Chapter 96: Imposters
“Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” said Daniel, “but it was just…weird.”
“And kinda creepy,” said Jacques. He took another bite out of his apple and shook his head. “She didth everthinn we askth.”
“Could you chew or talk, one or the other?” Claude snapped. Daniel and Jacques exchanged amused looks over Claude’s head—not hard to do, since Claude’s only claims to large-ness were his ego or his sensitivity.
Jacques swallowed and gave a plummy little cough. “Forgive me, sir, for my lapse in manners,” he smirked. “I didn’t realize I was in such hoity-toity company.”
“Not once she’s gone, anyway,” Daniel said.
Today had been weird. Piggy had been breathtaking, energy just radiating from her scantily-clad form at the construction site. But despite a couple of moments when the hairstylist seemed on the verge of incurring her wrath, Piggy had been very un-present today. She had done absolutely everything required of her but there was not a lot of fire behind it. The best shot of the day did not involve her staring bolding into the camera, as had many of the others. It showed her looking down demurely, her dark fringe of eyelashes subtly shadowing her pink cheeks. It was charming and unexpected and definitely going to make the calendar. Other than that, the day had been…somewhat grim and sad. They were done with the camera shots for the calendar, except of course for replacing the pictures of Jimmy with similar ones of Kermit. That would come later, of course. After today, everything would come later.
Piggy had practically rocketed off the set once the last shot was done. She had thrown on her version of street clothes and peeled out in the little purple sports car, leaving Jimmy to bat clean-up at the site. Although she was driving like a bandit on the highway, Marty wasn’t much worried. Piggy didn’t drive often enough for the little purple car to be recognizable and he doubted the state police could catch her.
His sangfroid was rewarded when she called him from the house to report that she had arrived safely---with the picnic hamper picked up sans paparazzi—and that she and Kermit were getting ready to drive up the coast.
“Be careful, Doll. You driving?”
“Kermit’s driving,” Piggy said, and Marty heard the amusement in her voice. Kermit usually preferred to be driven, and his insistence on being behind the wheel was probably some sort of misplaced protectiveness. Piggy sighed, tied a pink silk scarf around her hair, and resigned herself to being driving sedately up the coast by the most responsible drive in her world.
“I would say ‘Be careful’ but I think I’ll settle for ‘Don’t kill him.’ Have a good time—I hope this works.”
“Moi, too,” Piggy said, and did a few kissy-kissy noises into the phone. Kermit came into the kitchen while she was doing that, dressed in khaki’s and a black polo shirt. He made a face of mock dismay and walked over to claim his own kissy-kissy.
“So who are you blowing kisses to?” he grumped, but Piggy knew it was just play-acting.
“Just Marty. He said to have fun.”
Kermit kissed her again, thoroughly. “I can do that,” he murmured. He released her but reached for her hand and the picnic basket. “You ready to face your arch nemesis?” he teased, and Piggy actually swatted him.
“Oh, for goodness sake,” she sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can we just go already?”
An unrepentant Kermit just rubbed his arm ruefully. “We can,” he said, grinning, and led her out to the car.
They listened to music, they talked about nothing, then about shoes, then about their respective schedules. The conversation never veered into deep or dangerous territory, and they both kept the tone determinedly light. The only thing they did not discuss at all was their destination, as though talking about it might somehow jinx it, and Piggy felt her anxiety mount as the miles clicked by. In truth, she didn’t mind Kermit driving after all. It gave her a chance to be un-responsible for anything, a condition she relished, and it gave a chance to sit and look at him as long as and intently as she wanted.
“What?” Kermit had asked, once, blushing under her scrutiny. Piggy reached out and stroked his arm, smiling at him.
“Just…enjoying the view,” she said.
“Oh, yeah—the coast is gorgeous today. No fog, and you can see clear to—oh. Oh, um, er, yeah. Got it.” He flushed, his cheeks burning, and busied himself with the navigator. “The turn-off is in about five miles.”
Piggy sat up straighter and reached automatically to check her hair.
“Ready?” Kermit asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” Piggy growled, and reached to put on fresh lipstick.
The structure was imposing, and not just because it was immense. Piggy had a momentary image of being led up to a castle, the princess about to be sacrificed to the dragon, but she shook it off irritably. Bring on the dragon! She was ready for anything!
The door was a double-sized, heavy oak polished to a bright sheen, and covered with elaborate wrought-iron scrollwork. Kermit looked at Piggy, who nodded once, and then his slim, froggy finger pressed the bell.
