Motocross Mix-Up

[WebMistressGina]

Goooooooooood morning, Muppets! So, I have been having the best week EVAH! A few hiccups, but you know what, not too bad. You'll notice I did a little update on the Monday series, later today after I get some work done, I'm gonna do a little update on that Pool Hall series, but for now.....

Here's a new story within our Miss Piggy Adventures.

You're finally getting around to that, huh?

Um...have you forgotten I started that? You and the bear, remember?

Yes, but that was more of a Fozzie feature. I'm talking about the one where I'm kicking butts and taking names.

Yes, Pigbo, I have gotten to that one. And here it is!

Miss Piggy’s Muppet Adventures Present​

Miss Piggy The Great Gonzo​

In​

Motocross Mix-up​

​

Prologue
Los Angeles County lockup


Most people try to avoid going to jail. In the past, prison was seen as the place where ruffians, degenerates, and just plain bad eggs went when they couldn’t conform to society; many a Hollywood movie has been made about the dangerous of going to prison. Of course, in the most recent years, the prospect of jail has become somewhat of a popular place; not that many people still look forward to going there, but there are points to be had about a place with free food, free room and board, and free health care.

While most people try to stay out of jail, there are those people who seem to be attracted by trouble. Whether they are just in the wrong place at the wrong time or the right place at the wrong time, eventually their next stop is to be sitting in one of the holding cells within the county lock up.

As was the case with two people who currently sat on a bench behind steel bars.

Ironically, this was not the first time that these two had been behind bars nor was it the first time they had been behind bars together; nor was it the first time that they had been behind bars because of a fight. That they caused. Essentially.

Both of course suffered injuries during the scuffle – the person on the left periodically kept looking at his right arm, which was bandaged from shoulder to elbow. Thankfully, it had stopped bleeding fairly quickly and the friendly officers had been nice enough to wrap it tightly. He would of course need to see a doctor, preferably during normal weekday hours, but it was his hope that it wasn’t too damaged that he wouldn’t be able to perform his juggling watermelon act for his upcoming show.

Sitting next to him was his co-conspirator, who held a large bag of ice over her left eye. Like her friend, the officers had been gracious in giving her an ice bag after noticing how swollen her eye was, which meant in all likelihood, she was gonna have one heck of a shiner before the end of the night.

“How’s the arm?” she asked, glancing over to her companion.

Shrugging just his left shoulder, the male answered, “Not so bad. Still hurts a little, but not too much. How’s the eye?”

“You tell me.” Removing the ice bag, she turned to him so he could view it. Her eye was still shut, but at least the swelling had gone down some, but the sight of it still caused him to wince in sympathy.

“You’re gonna have one heck of a shiner, that’s for sure.”

“Great.”

While the two were no strangers to getting in trouble with the law, they none the less tried to keep their noses clean in the most part. Well aware of the due process involved in booking and arraigning and of course, calling someone for bail was a long and involved task, especially when you needed to come up with someone who wouldn’t rat them out to their boss. So even though the entire event had taken place at two in the afternoon, it was nearly nine when their savior arrived with one of the officers of lockup.

And that was how Rowlf the Dog found Miss Piggy and the Great Gonzo.

“Here you go,” replied the guard, a stout black woman of middle age proportions. She opened the cell door, allowing both pig and weirdo to leave their record number of ninety six times being incarcerated combined behind them. “Will we be seeing you next week?” she asked, cheekily.

“Ha ha,” deadpanned the pig. “I know you miss us, Brenda, but we actually do manage to do things other than…you know.”

“Getting into fights at a race track?”

“I’ll have you know we’ve been in better fights than this one before,” Gonzo joked.

“Oh, I know!” Brenda the guard laughed. “What was the one with the news team?”

“Oh yeah,” sighed the brown dog. “A classic. That was your first day on the job, wasn’t it?”

“Sure was,” the guard replied. “Still can’t thank you enough for coming in to my little boy’s classroom.”

“We still can’t thank you enough for getting us that,” Gonzo replied. “I so didn’t want that tutoring thing in the men’s prison.”

“I had the tutoring thing in the men’s prison,” Piggy argued. “You were going to do the tazing experiment.”

