The green seedlings of the Gorg's garden reached toward the the first rays of the sun from their soggy bed as in the distance the tell tale clinking of cans and bottles of an just awaking encanted trash heap rang like a series of morning bells.
But within the halls of the crumbling castle of the gorgs, things where far from being in the same cheerful mood as the fraggle homeland or even its' own trash.
In fact at that very moment, as the gorg known as Junior sped out of the kitchen wide eyed, he would have been more than happy to trade in all his gorgdom for a two foot height and a fuzzy tail tuff.
"I can't believe it!" The highborn and well educated voice that was chasing him began in a low tone.
Junior stood behind the hat rack and then lifted his head up just eye level below his fathers' best Sunday cap , zipped away to the side.
"I simply cannot conceive it…" The voice continued, as Junior, silently cursing the wind retention of his baggy patched sweatshirt, ran to the other side.
The peaceful scene of his mother knitting and his father holding the yarn between his large purple fingers in two cozy chairs kitty -corner from one another was barely broken.
"That my husband, to which I have dedicated all my years of most radiate beauty…" The voice rattled on, and Junior lifted up the visor of the suit of armor on the wall, realving is oversized nose.
"Bore a child…" The voice continued taking on the rough edge of Outer Space big-rig driver at the last word, this time followed by loud footsteps.
Junior zipped the other way again, somehow having slipped from the armor in record time, fueled by pure fear.
"Watch out Daddy, she's gotta blow!" The young gorg yelled, doing a astounding leap and diving behind his fathers' easy chair.
"Junior, what in sam-hill is going on?" Pa gorg asked, a cross looked drawing down his purple bread.
"My husband grows..defective radishes!" The voice wailed in full blown crying trucker-ese.
The defeated looking from of Missy Gorg, her giantic glasses lopsided over tear worn eyes looked as if she had just fought a grand culinary battle and lost.
Her once fine sun dress was ripped and stained with splatters of red goo that trailed all the way down to the still half full mixing bowl in her right hand. Tiny patches of her long blonde, yarn like hair, smoldered completing the picture of total ruin as she lifted up the offending half chopped radish by its' wilted top….
Or at least, seemed to lift it..somehow..as her dress sleeve appeared to be completely hollow, the radish hovering in mid-air.
"He does what?" Pa Gorg snapped in surprise, letting the yarn loops fall to the floor as Ma gasped in horror.
He quickly threw a glare so powerful behind the chair that there was no room to hide anymore, forcing his son to stand up wearing his best 'I'm sorry' smile.
"Just look at my hand, just look at it!" Missy said, dropping the bowl and radish and waving her arms.
"Aw, I'd love to Artichokeheart, but ..I can't." Junior said with a shrug, looking at the empty sleeve with interest.
"Oh dear, let mother look at it Missy.." Ma Gorg said, reaching out to turn her daughter in laws hand over again and again.
"Maybe if you hold it up ta the light…" Junior suggested, and was meant with two instantly silencing looks.
"Are you sure you sure you made the beauty cream just as the book says?" Ma asked.
"It's a simple formula of two parts organic to one part mysticacid. I 've made it a hundred times. Why, only an imbecile would be able to ruin the elements that give the mixture proper cohesion…"
Missy reached to pick up her infant son from his crib, bouncing him gently against her shoulder with the support of a unseen hand as she grabbed Juniors' ear with the other.
"And this would be him."
"Wait a minute, hold everything, do you mean the radishes aren't workn'?"
Pa said, braking from a blank stare as his whole family froze in disbelief.
Missy let go of of her husband's ear, flinging her one good arm up with a groan.
"Why this is a disaster! This is worst than worst!" Pa gorg fumed as he began to stomp from end of room to the other." Not just for us, but for my little grand baby…"
"Esquire , Esquire, my hopes could not be higher
The grand dreams, the grand schemes to which you could aspire!
But alast, alast, to never come to pass, because your skin, so light and thin might be as easy to see…
As glass, as glass…! "
Pa gorg stopped singing, tickling under the purple chin of his grandson before going back to pacing.
