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Originally posted on ff.net. I thought I posted it here. Guess not (shrugs)...
Fraggle Cave was far from what was called the Rock. It had far more stalactites and stalagmites than Fraggle Rock, and it was filled with ferns and grasses and absolutely no flowers or berries at all.
The young Fraggle named Tan sighed as she stared sadly at the tiny infant Fraggle. Tan was one of the best launderers in Fraggle Cave, so the linens swaddling the infant Fraggle were exceptionally clean and crisp.
Her mate, a taller, more athletic male Fraggle by the name of Khaki, stood next to her and peered into the small nest formed from meticulously arranged grasses. He placed one hand on his mate’s back and shook his head. “We cannot deny it, Tan,” he said. He adjusted his tan hat. “This baby Fraggle can never live here. It must be abandoned.”
Tan nodded slightly, her pale yellow hair threatening to come out from under her tan hat. She looked at her mate, who was quickly climbing the career ladder in the Cave. He would be Mopping Manager within the season, they hoped. “Perhaps … with proper education … the child can find a nice job cleaning vegetables,” she said with a tinge of hope in her voice.
Khaki shook his head. “No, Tan,” he replied resolutely. “We must not threaten the Cave with untold partying. It would shake the very roots of our disciplined lives. It does not listen to us. All it wants to do is everything we hold taboo. It will not keep its hat on its head.” He tried to place a small dark brown cap on the infant’s head, but the child shook it off defiantly, its small red tuft of hair like a bright flame among the grays and browns of their small cove. He sighed. “It’s no use. We must think of the safety of the Cave first and foremost.” He turned from her and grabbed a mop. “It will be done the following morning.”
Tan frowned as her mate left. “It’s such a shame,” she said sadly. “It could be such a great launderer or mopper or vegetable scrubber, it loves the water so.”
The next morning, long after breakfast, a pale blue female Fraggle, carrying a toddler Fraggle with lavender skin and blue hair, was painting a small cavern.
“Baby!” cooed the Fraggle toddler in awe.
The adult female smiled and looked at her young daughter. “A baby, Mokey?” she asked dreamily. “Did you find a baby rock beetle?”
Mokey shook her head, kneeling down and pointing toward a small cliff. “Baby!” she shrieked cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement. “Baby, Momma, Baby!”
Mokey’s mother followed her toddler’s gaze, finally spying a bundled infant Fraggle that hummed absent-mindedly … despite its proximity to the edge of the cliff. Mokey’s mother’s heart raced. What Fraggle could abandon their own child?
An hour later the young Fraggle had been rescued, courtesy of the bravery of Matthew, an intrepid explorer with beige skin and graying hair who deftly used a thick vine to swing across the cavern and pick up the now crying infant.
“Here you go, Jasmine,” announced Matthew in a high-pitched gravelly voice as he dumped the crying and squirming infant in Mokey’s mother’s arms. “I’m glad I could be of some service.”
A female Fraggle with long pink hair and golden skin sighed dreamily. “My hero,” she gasped in admiration.
Matthew cleared his throat nervously, bowed to his cheering fans, and hastily retreated back to the Great Hall of the Rock.
Mokey strained to look into the new arrival’s face. She looked up at her mother. “Baby?” she asked worriedly.
Jasmine smiled and lowered the baby. “The baby is crying because it is sad. Perhaps if we name it, it will feel better,” she offered.
Mokey peeled back some of the cloth that swaddled the infant Fraggle and spied the tuft of red hair. Mokey’s eyes widened in an epiphany.
Everyone was silent as they awaited Mokey’s name for the baby Fraggle.
And the baby continued to cry.
“Mokey,” Jasmine crooned to try to get Mokey to make up her mind, “have you thought of a good name?”
Mokey nodded excitedly. “Blue!”
Jasmine’s jaw dropped. “Why name it blue?”
“Compa-ment’ry,” the toddler replied, jumping up and down.
Jasmine chuckled. “Well, technically, green is the complementary color, my dear. Let’s call her Red, shall we?”
Mokey laughed and jumped up and down, offering to collect every red thing she could find for her new adopted sister, repeating “Red” all the way back to the Great Hall.