“Oh yeah,” the weirdo murmured. “Why didn’t I do that?”

“Because Kermit wouldn’t let you.”

The quartet headed towards the out desk, where the two offenders would receive their belongings, as well as allowing for Rowlf to officially check them out. “Anything yet?” whispered Gonzo.

“Well, it hasn’t been on the radio,” Rowlf mentioned. “So it might not have gotten to the news stations yet and I can tell you the old rumor mill has been quiet on that front too.”

Both Piggy and Gonzo gave a great sigh of relief. While they may have been familiar with Brenda and the other officers of LA county, as well as those at the LAPD and Beverly Hills forces, the aftermath of their indiscretion always meant one thing – Kermit would hear about it.

Their boss and friend, Kermit the Frog, of course loved publicity for the Muppets, that is he loved good publicity and no matter what the reasoning or the stunt, he never wanted to hear about the kind of publicity these two could get into. It was no secret that Gonzo’s wondering eye and maddening creative endeavors had erred him on the wrong side of a steel door and Piggy’s quick tongue and even quicker temper had ignited enough restraining orders than legally warranted. Putting the two together was always a bad combination, with both of them usually defending the other when wronged.

Whenever they got into this type of trouble – the kind that warranted getting bailed out of jail – extra measures needed to be performed so that Kermit would be none the wiser. As long as the story wasn’t published and no pictures had been taken and provided it wasn’t in view of, say, ten thousand people.

Which…this…kinda was.

Rowlf, the Muppet pianist and unofficial music historian, had been the first person they had thought to call; he had been at least one of their scuffles and knew from experience how very angry Kermit could get when learning that they been thrown in jail; he was also very good at keeping those types of facts away from the others, who could talk to the wrong person – like admin assistant Scooter Grosse – who would go to Kermit or say something within ear shot of the wrong person – like patriotic pain Sam the Eagle – who would go to Kermit or be easily bribed – like comic Fozzie Bear – who would no doubt break into tears while telling his story to Kermit.

No, Rowlf was the right choice in this.

Another hour was spent filling out paperwork and release forms and of course, saying hello to all the officers in the building and signing autographs; it was a good thing they were likeable jailbirds, not unlike the celebrities that managed to cross paths with them, but unlike the other celebrities, the Muppets generally paid their dues to society in a timely and meaningful fashion.

Once all was said and done, it was a little after ten o’clock, with the sun comfortably in its bed and the moon hanging brightly in the sky. The trio headed to Rowlf’s beat up clunker of a car – which was probably safer than that of Fozzie’s Studebaker – and climbed in, with Gonzo taking shotgun and Piggy lounging in the back.

The drive between that of the county lockup, Gonzo’s apartment, and Piggy’s home would take some time and it was time Rowlf thought wisely to fill up with some music; his radio had been set to a classic jazz station that was currently in the middle of their nightly news update.

“This just in,” the announcer began. “A huge brawl started at the eleventh annual charity motocross competition presented by the Risen Corp. Apparently, some unnecessary roughness from contender Royce La Chance caused a ruckus between Muppet co-stars, Miss Piggy and the Great Gonzo. The three were participating in the race for the charity event; the fight took place after la Chance was awarded the winning trophy when he was attacked by the diva. The brawl between the two caused Gonzo to jump in, ending in a brawl consisting of twelve people.

“Police have yet to state whether those involved were booked on charges, though there is a possibility of assault charges from all parties. In weather…”

Rowlf quickly turned off the radio and the trio was left in silence, only the sounds of passing vehicles making their way into the car. Nearly five minutes went by before Gonzo tentatively asked, “Do you think Kermit heard that?”

Almost immediately, the strains of some pop tune started to go off in the backseat, indicating that Piggy’s cell phone was ringing. She silenced it quickly before placing it face down on the area next to her. One minute after that, Gonzo’s cell phone started to go off, startling him, before he copied Piggy’s reaction and silenced it.

And exactly two minutes after that, Piggy’s phone went off again.

“Yeah,” Rowlf nodded. “I think he knows.”