A resonate gong sounded in the house and the door began to open slowly…then was pulled open so suddenly that Kermit and Piggy both started. Piggy found herself snout to snout with a face she knew all-too-well.
“Oh my gosh, omigosh!” squealed Annie Sue. She stood in the doorway looking as pert and perky as she had years ago at the Muppet Theater. She threw her arms around Kermit (who hoped fervently that lightning—or Piggy—wouldn’t strike him), and then she did the same to an astounded Piggy.
“Wow!” Annie Sue breathed, looking at Piggy. “Look at me, old and fat and look at you! You haven’t changed a bit since the show…except maybe….” She eyed Piggy critically. “Your hair is shorter,” she said, then smiled enormously. “It looks great on you!” Piggy stood there for a moment and tried to imagine why she hadn’t liked Annie Sue, but when Annie Sue reached out and hugged Kermit again—hugged him and kissed him on both cheeks, it all came crashing back. Luckily—for Kermit and for Annie Sue—the contact was brief, then the little sow was hauling them into the house, ushering them into the sitting room. She sat them on the couch and then perched near them in a straight-backed chair. “Wow!” Annie Sue bubbled. “I was so excited when I got your call the other day that I haven’t gotten anything done! The house is just a mess!”
Kermit and Piggy gazed around the immaculate room. If there was a mess, it was hiding.
“Your house is, um, very lovely,” said Kermit. They had talked very briefly the other day on the phone, and Kermit only realized after he’d hung up that he’d not lived up to the manners his mother has taught him. He wanted to launch right into his business, but forced himself to attend to the social niceties first. His eyes ranged the room, seeing lots of photos. “So, what have you been doing with yourself, Annie Sue?” Kermit asked politely. “We didn’t get to do much catching up the other day.”
“Oh, not much,” she chirped. “You know. I got married, had kids, the usual.”
“Kids?” Kermit said, eyes brightening. Piggy smiled. He was on firm ground now. Kermit loved kids. He felt Piggy shift in posture, sensed her quiet amusement at his eagerness, and plunged on determinedly. “How many kids do you have, Annie Sue?” He looked at the photos with interest. “Any of them like Sesame Street?”
Annie Sue laughed. “We stopped at four litters,” she said pragmatically. “And every one one of them liked Sesame Street—especially my youngest.” She picked up a picture of a large gathering of good-looking pigs. “Here’s the latest picture we had made.”
Piggy spoke at last. “Four…litters?” she said, flabbergasted. Annie Sue looked relaxed and tiny in skinny jeans and a cotton sweater.
“Yep,” said Annie Sue. “Eleven boys, five girls.” She grinned. “I told Hormel we had our own football team and our own basketball team and I was not going to try for a baseball team.” She got up and gathered more photos from around the room, handing them over with obvious pride. “Here’s the girls with their Nana,” she said. “And this is Dean’s graduation picture, and one of all of us on Independence Day.” In that picture, they were all wearing red, white and blue.
“Wow,” said Kermit. “Nice-looking kids.”
“Oh, Annie Sue,” said Piggy softly. “They’re…lovely.” She handed the photos back slowly.
“So, I heard the Christmas show was a hit,” Annie said, wiping non-existent dust off of one of the photographs and beaming. “And the New Year’s show was a smash. And the movie! You’re movie is coming out…when?”
“Sooner than expected,” Kermit said, and grimaced. "Fozzie’s Angels just finished filming. We’re in post-production for the next few months….” He looked at Piggy, who was smiling but not talking much. “I’m going to be doing that while Piggy’s busy on Broadway.” His bulbous eyes were soft when he looked at her, shining with pride.
“Oh, I know! It’s so exciting! I told Hormel we have to get tickets to see you, Miss Piggy. It would be divine.”
“Please, Annie Sue,” said Piggy hurriedly. “Let Moi comp you some tickets. You’re so nice to…help us.”
“About that—“ began Kermit, but Annie Sue popped up like she’d been in a toaster.
“Coffee,” she said. “I made coffee.”
After she left, Kermit turned and looked at Piggy. “Wow,” he teased. “She makes coffee, too.”
Piggy might have smacked him into next week, but there was the sound of a door opening, and their hostess reappeared almost instantly with the tray and a very handsome hog in tow.
