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Kermie's Girl (ushy-gushy fanfic)

Leyla

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Ah, done all the craziness, now to sit back and enjoy another lovely addition to your story.

Okay, I have to start with the end... Kermit insists. His reaction is absolutely perfect. He wants to protect her! I mean, that's just so Kermity of him. I love that frog. I think I actually swooned about eight times during this scene. Wow, that last line though, is just... well, it packs a huge emotional punch. I'm so caught up in what's going to happen... I'm so worried about both of them, poor darlings. Ah, I'm hooked, Ruahnna.

“Actually,” Kermit said dryly, letting his snarky side out on a short leash, “most people won’t, but I don’t care about that. I care about you.”
And.... melt! I love Kermit's snarky side! (And the word snarky. You have a great vocabulary, makes this so much fun to read.) Then, of course you pull out the, "I don't care about that, I care about you" thing which is just so sweet and romantic. If I didn't already think Kermit and Piggy were meant for eachother, this would convince me a dozen times over.

She looked up suddenly, her eyes meeting Kermit’s. “Kermit, I’m so sorry—I mean, I didn’t—I wouldn’t—it was just….” Her lower lip began to tremble and Kermit pushed back his chair and came to put his arms around her.
Of course Piggy would never betray her frog... she's only got eyes for him, flirting for to cause jealousy notwithstanding. Her reaction here is dead on too. I mean, boy would it hurt to be accused of something like that, especially in public. Poor "Frogs".

Alright, so getting back to the beginning, I still love your homey scenes of their blissful married life. It's got this warmth about it that touches me. It's getting harder and harder for me not to picture them as happily married.
“Piggy—you made the cover of the celebrity section.”
Piggy looked up, surprised but not shocked to find herself the center of attention.
Not dismayed about it either, I'd wager, until of course, she finds out what it's about. Oh, why do I have the feeling it's not going to end there? Oh, right, I've read your other stories... do you believe in happy endings? :concern:

I can't wait to read more of this... and I think I'm gonna go back and do some rereading. Wonderful writing, Ruahnna... positively addictive.
 

Ruahnna

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Chapter 5: Good Remembering

Funny how often this happens, Kermit thought idly. Piggy and I try to steal away for a little couple time and end up with a whole menagerie along for the ride. Their picnic for two had turned into a full-scale party, with half the cast and crew along. Resigned, Kermit stopped the bus long enough to send Rizzo and Gonzo on a food-procuring expedition, and the whole lot of them had staked out a shady hillside near a stream. A fierce game of boys-against-girls football was unfolding before them—much to Sam the Eagle’s chagrin—and Statler and Waldorf were playing a cut-throat game of horse-shoes amidst complaints about their lumbago. Now—stuffed to the gills (which had not actually worked for quite some years now) and drowsy from the sun, Kermit felt himself beginning to relax. A few days earlier, he’d felt disconnected from Piggy, from his crew and cast mates—from his life, it seemed--and now he felt blissfully content. If it hadn’t been for that stupid reporter--
With an effort, Kermit pushed the thought away, and found a happy place again. It was not hard, seeing as how he was currently in one.
“I have a profound sense of déjà vu,” Kermit said wryly, smiling up at his wife. He was stretched out on the picnic blanket, his head cushioned on Piggy’s lap. If this had been a movie, Piggy would have been wearing some diaphanous dress, her face shaded by a summer hat. Instead, she was wearing a little white skort and a red halter top. Her hair was twisted up in a cross between a bun and a pony-tail, and little escaping tendrils framed her face. She was drawing little designs on the smooth skin of his head with lazy fingers, and let out a low chuckle and leaned down to kiss him.
“Too late to complain,” she scolded. “You’ve already used it for story fodder.”
It was true. It had happened so often during their courtship—if the series of starts, stops and bone-jarring jolts their relationship had experienced could be called a courtship—that Kermit had finally included it in one of their scripts. It was the second movie they’d made together, and by that time their professional, public and private lives were so completely intertwined that it was sometimes impossible for him to separate them. Playing opposite Piggy and side by side with Fozzie were roles he was meant for, and couldn’t improve upon. Add to that the support and camaraderie of his friends and the creative charge you only got from working with people who genuinely understand you—it had been his highest calling. How could he have forgotten that?
“What?” Piggy said, seeing the dismay cloud his features. She peered at him and her eyes—even upside-down—mirrored genuine concern.
“Nothing,” Kermit said gently. “I was just thinking—remembering.”
“Good remembering or bad remembering?”
“Good,” he said firmly. “I was just thinking about the old days at the theatre.”
“Good old days indeed.”
“Yes.” He sat up, turning to face her. “Do you remember the time you got so angry with my about the big number that you gave me a karate chop that nearly knocked the stuffing out of me?”
“Moi?” Piggy murmured, her eyes wide. Good grief, she was good, Kermit thought. Any jury in the world would have bought it.
“Yes, you,” Kermit insisted. “You darn near put me in the clinic!”
“Which time?” Piggy murmured, but she began to smile.
“Aha!” Kermit cried, “You do remember!”
Piggy feigned thoughtfulness. “Was that before or after you tried to fire me—for the fourth time?”
“Don’t change the subject on me,” Kermit began, but he was smiling. He leaned forward, thinking about a kiss.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Piggy sighed, and leaned forward to meet him.
Their smooching was rudely interrupted by the arrival of a football, which narrowly missed the potato salad. Laughing, Kermit scooped up the football and got up, pulling Piggy to her feet. The look he gave her was full of challenge.
“Up for a little game of tackle?’ he teased.
Piggy gave him a look. “Anytime, frog,” she said saucily, and went to join the girls team.