A few short moments later, the group heard a beep that indicated Piggy had just received a voice mail. “What do you think?” she asked hesitantly.

“Well,” the dog began, taking on his familiar role as voice of reason and counselor. “We already know he knows, so…”

Handling the phone as though Kermit would jump at her through it, the diva went through the motions of retrieving her voice mail, while also putting it on speaker so that the others could hear as well.

“Piggy. I know you’re there. I’d ask where you were, but I have a feeling its county lockup. When you and Gonzo leave – and I know the two of you are together - , please invite the poor soul you’ve managed to con into bailing you out to come with you to the house. You’re going to have to come home eventually. And don’t think you can hide from me, pig; cause I’ll find. I’ll find you both. I’ll be waiting.”

“Well,” Gonzo began, nervously. “He…he didn’t…sound so uh…he sounded okay with it.”

“He’s going to kill us when we walk in the door.”

“Oh come on!”

“No,” Rowlf said. “I think she’s right; he’s going to kill you.”

“Rowlfie, you gotta hide us!”

“No way!” the dog exclaimed. “You heard him. He’s going to find you. Especially if he gets Scooter on your trail, you know you won’t last.”

“Rowlf, please,” Gonzo deadpanned. “Stop cheering us up.”



There's your first part! Next up, can the pig and weirdo hide from the frog? And what exactly did these two do to land in jail in the first place?

 

[The Count]

What? You've got three stories going on at the same time? That's got to be some kind of record.
Yah, brake record!

This first part shows demonstrable improvement in your writing abilities. It's fluid, no typos I spotted while reading (though there may be some someone else may catch), it develops the main story from a reasonable starting point, and it gets the main duo in trouble with the frog they'll have to face sooner or other.

So this is the one where Piggy kicks butts and takes names huh? And I suppose she's all out of names, or bubblegum too for that matter.

The bit at the end with the cell phones made me chuckle. Reminds me of the fear of getting and opening a red-enveloped howler once Harry and Ron made it to Hogwarts in Chamber of Secrets. Kind of disspells the Chinese tradition of red envelopes being a sign of good luck cause they're usually stuffed with money.

Thank you for this, please post more as we're eager to read it all.
*Leaves carrot cake.

 

[charlietheowl]

This is great! Definitely intrigued to see if Piggy and Gonzo force Rowlf to head out on the run. Thanks for sharing.

 

[WebMistressGina]

What? You've got three stories going on at the same time? That's got to be some kind of record.
Yah, brake record!

Alright!

This first part shows demonstrable improvement in your writing abilities. It's fluid, no typos I spotted while reading (though there may be some someone else may catch), it develops the main story from a reasonable starting point, and it gets the main duo in trouble with the frog they'll have to face sooner or other.

I think I found one instance where I forgot a word, but I've been diligent! Diligence!

So this is the one where Piggy kicks butts and takes names huh?

Oh yeah, cause - spoiler - she does start that fight. But it was for a good cause.

The bit at the end with the cell phones made me chuckle. Reminds me of the fear of getting and opening a red-enveloped howler once Harry and Ron made it to Hogwarts in Chamber of Secrets. Kind of disspells the Chinese tradition of red envelopes being a sign of good luck cause they're usually stuffed with money.

It just goes to show that, even if Piggy can hold her own with her frog, doesn't mean she wants to. And speaking of which...here's the ending to that and the start of a new chapter!

ps - me no likely carrots! *throws cake against wall* They are my natural enemy. I do, however, enjoy white cake or lemon cake. Thank you.


Why Rowlf thought it a good idea to even stop by the home that Piggy shared with Kermit, they didn’t know, but both she and Gonzo were in the camp that the dog was selling them out. Driving up into the driveway, the dog immediately doused the lights, hoping that no one would see the car pulling up.

The three got out, with both Gonzo and Rowlf heading for the front door, while Piggy was walking around to the side patio door where the kitchen was. “What’re you doing?” she hissed.

“What’re you doing?” Gonzo asked. “Front door’s this way.”

“We’re not going through the front door.”

“Why?”

“Because I know the frog,” was her reply, continuing her travels while the others got up with her. “He’s sitting in the living room as we speak, arm chair poised at the door, so that when we go in, he’ll turn on the lights and then scold us like naughty teenagers.”

