Chapter 20
A fishing rod leaned up against the wooden barricades of the porch and the line danced in the wind as it hung gracefully in the air.
The stars glistened in the eyes of Mom the Frog as Dad slipped his hand into hers suavely.
“Mm, and who said the city doesn’t have the same atmosphere as the swamp,” Mom mused quietly, laying her head on Dad’s shoulder.
“Well,” Dad said defensively, “we don’t have our log.”
“We’re on a bench,” Mom said, “it’s made of wood… I think we’re close enough.”
“How can you say that?” Dad asked. “Don’t you remember the first time we found that log?”
“How could I forget?” said Mom. “You were in your awkward anthropomorphic stage still—one arm was longer than the other!”
Dad scrunched up his face like a certain other frog he was very close to. “So I matured slowly,” Dad said. “I found the log though, didn’t I?”
“You did, yes,” nodded Mom. “But you also pushed me off the log, if I remember correctly.”
“There was a mosquito on you! I was trying to swat it off,” Dad said, defending his past actions.
“You couldn’t have just eaten it?” Mom asked with a smirk.
“It was our first date,” said Dad. “You expected me to bring out the tongue that soon?”
The two frogs laughed to themselves quietly and Mom squeezed Dad’s hand tight. “How long ago was that?” she asked softly.
Dad blew the air out of his lungs and laughed lightly. “A long time,” he said.
“Mm,” said Mom. “Is it still too soon?”
Dad’s eyes lit up and he leaned in towards Mom.
The door to the porch burst open and a vivacious red monster came running out gleefully. “Hi there!” Elmo said happily.
Dad and Mom straightened up and smiled. “Hello there,” Mom said.
“Elmo’s name is Elmo,” said the monster. “Are you green frog’s mommy and daddy?”
“We are,” Dad said, “and we’ve met before, Elmo.”
“Oh, Elmo knows,” Elmo said. “But Elmo’s mommy always told Elmo to introduce himself to grown-ups!”
Mom smiled. “That’s a good idea,” she said.
“But Elmo wanted to ask Kermit’s mommy and daddy a question,” Elmo said.
“Go right ahead,” Dad said.
“Oh, thank you!” Elmo said, running forward and climbing up on the bench in between the two frogs. “Elmo would like to know about the day Mommy the Frog and Daddy the Frog got married!”
Dad smiled and gave mom a look of mild annoyance. “Well… it was a hot day in the swamp…”
“Um, Dad the Frog?” Elmo interrupted.
“Yes Elmo?”
“Did Elmo interrupt something?”
Dad looked at Mom and Mom smiled at Dad. “No Elmo,” Dad said with a smile. “Nothing that can’t be picked up later.”
~-~-~-~-~
Kermit held a tall glass of champagne in his hand and stood with his arm around Miss Piggy’s waist. The two of them were making small talk with some random big-name star who wanted to approach Kermit about a cameo in the new movie—but Kermit, of course, directed the course of conversation a-way from that topic while Piggy was around.
Unfortunately, Kermit did this directing by conversing about a rather embarrassing subject.
“There’re how many eggs?” the actor asked.
“Oh thousands,” Kermit said with an enthusiastic smile. “All laid in the nearest plot of water we can find.”
The big name star let out a sigh of disbelief. “Ya don’t say,” he said. “Miss Piggy… what do you—”
“Watch it B-list, or you’ll drop down to the D-list in a swing of moi’s arm,” Miss Piggy growled at the actor, keeping her private matters, appropriately, private.
The man gulped loudly. “D-list?” he asked nervously.
“Death list,” Piggy’s voice rumbled from low in her throat as she lifted herself up higher in intimidation.
Kermit squirmed and pulled his arm out from Piggy’s waist. “Piggy, honey, why don’t you go mingle with Barbara and the others,” Kermit said, waving his arm in the direction of Barbara Walters and the cast members of “The View.”
Miss Piggy laughed lightly. “Kermie dear, doesn’t moi get enough clucking hens at home?” she asked.
Kermit smirked. “Why don’t you go see if you can teach them a lesson in class,” the frog said with perfect pitch and production that it could convince a fly to bird and a bird to fly, if just for a second.
“Mmm,” Piggy hummed lightly. “You’re good frog,” she said. “But I saw through your act after you said ‘honey.’”
“But you’re still going over there, yes?” Kermit asked.
“Of course,” Piggy said airily. “A modern diva such as moi’s self, must always entertain everyone at a party with moi’s presence. Ta ta dear,” Piggy said, pecking Kermit on his cheek as she strolled casually past.
“How do you do it, Kermit?” the still dumbfounded star asked.
“You learn to just go along with these things,” Kermit said with a smile. “So you’re interested in a cameo! Let me tell you what I have of the plot so far…”
~-~-~-~-~
“So, Mick, tell me, ya think you can up my paycheck due to… rodent relations?”