What a great day, Kermit would think later. What an almost idyllic day. If only they'd know then what was coming. If only they'd know then what to watch for. If only they’d known then what they knew later….
 

TogetherAgain

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Oh how DARE you! ...Oh, hi, um... Yes, I've been reading and loving this and meaning to reply and just sort of... haven't... sorry. Anyway, how DARE you end a chapter with a line like that! Ohhhhhhhhhhh now I'm just DYING to know what they're going to find out!! PLEASE post soon before I go even more insane than I already am!!

Of course the rest of this chapter is absolutely awesome. I love how the attempted couple-time turned into everybody- reminds me of Great Muppet Caper. And then you went and mentioned The Great Muppet Caper! And my favorite scene, too! Oh my gosh, Ruahnna, I positively glomp you for that!

And, by the way, I love the rest of the story, too! It really sticks in my head. Just today, I was reciting Muppet Treasure Island- oh don't look at me like that, I've had it memorized for years- with some of my friends, or rather for some of my friends, and I got to the scene you mentioned them watching, and I just kept thinking about twenty-three takes of the kiss... <giggles> And that's not the only scene that sticks, either, the whole dang thing just keeps running around in my head, almost as much as my own story does! (And believe me, that's saying a LOT.) Keep it up, this is fantasticabulous!

MORE PLEASE!!!!!!!!
 

Leyla

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Ooh, hurrah! You've got to love a good muppet menagerie scene. It sounds like so much fun! Though I can just picture Kermit and Piggy trying to get away from everyone on their honeymoon... say, that gives me an idea... well, later, later. Time to rave!

I have to question Kermit's wisdom in sending Rizzo on a food-procuring mission. I have no doubt he's preternaturally good at find food, I'm just not confident that anyone else would get any of it... perhaps that's Gonzo's job, guarding found food from Rizzo. It's a good thing he's such a daredevil. The football game sounds like it would be great fun to watch, especially with Sam hovering around, and it amuses me no end that somehow or another, even Statler and Waldorf tagged along. I would also love to see them horseshoeing.