“What’s this ‘we’ thing?” Rowlf asked.

“You’re an accomplice now, Rowlfie.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah,” Gonzo replied. “You bailed us out.”

“And you drove the getaway car,” Piggy added.

“You might as well have been in that fight with us.”

“I wish he was,” Piggy murmured. “Would’ve gotten La Chance real good.”

The trek to the side of the house was done quickly, but quietly due to the fact that the lights were also off in the house. This would’ve made the diva extremely suspicious even she didn’t already know what the frog’s ploy was; of course the lights in the house were off. He was trying to lure her into a false sense of security.

Well, if there was one thing Miss Piggy knew better than the back of her hand, it was Kermit the Frog. Oh, he must have thought himself so very clever, sitting in that arm chair in the living room, facing the front door, just waiting for her and Gonzo to walk through and face the consequences. Well, laughs were on him.

Because she wasn’t about to face the consequences until tomorrow morning, after a nice cup of coffee and if she could, she was going to get Kermit in a more agreeable mood.

As luck would have it, the patio door wasn’t locked, which allowed Piggy to open it slowly before walking in. “The important thing is to keep quiet,” she whispered. “One misstep and the frog will be all over us.”

“Well, well, well.”

The voice came about two seconds before the lights came on, startling the trio that were trying to sneak in. Across from them stood the very frog they had been trying to avoid, casually leaning against the kitchen island that stood in the middle.

“Kermit!” Piggy exclaimed, looking between him and the darkened living room where he was supposed to be. “What’re you…what…why are you in the kitchen?”

“Oh,” the frog explained. “Instead of doing what I thought I would do, I decided to think like you. That lead me to figure that you would figure I’d be sitting in that arm chair in the living room, facing the door, just waiting for you and Gonzo to walk through. That’s when I realized that you’d probably sneak in through the kitchen.

“Now how about a hand for the frog?”

It took a full minute before the three could say anything, so stunned by the turn of events, they weren’t really sure what to say. “Well,” Gonzo managed at last. “It’s late, so we’ll just leave you two love birds to your…" The daredevil trailed off before saying, "Goodnight.”

“Hold on there, slick.”

Gonzo actually had the audacity to look around and point to himself, as though there must have been some other Muppet that Kermit would call slick at this time of night, in his kitchen.

“I’m actually going to forgo my…normal exasperation at the things the two of you could possibly do to hasten my eventual mental breakdown,” Kermit began. “And instead, I’m going to propose a different strategy.”

Piggy and Gonzo looked at each other before turning back to their leader.

“Okay.”

“The two of you are going to do me a favor,” he continued. “This is non-negotiable, by the way, and no amount of begging, pleading, or even sexy, flirtatious behavior is going to get me to change my mind.”

“I think that last bit was aimed at you,” Gonzo whispered.

“Really,” Piggy said, throwing the weirdo a look. “Think so?”

“Well, gentlemen,” Kermit replied, nodding to the others. “It’s late and I’d like to have a word with Miss Piggy.”

No matter how outwardly calm Piggy may have seemed, inside she was trembling. Sometimes talks with Kermit never ended the way she wanted and in a situation like this, where it was clear that he was more than just angry with her, always spelled doom.

The pianist and stunt weirdo must have known it too because they slowly turned to look at her.

“Go on home, boys,” she said, eyes never leaving that of the frog. “Thanks for the assist, Rowlfie.”

“Anytime, Princess,” the dog said, nodding.

“Listen, Kermit,” Gonzo began. He knew how tenious their relationship had been of late, with the two of them trying to get back what had been lost in the past. They seemed to have finally reached a place, a good one at that, that Gonzo wasn’t about to have ruined because of a spur of the moment crazy idea that he had had.

“This whole thing started with me. If anyone is to blame in this…”

“Goodnight, Gonzo,” they both answered.

The only thing the weirdo could do was sigh and hope for the best. Both he and Rowlf murmured goodbyes, before taking their leave the way they had arrived.

“Okay,” she responded, after the others had left. “Lay it on me. I know you’re holding back.”

