo stopped by today?"
Sprocket muttered a few barks and fell down into his bed. He silently shook his head, and resumed his nap position.
"Funny," Doc said. "I thought he’d stop by in search of one of his Uncle Matt’s postcards– good thing we finally figured out who all of those were addressed to, eh, Sprocket?" Doc asked his dog.
Sprocket shrugged and rolled over.
"Yes, well," Doc said, "It’s not like we’ve received any of those postcards lately." Doc reached into his box and pulled out a hair-dryer. "I wonder what’s been keeping that uncle of his anyway? It must be, what? Two–three weeks since his last postcard?"
Sprocket blew air out of his mouth, rolling his eyes.
"Ah well, I’m sure he’s fine," Doc said. "I just wonder where that Gobo is."
>< >< >< >< ><
"That shot was in, and I won!" Gobo shouted.
"Oh, please, Gobo," Red argued. "Your last shot wasn't even close!"
"Shows how much you know, Red Fraggle," Gobo countered. "Even Large Marvin said that my shot was good!"
Red scoffed. "Marvin? He doesn't know the difference between a fair shot and fair food!"
Wembley ran to catch up with the two quarreling Fraggles. "Well, if you ask me, I think your shot was in, Gobo."
"Marvin was the judge, Red!" Gobo said, ignoring Wembley. "You can’t argue with that."
"Sure I can," Red said. "Especially when the judge doesn’t even know what sport he’s judging!"
"Give it up, Red. I won, and you know it." Gobo hopped down the stairs into he and Wembley’s room.
Red followed with Wembley in tow. "No way, I had you the entire time!"
"Well, if you ask me-" Wembley started.
"Yeah, you had me until I scored on you at the last second!" Gobo interrupted.
"We’ll see, Gobo Fraggle, we’ll see." Red put her face right up to Gobo’s, who leaned back, pulling his face back.
"Oh? We will, huh?" Gobo pushed his face forward, sending Red back.
Wembley watched the two argue back and forth like a ball in a tennis match. Silently Wembley wondered what tennis was.
"Yeah!" Red shouted. "We will! I challenge you to a rematch, and this time, Mokey will judge!"
"Fine," Gobo said. "Doesn’t matter who judges. Boober could judge for all I care- NO, a Doozer could judge, and I’d still beat you!"
"Why does it matter who judges?" Wembley asked. "The judge doesn’t play."
"Fine then," Red said, still ignoring Wembley. "We’ll have Mokey, Boober, and Cotterpin judge!"
"Good!" Gobo said. "The more the merrier!"
"Alright, see you then... then!" Red huffed, then left the room.
Gobo threw his stuff onto his bed angrily. "That Red Fraggle-" he growled. "She just makes me so- ugh!"
Wembley scratched his head. It was amazing watching those two argue. In all the Rock, Red and Gobo were definitely the two most confrontational Fraggles, if only just between each other.
"Now where is Wembley?" Gobo asked himself. "I told him he could come with me to see Doc today, and get Uncle Traveling Matt’s postcard."
"Uh, Gobo, I’m right here," Wembley said.
Gobo looked at his best friend. "Oh. Sorry," Gobo apologized. "You just pop up out of nowhere, don’t ya Wembley?"
"No, not really," Wembley said. "I’ve been here all-"
"No matter," Gobo said. "Ready to go see Doc?"
"Well, sure Gobo, but-"
"Great! C’mon! I’ve got to tell Doc all about the game that I won." Gobo grabbed his guitar off the ledge and ran out of the room.
Wembley shrugged. "I guess I’ll just tell him about Cantus’ big visit later." He ran out of the room. "Hey, Gobo! Wait up!" he called.
Gobo was nearly halfway down the cavern leading up to Doc’s workshop. "Hurry up, will ya?" Gobo said.
Wembley caught up to his friend, gasping for breath. "Sorry," Wembley said.
"It’s alright Wembley," Gobo said, pulling his guitar over his shoulders. "Ya know," Gobo said. "Uncle Matt and I used to sing his song every time we’d explore the tunnels together."
"Yeah, I know," Wembley said. "You tell me it every time we explore the tunnels together."
"Oh yeah." Gobo laughed. "You don’t mind singing it again, do ya?"
"No Gobo, of course not," Wembley said. "I’m a Fraggle, there isn’t a song out there that I can’t sing over and over and over and-"
"I get it Wembley, I get it." Gobo smirked. He began to strum his guitar, plucking the familiar strings to the same familiar tune. "Every day, the world begins again
Sunny skies or rain
Come and follow me," Gobo sang.
Wembley bounced along with the music. "Every sunrise shows me more and more
So much to explore
Come and follow me!"
"Every mornin’
Every day
Every evenin’
Callin’ us away," Gobo and Wembley harmonized.
"While the sun goes-"
"Hey, hey Gobo," Wembley interrupted. "Do you hear that?"
Gobo stopped his guitar and listened to the noises echoing of the cavern walls. It was faint, but, yes, it was there. A horn of sorts- no, a pipe. A pipe filling the cavern, filling the Rock with its melodious tune.
"I do Wembley! I do!" Gobo bounced gleefully. "You know what this means?"
"That I’ll never get to tell you that Cantus is coming to visit?" Wembley asked.
"No- well, yes, I guess, but it means that Cantus is-"
"Waiting for you to continue that song," a scratchy, yet comforting voice said from behind Gobo. An impeccable calm could be detected just from the tone of voice, and a serene quality filled the air whenever the voice spoke. Cantus had arrived.
"Me?" Gobo asked, in awe of the presence before him.
"Yes, you and yourself must finish that song," Cantus the Minstrel said to the young Fraggle.
"Oh, of course." Gobo picked up the tune again on his guitar. "Now, uh, where was I?"
"While the sun goes ‘round
I’ll still be found," Wembley sang, starting to finish.
Cantus dug in on his pipe, filling the air with the beautiful sound once more. As he played, the rest of the Minstrels filed into the cavern, each adding their own instrument to the song.
Gobo grinned. "Followin’ the sound
Somethin’s callin’ me."
"When the world goes
Drifitin’ back to bed
Memories in my head," Wembley sang.
"Wonders follow me," Gobo sang, putting all his heart into the verse.
"Every mornin’." Every Minstrel joined in the singing.
"Every day
Every evenin’
Callin’ us away."
"Once more," Cantus said.
"Every mornin’
Every day
Every evenin’
Callin’ us away."
Cantus watched as the two Fraggles and his Minstrel followers celebrated the song by jumping and laughing. The forever-serene Fraggle simply nodded and said, "Very nice. Another song I love to hear others love to hear."
Gobo walked up to Cantus calmly. "Thank you sir. But, if I may ask, why are you coming to visit us?"
"Yeah," Wembley said. "You only come on really special occasions."
"Mm." Cantus stroked his beard. "I cannot argue with that. Nor can I say that this occasion is an exception. However, I can say that this is an exceptional occasion. Soon enough, you will find out enough. For now I must meet with the World’s Oldest Fraggle."
"Oh, wow!" Wembley said. "It must be a really, really special occasion!"
"Yeah, now all that’s missing is the Trash Heap and we’d have gathered the greatest minds in the Fraggle universe!" Gobo said.
"That, or the strangest," Murray the Minstrel said, laughing.
"Do not doubt the strange," Cantus gently scolded his follower. "Do not fear the strange either. Nor should you fear to doubt the strange."
Murray looked around at the other Minstrels. "See what I mean?"
"Young Gobo Fraggle, take me to see the World’s Oldest, if you please," Cantus said.
"Oh, of course your musical-ness," Gobo said. "Follow me."
"We already sang that song," Wembley said.