“Please, Mickey no has time for jou, hokay! Mickey is way to busy to waste his time on de vermin—Mickey is only interested in de truly talented king prawns, hokay!”
“Pft! De only shrimp Mickey’s int’rested in is da ones on the buffet!”
“King prawn, hokay!”
“Whatevah.”
“So wha’-do-jou say, Mickey, baby, jou want me in jour next big romantic comedy or what?”
“Puh-lease, you in a real movie? I’ve seen windows with more talent d’en you!”
“Si, si, but d’ey are a pane to watch! Jou get it Mickey?”
“Uh, listen, fellas—” Mickey Mouse started to say, but was, of course, interrupted.
“Mick, c’mon,” said Rizzo, “we’re basically family!”
“Mickey, Mickey, Mickey,” Pepe protested, “he’s a rat! Jou are a mouse, hokay. No relation, baby. Now, about de romantic comedy… I was t’inking maybe pairing me alongside Ashley Tisdale, hokay, she has de pretty… features.”
“And he ain’t talkin’ about da feature films,” Rizzo told Mickey.
Mickey messed with his cufflinks, trying to seem preoccupied. “Fellas, I really don’t—”
“No, no, I un’erstand,” Pepe said. “Jou’re busy Mickey, I get it! I know esactly how d’at is, hokay. Jou take jour time t’inking about it, hokay. Pepe isn’t going anywhere.”
“Unfortunately,” Rizzo muttered.
Pepe whipped around to face Rizzo. “Why? Why jou got to do d’at, Ritzo?” Pepe asked. “I will smack jou! I will smack jou—”
“Oh give it a rest, will ya?” said Rizzo, rolling his eyes.
Pepe’s face tensed and he suddenly leapt up from the floor and tackled Rizzo right into one of the salad holders on the buffet.
As the prawn and the rat engaged in their scuffle, Mickey slipped away, as fast and as inconspicuously as he could.
Rizzo looked up and spat a cherry tomato out of his mouth. “Hey, he’s gone!”
“Figures,” Pepe muttered, pulling a lettuce leaf out of his tux pocket. “Want to go find de duck?”
“Are you nuts?” Rizzo asked. “I can’t understand a word he says!”
“No, not nuts,” Pepe said. “Quacked, hokay!”
Rizzo stared at Pepe, and then punched his arm. “You have got to stop havin’ lunch with Fozzie,” said the rat, climbing out of the buffet and walking off.
“Hey! Hey! Wait for me, hokay! Jou’re not getting a movie deal without me co-starring!”
~-~-~-~-~
“Oh yes, Barbara, mon cher,” Piggy said to Barbara Walters. “Vous just look gorgeous in white! And what is your opinion on pink?”
“Miss Piggy, everyone knows you’re looking for another bridesmaid,” Barbara Walters told the pig.
Miss Piggy frowned. “Oh, you thought moi—ah ha! Ah ha ha ha,” Piggy laughed. “No, dear, you see, moi just has this old dress that simply makes moi’s hips look… boorish!”
“Don’t you mean boar-ish?” Whoopi Goldberg asked, garnering a laugh from those within earshot.
Miss Piggy shot a glare at Whoopi. You’re on thin ice, dreads, she thought. “But Barbara, vous would look wonderful in it, I’m sure!” Miss Piggy glanced at an invisible clock she pretended was on the wall behind Barbara Walters’ head. “Oh, dear, look at the time! Moi simply must be going! I told that stereotypically hot-bodied male superstar I’d give him a dance! Ta ta ladies!”
Miss Piggy took leave from the Viewers and wandered aimlessly around the perimeters of the dance floor. “Where is Scooter?” she asked no one in particular.
“Just saw ‘im miss,” said a bartender wiping out a glass at the bar Piggy happened to ask no one in particular next to. “Yellow kid with glasses and a blotch of hair?”
“Mm-hm, that’s him,” Miss Piggy said.
“Yeah, he just stopped by with some gal—hoo, was she a fox!” declared the bartender. “He came by and got a couple ginger ales for ‘em and went out on the alcove—alone.”
Miss Piggy processed this information and smiled, thanking the bartender. She made her way to the large, all glass wall on the end of the building and peered out into the night.
On the large alcove she saw Scooter and some tall woman in an annoyingly flashy green dress staring and pointing up at the sky.
“Hmm,” said Piggy. “To meddle or not to meddle…”
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
She whipped around to face Beauregard, who jumped back and waved slightly at her. “Hello,” Beau said.
Piggy sighed with relief. “Beauregard, don’t scare moi like that,” she said.
“Sorry,” said Beau. “I didn’t mean to. I was just saying you shouldn’t meddle with Scooter.”
“I wasn’t really going to,” Miss Piggy said.
“Oh, okay,” Beauregard said.
“Erm, Beau,” said Piggy. “If… if vous are in here… where is the limo?”
“Oh, I parked it right outside!” Beauregard said proudly. “I got a perfect spot! Really close to the building! You know, it was right where we all got out!”