Kermit smirked. While admittedly he was furious at this whole adventure, he could never say that when Piggy was ready to take responsibility, she took it the same way she did anything else.

With gusto.

“Darlin’, aren’t you tired?”

“Extremely,” she replied. “But I’m not going to bed if I know you’re going to be stewing next to me all night long. Unless of course you plan on sleeping alone tonight.”

“Gee, I hope not,” he said. “It’s been getting colder at night; you know I don’t like the cold.”

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“No.”

“Cause it seems like you are.”

“Have you always been this suspicious?”

“The things I pick up from you.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, if we’re done here…”

“You aren’t going to yell at me?”

“What for?” the frog shrugged. “That would be like asking you to not get in trouble and, I think we both know that will never stop happening. So, anyway, I’m going to bed. Obviously, having company would be nice, but I’m not gonna insist. But I would like to insist that you join me anyway. Coming?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m your loveable snuggle frog.”

“No really,” she insisted. “Who are you?”

 

[WebMistressGina]

And here's the first part to chapter one!


Chapter I


Now, that certainly sounds like Piggy and Gonzo got themselves into a heap of trouble. You all might be wondering what it was that they did to get thrown in jail after a fight on a racetrack. Well, this story starts about a week earlier…

One week earlier

Lunchtime at Muppet Theatre was as crazy an affair as any other day. People running back and forth, trying to finish up acts or create acts or even performing acts, while trying to get food into themselves was always a dangerous activity.

On this day, leading lady Miss Piggy was working on her own acts when the inevitable sensation of hunger hit her. Usually preferring to eat at home or that of a nice restaurant, there was little time to get food before needing to meet with Rowlf for their duet. So that meant having a meal in the theater cantina, which could sometimes be worse than eating out of a garbage can.

Piggy always tried to side on that of caution when eating anything the Swedish Chef, especially if Gladys wasn’t there supervising him. She had once thought no one could possible screw up a salad until he had actually managed to set hers on fire.

It must have been her lucky day because someone – Scooter she was sure – had gotten a caterer in for lunch that was serving a buffet style luncheon.

She had just sat down and had taken one bite of her chicken salad when a blue blur caught the corner of her eye. Even making a side glance, the blur didn’t move; in fact, it settled further into the chair next to her. A newspaper was flung in front of her plate, as though great effort had been taken at not throwing it on top of her plate.

“Look there on page seven.”

Piggy often found that sometimes, if you ignored a problem long enough, it would go away. Sadly, in the place where she worked and with the people she knew, usually ignoring the problem meant that it was persistent in getting her attention.

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“Oh Moi heard you,” she said, glancing at said problem. “But what Moi didn’t hear was a ‘hello’.”

The Great Gonzo, the diva’s current problem, heaved a sigh of annoyance. “Hello, Miss Piggy,” he grounded out. “Anyway, take a look at page seven there.”

“Isn’t a bit early for you to be ruining my day?”

“Normally yes,” Gonzo replied. “But I thought this would be worth the pain. Page seven.”

Reluctantly tearing herself from her lunch, Piggy looked over the article that the weirdo was so excited about on page seven. There was a huge splash page announcing the eleventh annual charity motocross bike race happening in Long Beach and was being sponsored by some water conservational company called Risen.

The charity event was to raise money for various research projects by the company and had attracted a bit of attention from local and national motocross bikers.

“Okay,” she said, after scanning the article. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Are you kidding?” the stuntman cried. “C’mon! With me and you in the race, no one’s gonna stand a chance!”

“Why are you including me in this?”

Gonzo gave her a look. It was no secret that Piggy had a bit of a fast and furious streak within her and it manifested itself in motorcycles. Kermit the Frog, their boss and her significant other, had no idea why she loved motorcycles so, but he stopped questioning it after a time. The fact that she also looked amazing wearing biker gear certainly helped her cause.

When Gonzo had seen the announcement in the paper, Piggy had been the first person he thought of to accompany him in this race, however he was also aware of the fact that just asking Piggy wouldn’t go over so well, especially when he was the one asking. While everyone else may have gotten away with flattery, the daredevil was in the rare camp at which flattery and sweet talk got him nowhere with the diva.