" This has never happened to the fields of a gorg garden, we've always been..good at …"
"Since the dynasty of the Most Honorable King Gorgus the Great."Missy finished, giving her son a bottle.
"Wait a minute…Ma, how many years ago was Juniors'..coronation?" Pa gorg asked.
"Twelve years to the day, Pa, I..remember he looked so handsome in his robe…" Ma replied, ending in a sudden attack of tears that sent her fishing for a handkerchief.
"This has never happen since..but before..where's my book?" Pa yelled, his eyebrows drawn down so far they nearly met in the center.
"Oh gosh Missy, I hate when Pa gets that look.." Junior whispered behind a hand.
"It always does mean something regrettable on your account doesn't it?" Missy said, in a tone close to sympathy.
"Yup."
The oversized leatherbound history book of the gorgs was heaved onto the tabletop, its thousands of yellow parchment pages making up the combined depth of two unabridged dictornaries laid cover to cover.
Pa flipped open the thick leather cover, turning to a page near the beginning, where a handpainted picture of a rolling countryside was protected under a thin piece of tissue paper.
"Here it is…
The gorgs in the darkened age were …."
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Somewhere, in a far of time and place, a tiny green radish top grew from the pitch black soil of a forest floor. The tree branches danced across the meager spot of color as a fluffy brown rabbit hopped over to the plant, perking its ears before carefully putting the tender leafs been its teeth.
Suddenly the unnatural sound of running footsteps sent the bunny leaping for cover, forgetting all about its dinner.
The sound stopped almost as quickly as it had began as the tree shadows played over the plant once more, this time set to the sound of heavy breathing in place of crickets chirping.
With a frilly of flying dirt the radish mysteriously dung itself from the earth and hovered to be seen clearly in the moonlight..the breathing sound stopping for only a moment…as the plants green stem all at once turned to brown and crumbled, its once bright red bulb a sickly white.
The rotten radish fell to the ground with a hard thump, its' bulb rolling slowly to the edge of a long brown traveling cape.
The small thin traveler looked down at the radish from within the shadows of his hood, bending down to pick it up with a gloved hand as he stepped forward to the hole. From within the folds of his cape, the stranger produced a ringed silver crown nearly as big as himself, standing upon tip toe to cast it into the air…
Where the crown hovered in place…As without a sound, the shape of a young wild-eyed, shaggy furred, light brown gorg faded into being below it, wearing nothing but the crown now placed squarely upon the center of his head where he was kneeing, his hands still covered in dirt.
The stranger bowed to the awe stuck giant, his voice ringing with a power much larger than his height.
"He who shall be king."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
" Juniooor!" Pa gorg screamed, his bloodshot eyes drilling imaginary holes into his sons' own.
"Y..yes..Daddy?" Junior chirped, starting to step steadily backward.
"All those years ago, when you did your big fancy speech about no more kings…" Pa began, poking him in the chest and driving him back farther.
"Your speech about what? You mean I'm not going to be…?" Missy stammered in shock.
"We were waiting for the right time to tell you dear." Ma Gorg said gently, patting her on the hand.
"..and the universe being all big and all that flim-flam, when you threw away the crown…"
The former kings' brow met his sons' own as the room behind them grew deadly silent.
"You did go and get it back didn't you?"
The answer, when it came, was almost too soft for even a fraggle to hear.
"…No?"
"Junior you..you dummy!" Two voices and one very unhappy sounding baby howl thundered, sending Junior Gorg tumbling head over heels out of the door and plowing face first into his newly planted petunias.
The sound of the door opening again made Junior look up, even though his mother was trying very hard not to do the same.
"Even..you Ma?"
"We've never had much..." The smaller pink gorg began, her voice barely carrying over her large nose. "But we were gorg..we are gorg. I just wanted my little baby to always know that."
"Aw..Mommy..I do..I.." Juniors childlike voice quailed.
"Do you?" Came the simple reply as it faded into muffled tears behind the sound of closing castle doors.
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Sam and Friends Book
. If anything...You know how Disney movies always have a mascot or two? It's a little like that ^.^.
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. ...Not that she had much of a choice
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