“Come again?”
~-~-~-~-~
Waldo was bored.
Lying low and dodging super-sized vacuum cleaners wasn’t his idea of a good time.
He’d thought that once he got to the theater he’d be free to roam and have a good time.
He hadn’t, however, calculated for Bunsen and Beaker coming back to the theater too, and bringing their vacuum.
But now Waldo was alone in the play-house.
Or so he thought.
The obnoxious blue bug flew out from a crevice in a wall backstage (there were plenty to hide in) and buzzed around in search of something exciting to do.
Behind him, something heavy dropped with a thud.
Waldo spun around, turning into a baseball bat, and staring into the darkness behind him. “I—I have a bat! And I know how to use it!” he said, his voice trembling.
When nothing in the darkness moved, Waldo decided he was just hearing things and resumed his fun search.
Two beady yellow eyes opened in the shadows and followed Waldo as he flew.
Waldo stopped and hovered in front of a brightly colored cast poster and the eyes lurched forward slowly and carefully. When the eyes (and the body they happened to be attached to) stopped, directly behind Waldo. Slowly, the eyes rose up and then—
The glass came down in a flash and Waldo was trapped. He buzzed around insanely, desperately searching for a way out. On top, he was blocked by the bottom of the glass (ironic, no?) and on bottom, a clammy, rough blue hand blocked his path.
Waldo decided it would be best to try a different approach—so he turned into a lit candle and held the flame on the hand.
It didn’t budge.
The glass rose and Waldo became face to face with the yellow eyes. The creature’s free hand struck a match and raised it up to its face, so Waldo could see the wrinkled blue snout and sneering yellow teeth.
“Hello,” Uncle Deadly said. “You are a pest and I am the exterminator. Welcome to the show.” An evil grin spread slowly across Uncle Deadly’s face.
“B-but how did the flame not—” Waldo rambled.
“It doesn’t hurt,” said Uncle Deadly, “because I’m dead.”
Waldo swallowed loudly. “That’s a good reason,” he said.
“Thank you,” Uncle Deadly said. “But I don’t need a reason. I’m dead.”
~-~-~-~-~
“Well thanks Steve, I’ll definitely see what I can do about a cameo for you,” Kermit said, shaking the hand of a shorter man with slicked back black hair. “Good luck with your show!”
As the man walked away, Mickey Mouse walked up to the frog. “Meeting some new faces, Kermit?” asked the mouse.
Kermit smiled. “Well they’re meeting me,” he said. “How many people know about this movie?”
“Nearly everyone here,” Mickey said. “Except Miss Piggy of course.”
“Ya know, I meant to ask you Mickey, how are you keeping people from asking her about it?” Kermit asked.
“I printed it on the invitations,” Mickey said with a proud shrug.
“Thanks Mickey,” Kermit said.
“No problem.”
“I hope Animal isn’t causing too much trouble,” said Kermit apologetically. “I had no idea he was coming until we got here.”
Mickey laughed. “No trouble at all Kermit! We always like having your family here!”
Kermit laughed as well. “You should try coming over to our house.”
“I’d love to!” Mickey said sincerely.
“And we’d love to have you,” Kermit said. “But with the Sesame Street gang around… we can’t mix licenses ya know.”
Mickey nodded. “Good call.”
“Kermie!”
Kermit and Mickey turned to look at Piggy, who was dragging Beauregard behind her by his hand.
“Oh, Mickey mon cher! What a surprise seeing vous here!” Miss Piggy said. “Lovely party, dear!”
Mickey blushed. “Thank you Miss Piggy.”
“Kermie,” Piggy said, turning now to face the frog. “We have a teensy problem, dear.”
Kermit frowned. “What else is new?” he asked.
“Beau, here, left the limo parked out in front of the building and it was towed,” Piggy said, shoving Beau in front of Kermit.
“What!” shouted Kermit.
Mickey patted Kermit on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it Kermit, I’ll take care of your ride home.”
Kermit whipped around to face Mickey. “You will? Really? How can we possibly—”
Mickey looked around shiftily. “Just keep Animal away from the bar and we’ll call it even.”
Kermit, Miss Piggy, Beauregard, and Mickey all turned their heads toward the bar where Animal was jumping up and down wildly. “RUM! RUM!”
Kermit and Mickey looked at each other. “No problem. Beau, think you can…?”
“I’m on it, Kermit!” Beau said, saluting the frog and toddling off towards Animal.
“Problem solved,” Kermit said.
“One more problem, Kermie,” Miss Piggy said.
“What’s that?” Kermit asked.
“Vous have only danced with moi once,” Piggy said, rubbing up against Kermit sensually. “Do vous see the problem?”
“I do,” Mickey offered.
Kermit smirked and extended his arm for Piggy to take. “We’ll talk later, Mickey,” he said.
Mickey nodded. “Have fun you two!” he said, waving the happy couple off as they went to reclaim the dance floor again.
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