But, lucky for him, their relationship was as much categorized as frienemy as her love was for their band's bassist. He just needed to appeal to that part of her that wanted to win.

“Oh…well,” he began. “I had figured that you had wanted to do something that would bring attention to how great of a biker chick you were. You’re right, it was silly of me to even think of asking.” Heaving a big – theatrical – sigh, Gonzo began reaching for the paper.

“And here I thought you were fearless,” he continued. “I guess what those reporters said was true.”

Quick as a cobra on a field mouse, Piggy’s gloved hand clamped on to the wrist of Gonzo’s arm. “What reporters?”

Now that he had her interest up, it was time for Gonzo to get her hooked on the line. Feigning surprise, he said, “Oh? I thought you’d heard.”

“Heard what?”

It was always dangerous to get Piggy’s ire up, but if done correctly, one could get her to lead the charge against anything and anyone. This was the part that Gonzo had to tread lightly on – the one word or even saying it wrong would cost him.

“What those reporters said,” he continued. “That they think you’ve lost your edge, your touch, that you’re too…oh what was the word? Stagnant.”

That dangerous flash in those baby blues of her signaled that the daredevil had hit the right combination. Piggy loved reporters and she especially loved when she was in the news, but when it went against her, well…heck had no fury like a Piggy scorned.

As the resident and president of the Muppet Marketing Department, Piggy took her seat at the unofficial co-head honcho like a badge and if she wasn’t up to her best – and if the reporters knew that – her very seat could be snatched away from her. And Piggy would never let that happen; she was too competitive, too determined, and too vindictive.

Now all Gonzo had to do, hopefully, was reel her in.

“I of course defended your honor and good name.”

“Of course,” she murmured. He knew she could’ve cared less if he defended her – though if asked, he would have – it was the very fact that anyone could think her…stagnant. That would need to be rectified.

“Saturday morning, huh?”

“Be there or be square,” he said. Now that he laid the line and hooked her, he would of course need to be sure she wouldn’t flop off the boat. “And I’m more than sure that a charity event like this would get more spectators if they knew the fabulous and gorgeous Miss Piggy was participating.”

Okay, so he wasn’t above flattery if he could get away with it.

“Of course.”

“So…”

“Alright Gonzo,” she said. “I’m in.”

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, grabbing up the paper as he stood up. “I’ll go throw our names in the mix.”

As he past her chair, she couldn’t help but turn in hers and call after him. “Incidentally,” she asked. “What exactly is your role in all of this?”

“The race?” She nodded once. “Are you kidding? A high speed motorcycle race against eleven other competitors on a tiny little race track? It’s exciting, reckless, and dangerous.”

“Your three favorite things,” she quipped.

“Exactly.”

 

[The Count]

Hey! You don't throw food like that at the wall young lady! If you don't want it, then you politely say so. Now instead of having that piece of carrot cake, I gotta call as he's the only one who'd eat it.

Prologue Part 2:
That's 1, 1 smart froggy.
But what is this favor Kermit mentioned as punishment? The one that's non-negotiable no matter how much begging, pleading, or sexy flirtations are thrown his way?
Liked that ending as it shows Kermit has a level of maturity to him in the midst of such events that would normally throw him into arm-waving hysterics.

Chapter I:
Nitpicks...
Posted by Webby: "Piggy always tried to side on that of caution when eating anything the Swedish Chef, especially if Gladys wasn’t there supervising him."
Er, when eating anything the Swedish Chef "what"?
Posted by Miss Gina: "She had once thoughtno one could possible screw up a salad until he had actually managed to set hers on fire."
Er, no one could "possible"? Methinks you meant "possibly" instead.
What I liked mostly was how Gonzo was able to bait the diva into following him onto the motorcycle circuit. Some things that earned points for your house are:
1 Gonzo gave her a look. It was no secret that Piggy had a bit of a fast and furious streak within her and it manifested itself in motorcycles. Kermit the Frog, their boss and her significant other, had no idea why she loved motorcycles so, but he stopped questioning it after a time. The fact that she also looked amazing wearing biker gear certainly helped her cause.

