Chapter 17
"What do you think you’re doing with that thing?" Benny Vandergast cowered at the sight of the gleaming scythe.
Deadly slammed the base of the scythe on the wood stage. He turned his snout to Skeeter, "Go." he told her. Skeeter nodded and drug Scooter off the stage.
Uncle Deadly turned back to the gray invader and looked him straight in his eyes. "I’m here to end this."
Benny smirked at the phantom. "Funny," he said. "So am I."
"What are your motives Vandergast?" Deadly stepped closer, dragging the scythe behind.
"Simple," Benny began to walk around the stage. "I want to put on a show. I want money. I want
other people’s money."
Deadly stopped. He stared at the gray man, who walked around him in a complete circle. "That is what you want?"
"More or less."
Deadly growled. "That is
not what this theater is about!" Deadly shouted. "It’s about singing, and dancing, and making people happy!
Not using people for their money!"
"Hmm," Benny pondered. "That must be why I want to bring about the end of the Muppets as well."
"What?" Deadly asked quietly.
"You heard me. The end of the Muppets. Not a very original dream, I know, but it’s mine." Benny smirked.
Deadly clenched his teeth, and his hands around the scythe. "What makes you think that it won’t turn out to be a nightmare?"
"That scar on your arm," Benny pointed to the phantom’s scythe baring arm.
"Have you seen what’s being held by this arm?" Deadly extended the scythe.
"I have."
"Do you know what it is?"
"More so than you."
Deadly stood silently. "What are you talking about?"
"You’ll find out soon enough," Benny said. "Just ask Death when you see him!"
Benny darted forward and slashed at Deadly. The phantom drew back, dodging the claw-like nails of the gray man.
Uncle Deadly used the scythe to jump, he flew through the air and swung it at Benny. The un-dead man narrowly dodged the swinging blade coming across his chest.
"You swing the blade as if you were Death," Benny shouted, throwing a punch at the phantom.
Deadly used the scythe to block the fist and jabbed forward with the blade, knocking Benny onto his back.
Uncle Deadly held the scythe’s blade at Vandergast’s neck. "I am not Death, he is gone. Because of you. They took him because of you."
A creeping grin grew slowly on the un-dead face of Benny Vandergast. "I know!" he shouted, rolling out from under the blade. He grabbed the clawed blue feet of the phantom, pulling him down. "And I’m going to make sure they take you too!"
<X>X<X>
"Skeet, I’m fine," Clifford reassured Skeeter who was carrying him around her shoulder.
"Oh yeah sure," Skeeter tugged Clifford and Scooter at her side.
"Dude, I’m fine! I promise!"
"Fine!" Skeeter dropped her boyfriend who fell on his back.
"Ow..." Clifford moaned, clenching his knee. "That gray dude’s got some arm."
"Yeah, well so do I." Skeeter hoisted her boyfriend back up.
"Well then why didn’t you put up a fight?" Clifford smirked.
"‘Cause I had this to watch this," Skeeter said, shoving Scooter up in Clifford’s face.
Clifford pushed the go-fer out of his face. "You gonna untie him or what?"
Skeeter shrugged. "I like the lack of incessant babbling."
"Yeah, I do prefer muffled incessant babbling over regular incessant babbling," Clifford agreed.
Scooter squirmed around in the ropes brought upon him by Benny and squealed some unintelligible mock swedish-like muffling behind the makeshift muzzle.
"This is actually a very nice solution for my Scooter problem..." Skeeter joked.
"Ooh, yeah," Clifford nodded. "Maybe we could try duct tape next time."
"Hey! Watch it, he’s my brother!" Skeeter shouted.
"But you were just-"
"I don’t care, he’s
my brother! Only
I can say those things to him!" Skeeter stood defensively.
"Yeah, thank goodness he’s not mine," Clifford muttered.
"And just
what is that supposed to mean?" Skeeter glared.
Clifford stammered. "Well, uh, if he was my brother, that would mean, uh, that you were my sister...And uh, then I couldn’t date you!"
"Good answer," Skeeter dropped her twin and began to untie him.
Clifford let out his breath, that was a close one. "So whada we do now?" he asked.
"Beats me," Skeeter released her brother from the ropes and stood up.
Scooter ripped off his mouth restraint. "Thanks for the help you guys," he said sarcastically.
"Any time dude," Clifford put his arm around Skeeter.
Scooter glared at the couple. "Keep it up Cliff, I’ve got connections."
"I’ve got the same ones," Skeeter chimed in.
"Heh heh, she’s gotcha there dude," Clifford laughed.
"And Benny’s got uncle J.P. locked in some warehouse," Scooter broke the news.
"Say what now?" Clifford asked.