I enjoyed the rather topical musings on the connections between their personal lives and the movies, and I'm driving myself crazy trying to figure out if you a referencing a specific scene that came of the story fodder. I mean, I'm immediately reminded of Pigggy's fantasy "Never Before, Never Again, but that's the first movie, so perhaps it's the bike riding scene in GMC. I don't know, but hey, I'm having fun trying to figure it out.

I gotta go put in a muppet movie now.

I like that it's now Piggy's turn to be making little designs on Kermit instead of the other way 'round. I love your emphasis of that theme with Kermit rediscovering all that he's been missing around him, it's such an important, stop and smell the roses idea and it counterpoints nicely with the trouble
a-brewin'.

Speaking of which, even with this peaceful, happy, escapist scene, you've managed to keep all that dramatic tension up. I feel like a violin string tightened a little too much... but in a good way.

“Good old days indeed.”
“Yes.” He sat up, turning to face her. “Do you remember the time you got so angry with my about the big number that you gave me a karate chop that nearly knocked the stuffing out of me?”
“Moi?” Piggy murmured, her eyes wide. Good grief, she was good, Kermit thought. Any jury in the world would have bought it.
“Yes, you,” Kermit insisted. “You darn near put me in the clinic!”
“Which time?” Piggy murmured, but she began to smile.
“Aha!” Kermit cried, “You do remember!”
Piggy feigned thoughtfulness. “Was that before or after you tried to fire me—for the fourth time?”
Heehee, this was great! Funny and just so relationshippy. I love the frog/pig banter. It's such fun! It's also interesting to consider how they look back on all the violent confrontations they've had over the years, and how they handle those memories.

An idyllic day... the calm before the storm. Am I the only one who wants to tell them to stay in the happy place and tackle eachother for a while more?

Great job, comme toujours, Ruahnna. I'm looking forward to more!
 

Ruahnna

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Ooh--I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it! (Kissy, kissy!) Next installment to post soon!
 

ReneeLouvier

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That last line is completely intriguing!! I can't WAIT to see what happens next!!

*giggles* Maybe little figs perhaps? :smile:
 

Ruahnna

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Chapter 6: The sum of the parts