Piggy thought he looked a little like a Clark Kent wannabee—tall, broad shouldered, dark-haired and wearing horn-rimmed glasses. Kermit thought he looked…big. Big and a little scary.
“Oh! Look who just got home! Oh—guys, I want you to meet my husband, Hormel.” She beamed up at the big hog and he smiled indulgently at her. “Hormel, this is Kermit the Frog and…and this is Miss Piggy!” She paused, seemingly astounded with the news herself. “Kermit, Miss Piggy—this is Hormel.”
They shook hands all around, Kermit feeling rather small and green in the room, but Hormel proved to be charming and good-natured. His handshake to Kermit was firm and, while he made admirable eye contact while pressing her satin-gloved hand, Piggy felt the appreciation in his eyes enough to be a little flustered by it.
“So nice to meet you both,” he said again. “I’ve been a big fan of your work.” His voice was rumbly and deep but his eyes were warm and friendly. He cast a fond look at his wife, who was perched on the seat of his armchair. “Hard to imagine my little Annie Sue used to be in show business with you.” The look he gave her said it wasn’t hard for him to imagine at all.
Annie Sue rolled her eyes. “Hormel!” she complained. “I was in the chorus. Kermit and Miss Piggy were big stars.”
He smiled at her indulgently, but it was obvious he thought she could hold her own. Piggy found herself liking Annie Sue just a teensy bit more.
“So, what brings you folks to our humble abode?” Hormel said pleasantly. Humble wasn’t exactly the word Kermit and Piggy would have used—vast, grand, amazing—but not humble. Hormel’s voice made it plain he thought them above being impressed by a lovely home.
“Um, well, we’ve, um, come to ask Annie Sue a favor, actually,” said Kermit, a little uncomfortable. He looked at Annie Sue hopefully. “We, um, spoke on the phone.”
Annie Sue grinned. “It sounds like fun. Sneaky, but fun.” She turned to her husband and her voice became earnest. “You remember when those nasty articles started coming out? The ones about…” Here, she trailed off and shot an apologetic glance at the The Frogs. “And I told you it wasn’t true? That they couldn’t be true?” She turned and looked at Kermit and Piggy, bristling with indignation. “Well—they weren’t. But that reporter won’t stop, and now there’s all this stupid paparazzi stuff going on and…” She stopped and took a breath, trying to figure out how to proceed.
But Hormel was a quick study. “And now I hear you’re leaving for a Broadway show,” he said to Piggy.
She nodded. “In a few days.”
“And you’re trying to confuse the reporters so you can make a decent getaway.”
Piggy found herself smiling. “Yes. Moi would like to avoid another media circus.”
Kermit reached over and put his arm around Piggy. “No media circus,” he promised.
Hormel saw the look in Kermit’s eyes when he looked at Miss Piggy, and then he turned and looked at his own wife. It was the same look, the same sort of emotion that passed between them.
“So you want Annie to dress up like Miss Piggy and pretend to arrive with…”
“My brother, Jimmy. He’ll be dressed like me.”
“And all this so you can have a decent send-off?” Hormel asked.
There was a moment of silence, and Kermit was preparing to jump in and beg for help, to try to explain again, but Hormel jumped in instead.
“I’ve got a pilot’s license. Sure I couldn’t just fly Miss Piggy from your house to New York myself?”
Dumbfounded, Kermit struggled to answer, but Piggy seemed to have composed herself at last.
“Vous are very sweet, but I think that might attract too much attention.” She flashed him a smile and batted her electric blue eyes at him in mock flirtation. “I don’t think arriving in New York in the private plane of a handsome entrepreneur is going to do much to calm the paparazzi, do you?”
Hormel laughed, and flashed a big grin at Annie Sue. “Pretty and smart,” he said, smiling broadly. “Just like my girl.” He looked at his wife, his expression fond. “Go on and play dress up if you want, Honey. I think it’s a brilliant idea.”
He got up, shook hands politely again, then started up the stairs, loosening his tie.
Annie Sue watched him go, her eyes amused and affectionate. “He’s such a sweetie,” she murmured. Then she turned and looked at her former cast-mates.
“So—tell me how this is all going to work….”
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moment was finding Annie Sue's husband named Hormel.
hired 
to attempt answering the thing while he looked for things to count, eventually making it difficult for his assistant as he insisted on counting the rings the phone made. If you can't find them, they're either on the desk in the unliving quarters or tucked into the iron maiden torture device.