"Scooter...What’s going on?" Skeeter whispered.
"I don’t know, but we should hurry," Scooter said. "I don’t know if he’s going to...Well if he’s gonna be okay..." Scooter looked at his feet.
Skeeter charged at him and grabbed his collar. "Get us there Scooter!
Now!"
"I don’t have a car," Scooter pointed out.
Skeeter held on to her brother’s collar with one hand and forced her grasp around Clifford’s neck tie with the other. "Start your car. And get us there.
Now!"
"Ye-Yes ma’am," both boys said at once.
"Well what are you waiting for?! Let’s go!" Skeeter shrieked.
"We’re uh, waitin’ for you to let us go Skeet," Clifford said.
Skeeter dropped them both and growled. "Get! Get! Get!" she pushed them out to Clifford’s car.
>X<X>X<
Robin held onto his helmet tightly. He had never felt this low to the ground before as he felt now in the passenger attachment of the motorcycle, even being as short as he was. "Excuse me Polly," Robin shouted up to the lobster driving the motorcycle above him.
"Yeah, what?" Polly asked.
Robin shifted his weight. "Well, I was wondering what song you were gonna sing when you reunite with my Uncle Kermit."
"Song?" Polly looked down at the little frog. "Why would we sing a song?"
"Well you
are Muppets!" Robin said nonchalantly.
"Your point bein’...?"
"Muppets
always sing!"
"Heh, not us," Polly said.
Robin sighed. "I don’t think Uncle Kermit’s gonna like that..."
Polly shot to attention. "Right! Song! Heh, I was just jokin’, you know that! Uh, uh, Clueless! Song!"
"What?" Clueless asked from his motorcycle.
"Song! We need the song!"
"But we don’t know any songs!"
"Well what about ‘Professional Pirate’?" Angel Marie asked.
"Professional what?" Robin asked.
"Pie-rater!" Polly shouted. "Yeah, we...Uh...We sing about bein’ professional pie-raters."
Robin stared at the lobster. "Well if that isn’t Muppety, I don’t know what is!"
"Phew..." Polly exhaled. "Alright guys, ‘Professional Pie Rater’ number!"
"Oh how exciting!" Robin bounced in his seat.
"Yeah yeah, just keep it shut, this may be our only number. I think this song may be cursed with that..." Polly muttered.
"
When I was just a lad
Searching for a true vocation
My father told me son
‘This choice deserves deliberation’
‘Well you could be a doctor!
Or perhaps a financier
My boy why not consider
A more challenging career?’" Polly sang.
"
Hey ho ho
Your pie’s too hot for us
And we’ll rate your pies with dignity
And never throw a fuss," the rest of the pirate motorcycle gang sang.
"
True ingredients and tastin’
Are what we can’t live without," Polly sang.
"
And when you’re a professional pie-rater-"
"
That’s what the pie’s about!" Clueless sang.
"
Now take sir Muffin Man
Most people despise ‘im
But to the weirdos, he’s a hero
And they idolize ‘im," Polly made up the song as he drove down the road.
"
It’s how you look at
Pas-ter-ies that makes ‘em bad or good
And that makes us members of a noble brotherhood!"
"
Hey ho ho
We’re pastry rating men
And before we rate a pie
We will never rate with ten!"
"
On occasion there may be some pie
You have to rate acute," all of them sang.
"
But when you’re a professional pie-rater-"
"
You don’t have to wear a suit! ...Do ya?" Angel Marie asked.
"I coulda been a surgeon I like taking things apart!" Mad Monty said.
"I coulda been a lawyer but I just had too much heart," Polly told Robin.
"I coulda been in politics, cause I’ve always been a big spender!" Clueless said.
"And me," Really Old Tom said. "I coulda been...Oh, I don’t remember..."
"
Some say pie-raters squeal
When they’re pear-ed or kumquat-ed
But I say, give us apple
And you’ll be fairly rated," Polly sang.
"
We’d never rate your pie
With incorrect numbers
We’d never lie or cheat
We’re just about the nicest guys you’d ever like to meet!"
"Wow! This is great!" Robin grinned.
"
Hey ho ho
It’s one for pie for one!
We’ll rate and rate alike with you
And love you like a son
We’re gentleman of pastries
And that’s what we’re proud to be
And when you’re a professional pie-rater-" the dirty dozen sang.
"
You’ll be honest brave a free!
The soul of decency
You’ll be loyal and fair and on the square
And most importantly:" Polly sang alone.
"
When you’re a professional pirate
You’re always in the best of pas-ter-y!"
"Wow! Now I know what I want to be when I grow up!" Robin smiled.
Polly was breathing heavily. "Great, and when ya do, could ya rewrite the song to a slower tempo?"
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