In had been more than a month since Fleet Scribbler’s insidious little insinuation had garnered anyone’s interest, and life at Rainbow Productions had settled in to as close to normal as it ever would. Kermit found he liked going to work again—found new energy and new ideas forming at an alarming rate. The cast was buzzing, the tech crew was unparalleled in anticipating his needs, and Kermit realized with some chagrin--and not for the first time—that it was his emotional equilibrium that set the tone for the others. Gonzo would have said—had said on many occasions—when the pig ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy, but that was not strictly true. In actuality, it was the frog, not the pig, to whom everyone looked for direction and reassurance. Although Kermit had always been more than willing to let Piggy take the fall for the grumpiness he exhibited amidst the behind-the-scenes chaos, he was only beginning to realize that she may have assumed that role intentionally and willingly, forming a buffer between him and all the people and things constantly clamoring for his attention.
The picnic was a distant memory—the photograph in the newspaper merely a miniscule blip on the fast-fading horizon of Hollywood’s microscopic attention span. True, there were moments when the “The Frogs” would enter a restaurant or a party and there would be a slight comma in the conversation, but Kermit and Piggy had little time to think about it, and even less time to worry about it. The past few weeks of filming had been incredible. Working together all day, often within touching distance, Kermit found his eyes searching for her whenever there was a lull. Feeling his gaze, Piggy would turn and their eyes would meet, making them both remember, and blush.
Most days, they could meet for a few stolen kisses between scenes. On good days, there might be enough time and privacy to sneak into Piggy’s trailer or his office for a little between-scene snuggling—provided they didn’t muss Piggy’s make-up. On one incredible day, Piggy had been merciless. She always managed to be adjusting her stockings or stretching luxuriously when his gaze fell on her. To make matters worse, she was never alone. Try as he might, it seemed impossible to have a private moment with her. When he’d knocked on her trailer door (with a sheaf of inconsequential script changes in his hand), she’d opened the door in delight and surprise—whether real or imagined he could not say—then ushered him into a room full of chattering ladies from makeup and wardrobe. She’d kissed him on the cheek (to giggles) and introduced him around like a stranger. Powerless to resist, he had found himself crammed around a tiny table eating cucumber and chocolate sandwiches, petit fours and balancing a cup of tea. Wedged in next to Piggy, with the heat of her leg reaching him through the flannel of his trousers, Kermit stewed in exquisite misery—especially when her sly little hand sneaked down to pat him on the knee. He could barely see through the hormone-induced haze when the interminable tea was over. As the last of the ladies had gushed their way out the door, Piggy had turned to him at last, closed the door with a deft turn of her ankle and fallen on him like a ton of bricks.
Before an indecent interval had passed, Piggy had sent him stumbling out into the light, snuggled into a state of near-asphyxiation and totally, completely and thoroughly kissed. Smiling sweetly at his befuddled state, Piggy shut the trailer door firmly behind him and began preparing for her next scene while Kermit tried to remember who he was and what it was he was supposed to be doing. He’d sailed through the rest of the day barely aware of his surroundings, but it hardly seemed to matter. For the rest of the day’s shoot, Piggy was literally unstoppable, with all her appeal harnessed and put into play on film. But when no one was looking, she shot Kermit longing looks that promised much more than stolen kisses. Just before she’d stepped into the limo waiting to carry her home, Piggy had reached out and taken the two ends of his unknotted tie between her hands, pulled him to her and given him the most chaste, most impossibly demure kiss he had ever known her to give, but her big blue eyes bored into his and he saw there all he needed to see. “I’ll wait up for you,” she’d whispered, and stepped into the car.
At last the day of filming was over, the dailies reviewed, the never-ending paperwork signed, sealed and delivered. “All right, Piggy,” Kermit thought with a smile. “I’m all yours.” He hoped he was up to the challenge.