Fraggle Cave was far from what was called the Rock. It had far more stalactites and stalagmites than Fraggle Rock, and it was filled with ferns and grasses and absolutely no flowers or berries at all.
The young Fraggle named Tan sighed as she stared sadly at the tiny infant Fraggle. Tan was one of the best launderers in Fraggle Cave, so the linens swaddling the infant Fraggle were exceptionally clean and crisp.
Her mate, a taller, more athletic male Fraggle by the name of Khaki, stood next to her and peered into the small nest formed from meticulously arranged grasses. He placed one hand on his mate’s back and shook his head. “We cannot deny it, Tan,” he said. He adjusted his tan hat. “This baby Fraggle can never live here. It must be abandoned.”
Tan nodded slightly, her pale yellow hair threatening to come out from under her tan hat. She looked at her mate, who was quickly climbing the career ladder in the Cave. He would be Mopping Manager within the season, they hoped. “Perhaps … with proper education … the child can find a nice job cleaning vegetables,” she said with a tinge of hope in her voice.
Khaki shook his head. “No, Tan,” he replied resolutely. “We must not threaten the Cave with untold partying. It would shake the very roots of our disciplined lives. It does not listen to us. All it wants to do is everything we hold taboo. It will not keep its hat on its head.” He tried to place a small dark brown cap on the infant’s head, but the child shook it off defiantly, its small red tuft of hair like a bright flame among the grays and browns of their small cove. He sighed. “It’s no use. We must think of the safety of the Cave first and foremost.” He turned from her and grabbed a mop. “It will be done the following morning.”
Tan frowned as her mate left. “It’s such a shame,” she said sadly. “It could be such a great launderer or mopper or vegetable scrubber, it loves the water so.”
The next morning, long after breakfast, a pale blue female Fraggle, carrying a toddler Fraggle with lavender skin and blue hair, was painting a small cavern.
“Baby!” cooed the Fraggle toddler in awe.
The adult female smiled and looked at her young daughter. “A baby, Mokey?” she asked dreamily. “Did you find a baby rock beetle?”
Mokey shook her head, kneeling down and pointing toward a small cliff. “Baby!” she shrieked cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement. “Baby, Momma, Baby!”
Mokey’s mother followed her toddler’s gaze, finally spying a bundled infant Fraggle that hummed absent-mindedly … despite its proximity to the edge of the cliff. Mokey’s mother’s heart raced. What Fraggle could abandon their own child?
An hour later the young Fraggle had been rescued, courtesy of the bravery of Matthew, an intrepid explorer with beige skin and graying hair who deftly used a thick vine to swing across the cavern and pick up the now crying infant.
“Here you go, Jasmine,” announced Matthew in a high-pitched gravelly voice as he dumped the crying and squirming infant in Mokey’s mother’s arms. “I’m glad I could be of some service.”
A female Fraggle with long pink hair and golden skin sighed dreamily. “My hero,” she gasped in admiration.
Matthew cleared his throat nervously, bowed to his cheering fans, and hastily retreated back to the Great Hall of the Rock.
Mokey strained to look into the new arrival’s face. She looked up at her mother. “Baby?” she asked worriedly.
Jasmine smiled and lowered the baby. “The baby is crying because it is sad. Perhaps if we name it, it will feel better,” she offered.
Mokey peeled back some of the cloth that swaddled the infant Fraggle and spied the tuft of red hair. Mokey’s eyes widened in an epiphany.
Everyone was silent as they awaited Mokey’s name for the baby Fraggle.
And the baby continued to cry.
“Mokey,” Jasmine crooned to try to get Mokey to make up her mind, “have you thought of a good name?”
Mokey nodded excitedly. “Blue!”
Jasmine’s jaw dropped. “Why name it blue?”
“Compa-ment’ry,” the toddler replied, jumping up and down.
Jasmine chuckled. “Well, technically, green is the complementary color, my dear. Let’s call her Red, shall we?”
Mokey laughed and jumped up and down, offering to collect every red thing she could find for her new adopted sister, repeating “Red” all the way back to the Great Hall.