Must have been inspired by Piggy's appearance in TGMC.
Then again, Janice in her biker chick get-up for Bop Till You Drop was pretty inspired also.

2 Quick as a cobra on a field mouse, Piggy’s gloved hand clamped on to the wrist of Gonzo’s arm.
Lovely phrasing.

3 As he past her chair, she couldn’t help but turn in hers and call after him. “Incidentally,” she asked. “What exactly is your role in all of this?”

“The race?” She nodded once. “Are you kidding? A high speed motorcycle race against eleven other competitors on a tiny little race track? It’s exciting,
reckless, and dangerous.”

“Your three favorite things,” she quipped.

“Exactly.”

And there's that shrewdness that marks Piggy's inner schemer, not fully trusting Gonzo but angered enough to fight the rest of the competitors instead of the weirdo.
Thank you for this, please post more when possible, and don't forget your other stories.

 

[Twisted Tails]

Ohh! Gina, this is rully perfect! Great story Like more please!

 

[WebMistressGina]

So firstly, I'm sorry I haven't responded to this. I meant to at the next update and...well...

Hey! You don't throw food like that at the wall young lady! If you don't want it, then you politely say so. Now instead of having that piece of carrot cake, I gotta call as he's the only one who'd eat it.

'M sorry.

Prologue Part 2:
That's 1, 1 smart froggy.
But what is this favor Kermit mentioned as punishment? The one that's non-negotiable no matter how much begging, pleading, or sexy flirtations are thrown his way?
Liked that ending as it shows Kermit has a level of maturity to him in the midst of such events that would normally throw him into arm-waving hysterics.

All would have been explained after our flashback to what happened during the annual race.

Must have been inspired by Piggy's appearance in TGMC.

Actually, yes and no. It was actually inspired by the bit that Piggy and the other pigs did on TMS - the one where they sing the Beach Boys' "I Get Around"; however, I have tied it in with the fact that Piggy wanted to do her own motorcycle stunt for TGMC, which I put somewhere. One of the Mondays maybe. Or something, I don't remember.

So...as I mentioned earlier, I had planned on doing the next update for this, but apparently my desktop didn't sync the updated version. However, I'm sitting at my desktop and see that I hadn't worked on this since I first started it on this computer.

Which means that the last time I updated was indeed on my laptop, which I remember doing. Sadly...I've recently reformatted my laptop, thinking that everything was fine and dandy and synced. And I've come to find that that's not what happened. So, my WORD version of this, stops at the first part of the prologue.

Luckily, to my knowledge, my very last update that I did was the one in which you see here, which I actually changed on site. So...I at least have a backup of that. What does that mean? It means I'm gonna have to copy this version into word and then work from there.

Again, luckily, I didn't lose anything that hadn't already been posted, but it means that Motocross will have to wait till the weekend now.

Sowry.

 

[The Count]

Is all right, we forgive you. *Leaves chocolate cake because I've been there, feeling bad and sad for myself even though it passes quickly... As soon as someone posts fic goodness. *Points nagging stick at Newsie and Ruahnna.
Hope your computers end up fine and stop eating your updates like okay.

 

[WebMistressGina]

Here's the next section of Motorcross before I totally forget it. Days late or a day early? You decide.


Later in the week saw Gonzo working on getting his motorbike up to snuff. The old stunt bike had been a staple in his act for years and it had been loath to stop riding it when he went legit as a plumbing magnate.

But now, with this race coming up, he was happy to be back in the saddle again. There was something about riding a motorcycle that felt so much like flying to him; he wondered if there had been any truth to his very own movie – if he was a member of a high flying race of space faring aliens – but he didn’t know and it didn’t matter anymore.

Even if he never did find out where he had really come from, either in this world or out of it, he had enough family to last him a lifetime.

But whatever his true status was, Gonzo was never happier than when he was in the air or had it going past him at a hundred and twenty miles an hour. That was probably one of the more common things that he shared with Piggy and one of the reasons he had gone to her first about this competition.