It was impulse, really, that caused Piggy to stop on Rodeo Drive on the way home. She felt restless, strung with some incredible energy, and she knew if might be hours before Kermit came home, so when the driver slowed and stopped at the red light, Piggy tapped on the glass and pointed. He pulled over and she got out.
The boutiques here were marvelous, really, if you had lots of money, and Piggy window-shopped happily, day-dreaming and looking at things that would have been marvelous if you’d been going to a cowboy-spaceman-masquerade, or dinner with the Pope and Motley Crew at the same time. It was time, already, to begin thinking about the Oscars, and she stepped into a minute shop—barely six-by-ten and very exclusive—to get a better look at some of the gowns displayed in the tall windows. No door bell jingled—the shop was too discreet for that—but a salesperson appeared like magic from the back. Thoreau threw his hands up in delight, breaking into a wide smile.
“Darling!” he called, “Piggy, darling!” He practically ran over to kiss her on her two plump cheeks and accept her giggling busses in return. At length, he held her back from him, surveying her with a professional eye. “You’re wearing your hair different now,” he said thoughtfully. “And a little lighter, I think—very nice, very nice.” He leaned forward and gave the rest of her a thorough once-over. “And someone’s been working out, I think.”
Piggy turned so that her assets were out of Thoreau line of view and gave him a stern look. “Dancing, mostly,” she said firmly. “And a little football.”
Thoreau let out a little shriek. “Football—you mustn’t! This temple,”—he swept his hand out, skimming her side—“should not be playing football!”
Piggy ignored him and moved away from his hand, looking at the exclusive selection of glittering gowns. With a dramatic sign, Thoreau came to her side and began to point out the special features of each dress—this one had hand-beading done by monks, this one had enough internal support to give Kate Moss a cross-your-heart figure, this one…. In retrospect, it was possible—likely even--that someone else slipped unnoticed into the little store about this time. And it was a darn shame that the clothes racks were so tightly packed, and that the doorbell was too discreet to chime. After a moment, Thoreau paused in his recital, realizing that Piggy wasn’t listening to a word. He looked at her thoughtfully, taking in the distracted air, the dreaminess in her expression, and air of deep contentment.
“Piggy!” he accused. “You’re in love!”
Miss Piggy snapped to as though he’d slapped her on the rump. She stepped back and gave him an astonished look. “Of course Moi is in love. Moi is happily married—as you well know.”
Thoreau pursed his lips, looking unsatisfied. “Oh yes—Mr. Kermit the Frog, the love of your life.” Thoreau had never felt that anyone--frog or not--was good enough for Piggy.
Piggy glared at him, even took a step toward him. “He is the love of my life, and Moi is the love of his life and don’t you dare say—“
“Calm down, calm down,” Thoreau said placatingly. “I wasn’t trying to start an argument. It’s just, well Piggy, I’ve never seen you look like this before.”
Piggy blushed and looked down. How to explain? How to say that she’d fallen in love with Kermit all over again during the past two months—had become more happy than she had ever imagined. She fidgeted, struggling for words and was surprised to find her eyes moist, her voice choked with tears. After a moment, Thoreau stepped forward and put his arms around her gently.
“It’s okay, darling,” Thoreau said, patting her comfortingly on the back. “Don’t mind me--I’m just a big ninny. Come in the back and have a cup of tea and we’ll find you something nice to take home.”
The next half hour found Piggy pouring out her extreme happiness with Kermit as well as her lingering hurt and upset over the misleading photograph in the newspaper over strong sweet tea and cookies half-dipped in dark chocolate. Thoreau sighed, commiserated and managed to find her something absolutely wicked from the secret cachet of French lingerie in the back. “A little something for both of you,” he had insisted, wrapping it up in tissue paper which appeared considerably more substantial than that item it enclosed. “A very little,” he added mischievously, and laughed out loud when Piggy flushed scarlet.
“You are sweet to listen, Thoreau.”
“I’m just glad you’re happy, darling,” Thoreau said sincerely. “Everybody knows a good man is hard to find.”
Piggy let Thoreau kiss her cheeks and hand her into the limousine. He enjoyed watching her lift her knees daintily into the car, then leaned down, smiling at her radiant face.
“Remember me at Oscar time, darling,” he said, then shut the door and sent her on her way.

Later that evening, even as Kermit and Piggy reveled in their time alone together, someone in town was writing a story, someone whose interest in notoriaty exceeded their interest in the truth. The best lies—or the worst, depending on your point of view—were the ones that were closest to the truth, only veering at the last minute from the gospel. It was true that one of Piggy’s long-time clothiers had seen and commented on the fact that she seemed blissfully in love. It was also true that she left said clothier with new lingerie, although how this information was acquired is unclear even now. And it was also true that Kermit had worked very late that night before coming home. The sum of the whole, however, is usually not the simple sum of the parts—although, in the wrong hands, it can certainly be made to look that way.
 

Leyla

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Ooh, wow, this is great, Ruahnna! Your stories are just so snuggly!

"insidious little insinuation" Lovely phrase that.

So they made it through that first smarmy little article, that's good, but there's more nastiness coming, oh dear!

I really enjoyed how Kermit's mood has such a strong effect on everyone else, especially when compared to Piggy's mood.
when the pig ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy
Heehee, love that!

The idea that Piggy runs interference for Kermit, taking the blame for his grumpiness on purpose is just such a noble, sweet idea. They're so good for each other in your stories, I love it!

All the lovely doviness is just as heartwarming as it was when I first read "Can't help loving". Your account of Piggy's merciless day was hilarious. It's so much fun the way they tease each other. Kermit's befuddled state afterwards was very, very funny! I also liked Piggy's chaste kiss when her eyes were anything but. Great writing!

It's really fun to see Piggy in her own element as she's shopping, although I'm going to start worrying about her whenever she's in public alone now, it gets her into trouble!

Piggy's falling in love with Kermit all over again was so sweet and romantic, and the moist eyes were very touching. Me thinks she's noticed Kermit's distraction over the years, even if it's only in retrospect, and it's probably such a weight off her mind that he's himself again.

I liked Thoreau's protectiveness towards Piggy, and that last paragraph gave me chills! Oh, poor Kermit and Piggy. That Fleet Scribbler outta be erm... I can't think of something cruel yet muppety, but it shouldn't be fun that's for sure! Very nice description of the effects of spin on true events.

Great job, Ruahnna! Still captivating, as always!
Leyla
 

redBoobergurl

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WOWOWOWOW!

Ok, I just started reading this today and I read the whole thing and it's incredible! You paint such a detailed picture and I'm loving all this Kermit/Piggy mushy stuff and the suspense you keep teasing us with about someone who's out there trying to ruin it all for them! Gosh, this is just fantastic! I'm definately tuning in from here on out! Great job!
 

Ruahnna

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Chapter 7: This Can't Be Much of a Picnic.

It was early, early in the morning when Kermit’s cell phone began to beep. It took him a moment to orient himself, then launch out of bed and begin the frantic search for the source of the annoying noise. He finally found it—still clipped to his trousers—in the clothing which had been strewn hastily around the room the night before. He jerked it open at the last minute, stammering a sleepy hello.
“Kermit—thank goodness!” It was Gonzo, but he sounded more relieved than Kermit could account for. “Where are you?”
“I’m home, Gonzo.” In bed, Gonzo.
“Oh—then where’s Piggy?” Kermit was about to tell him it was none of his business but the oddness of the situation caused him to pause, then answer.
“She’s here, Gonzo—we’re both here.”
There was a silence on the other end of the phone, then Gonzo let out a shaky sigh. ‘I’m glad,” he said fervently. “I’m so glad.”
“Gonzo—are you okay?” Kermit asked. He stifled a yawn, scratching his head. “Is—is everybody okay?”
Again, that odd pause. “Everybody’s fine,” Gonzo said slowly. “Um—are you sitting down?”
“No Gonzo—I’m not.” I’m freezing my tushie off here in the stairs—talking to a lunatic.
“Maybe you better sit down.”
“Why—what is it? Are you in jail?”
“What? No—I’m fine. Okay—are you sitting?”
“Gonzo—tell me!”
Gonzo told him, and Kermit sat. He sat for a long moment, staring at the phone. Dimly, he could hear Rizzo’s voice in the background.
“Is he still there? Did he pass out?”
“Kermit? Are you—are you there, buddy?”
Kermit put the phone back up to his ear, but mechanically, like a man in a dream. “I’m here,” he said hollowly.
“Look—Rizzo and I are coming over. I’m going to try to get Scooter, too. Have you heard from Marty?”
“No,” Kermit said softly. “No, not yet.”
“Call him before he calls you.”
“I—I will.”
“You don’t sound so good, Kermit—will you be okay until we get there?”
“Sure,” Kermit said faintly. At least, he heard himself answer, and Gonzo seemed satisfied.
“Is Piggy up yet?
“No,” Kermit answered, but at the same moment a soft voice behind him said “Yes.” She looked at him, her face pale.
“Is everyone okay? Is someone hurt?”
“No—not exactly.”
“Piggy’s up,” Kermit heard the phone say in Rizzo’s voice. “Can’t you drive any faster?”
Kermit looked up at Piggy and reached for her hand. She took it, clinging to him, and let him pull her down beside him on the stairs.
“I’m hanging up now, Gonzo,” Kermit said quietly, and let the phone fall shut. He reached out and took Piggy’s other hand, looking at her face.
“There’s been another story,” Kermit said as gently as he could.
Piggy’s face, already pale, blanched white.
“A—a story?”
“Yes.”
“About—about us?”
“Not exactly.” He looked away for a moment, overwhelmed by the pain and fear in her eyes. “Apparently, someone overheard part of your conversation with Thoreau yesterday. It…it sortof got taken out of context.”
“Oh…oh no. Kermit, I—“ Her eyes filled with tears and she looked away. She held herself together for a moment, then her hands flew to her eyes and her shoulders began to shake. Kermit scooted over behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
“Please, Piggy, don’t cry.”
He would have sat there longer—he would have sat there forever—his arms around his girl but the house phone began to ring. Piggy waved him away and he went to answer it, picking it up as though it might bite him.
“H-hello? Kermit the Frog here.” His shoulders slumped suddenly in relief. “Marty—yes, we heard. No—we didn’t know, it wasn’t the sort of thing we—“ He paused for a moment, listening. “That’d be great, Marty. See if you can find out who—what? You’re kidding? Oh. Right. No—we won’t. No—I think it’s best if we just—what? Sure. Sure thing, Marty. Call me, won’t you?” He hung up, but the doorbell was already ringing.