Her competitive nature aside, Gonzo knew the diva also enjoyed the thrill of high speed anything; that was one of the reasons no one was ever willing to be in car with her when she was behind the wheel. He was sure she was going to enjoy herself, even if she wanted to put up the front that she was basically being talked into it by him.

Because of the state of his bike and the very fact that he tended to use it during some of his acts, he kept it in a separate garage like area as part of the prop room. This was one of the bigger areas of the theater because it held many of their larger props, like ships and large building backgrounds. It was also the only place that Kermit would allow him to keep any of his own props, like his canons and of course, his bike.

And that’s where Piggy found him an hour later, working on getting his bike up to racing satisfaction.

“I know you aren’t thinking about bringing that hunk of junk with you.”

Gonzo looked up, though he knew the voice almost immediately, and looked around. “Are you lost?” he asked.

“I figured you’d be down here,” she stated, coming over to inspect the bike herself. While neither were professionals in regards to motorcycles, they pretty much knew their way around one and were especially expert in their own rides.

“Moi likes to scope out her competition.”

“Vous should remember who it was that got her in the thing in the first place.”

“Moi is positive she could’ve done it by herself, without the help.”

“And I’m positive vous is gonna wind up in a funny farm if you keep talking about yourself in the third person.”

“I don’t know why I bother.”

“I don’t know either,” Gonzo smirked. “Did you really come down here to give me a hard time?”

Piggy huffed. “Please,” she said. “I can go anywhere and give you a hard time. No, I actually came down here for a purpose.”

“Which was?”

“How dangerous is this race?”

“Shouldn’t be,” the weirdo replied, shaking his head. “Normal race, why?”

It was only when she took a steading breath, that Gonzo knew something was wrong. “You aren’t worried, are you?”

“Gonzo, remind me how many motorcycle races I’ve been in.”

“I…” the stuntman thought about it and couldn’t come up with any. “I can’t think of any…”

“That’s because I haven’t been in any motorcycle races,” she replied. “I must’ve been hungry or distracted to let you talk me into this. Sometimes, you can talk a good game, Gonzo…”

“Hey come on,” he insisted. “Don’t get hung up on the race, okay? It’s a ride around a track and I know you’ve done that before. And besides, you know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, right? You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well then,” he said, giving her a friendly pat on the arm. “You just gotta keep your mind on the goal and your eyes on me. I’ll make sure you’re right behind me.”

Without realizing, Gonzo had just issued a challenge that Piggy couldn’t ignore. “And what makes you think you’re going to win?”

“Are you kidding?” the daredevil replied. “You haven’t seen this baby go when she gets to it. You may have a fangled new toy, Princess, but it’s got nothing on my classic here.”

“So,” the diva began. “I don’t supposed you’re willing to put your money where your mouth is, assuming you aren’t afraid to do so.”

And just like that, the tables had turned in Piggy’s favor. Gonzo may have known that getting Piggy’s competitive nature going would have insured her compliance with him, but it was Piggy who was well aware that Gonzo never shied away from anything. And in this case, Gonzo’s own competitive nature was called into play.

The two could never leave well enough alone, much like how Piggy couldn’t just let Floyd Pepper off the hook when dealing with him; they just took an immense and insane amount of pleasure in irking the other.

Turning from his bike, the weirdo looked at the diva. “You know I’m all in,” he said. “Whatcha got?”

“Well,” the pig sighed. “Money would be irrelevant in this case, cause what would be the point, however I do believe this calls for something a bit different.”

“Such as?”

“If I win – and I will – you’ll have to wear one of those business suits you claim to own by never wear, for one week. Matching, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And,” she continued. “I’m going to need you to proclaim, to the world, that I am, have been, and always will be a better racer than you.”

“Pushing the limits there, Princess,” he said. “Okay. And if I win, which is a shoe in thank you, you get to be my stage assistant for a week.”

“Stage assistant?”

“Oh yeah,” he replied, a dangerous glint in his eye. “You get to assist me in all my exciting, reckless, and dangerous stunts for a week. And believe me, they will be exciting, reckless, and dangerous just to spite you.”

“You’re going down, Buzzard Beak.”

“Anything you say, Princess. Try not to get too much dirt in your eyes while you’re behind me.”