It was a good thing they’d come when they did, because by six a.m. the front lawn outside the gate was full of tabloid reporters and thrill-seekers. Scooter had scuttled in the back door—bringing Fozzie with him—and he had secured all the window-blinds with his usual efficiency. Rizzo had made some exceptionally strong coffee and a mound of French toast which nobody ate. Piggy had dressed and put on a little lipstick, but her face was without color, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Everyone was extremely solicitous of her (Fozzie sat and patted her hands for long moments, not speaking, just comforting.) which Kermit appreciated, but every time she looked at him her eyes filled with tears and it set off a fresh bout of weeping. If he could have gotten his hands on the man responsible, he wasn’t sure what would have happened.
Filming was a bust that day, but there was still a lot to do. Within an hour, Scooter and Gonzo had contacted everyone with some version of the truth and communicated a definite return to the schedule the following day. Yes, everyone would get paid for the day. Yes—it was okay to borrow something from wardrobe, Pepe. No, the office would not be open until tomorrow.
By mid-morning, the shock of it had worn off. The article had been examined from every angle—it was damning, no doubt about it—but it would be tomorrow’s fish-wrapper. Today’s, Kermit thought grimly, if I have any say in the matter. Where’s Lew Zealand when you really need him? Piggy even managed a wan smile when Rizzo asked if she was cooking lunch. She kissed him absently on top of the head, and Rizzo laughed and put on an apron.
Marty came over and they mapped out a plan. Until this little episode blew over, Piggy was not to take a step unattended. Someone would call for her in the limo every morning—Hilda, maybe, or Wanda-someone unimpeachable. And after that, it was Kermit’s job to make sure that the set was secure and that she was not left in gossip’s way.
“Eh, Kermit,” Marty said resignedly. “I’ve been at this a while. You see some real meanness in this business.” Almost as one, they glanced toward Piggy’s figure peeking surreptitiously out the window. “Don’t know who’d want to hurt this little lady. She’s a real keeper.” He gave Kermit a look, weighing his next words carefully. “This can’t be much of a picnic for you.”
Kermit let out a short laugh. “No,” he said firmly. “Not much.”
“But you know—you know, don'tcha—Piggy would rather die than hurt you.”
Kermit looked up in surprise. Marty was pragmatic, not much given to sentiment, but he had been fiercely loyal to Piggy through everything. Kermit had realized long ago that Marty’s attachment to Piggy was based as much on friendship and genuine affection as it was on good business sense, but he had never really known until now that Marty was his friend, too.
“I know, Marty,” he said simply. “But thanks.”
Marty stood at last. “Look,” he said firmly. “I’m gonna go out there and give ‘em what for, get ‘em off your lawn. Tomorrow, you go to work like nothing’s happened. This will blow over—you’ll see. You and Piggy are gonna be just fine.”
Kermit had never wanted to believe anything more.
 
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