Chapter 22
“Kermit!”
Kermit gulped. Miss Piggy never called him “Kermit.”
Unless, of course, it was important.
Or he was in trouble.
Kermit gulped again.
The frog turned around and smiled at Piggy from his desk at the theater. “Yes Miss Piggy?” he asked in his sweetest voice.
“We are getting married in two months, dear,” Miss Piggy said.
Another month had passed since Mickey’s big gala. Another month of mayhem delivered by the numerous guests of the Muppet Theater and Boarding House. Recently the theater had become occupied by more Muppets than the Boarding House (mostly because Aunt Marge had demanded she receive a real bed at the Boarding House as opposed to the theater seats).
“Yes, Miss Piggy,” Kermit said. “That’s what my calendar says.”
“Your calendar, Kermit, is correct. But does it tell you where we are getting married in two months?” Piggy asked.
Kermit frowned. “No… does yours?”
“Of course not!” Miss Piggy shouted. “So tell me, frog, do you know where we are getting married?”
Kermit squirmed and adjusted himself calmly. How could he have forgotten to tell Miss Piggy—oh, it didn’t matter now. “Yes Miss Piggy, I do.”
“That’s right you—” Miss Piggy stopped and her face grew calmer. “You do?”
“Of course I do,” Kermit said. “Honestly, Miss Piggy, I would think you’d have more faith in my planning.”
Miss Piggy smirked and laid her hands on her hips. Kermit frowned. “Well this is something important!” he said. Miss Piggy didn’t budge. “Something really important!”
“Yeah! Location is everything!” declared a pink monster with a long nose and a squeaky voice that popped up from behind Piggy.
“Mm-hm,” said another monster, this one burly and blue. “That’s rule one of BCAD.”
Miss Piggy rolled her eyes. Kermit’s curiosity had been tapped. “BCAD?” he asked innocently.
“Butch and Clyde’s Anti-Divorces!” Butch and Clyde said, as if delivering a sales pitch.
“Anti… divorces?” Kermit asked.
“Yes sir, mister Kermit sir!” Clyde said. “We’ll make your wedding so good—you’ll never want a divorce!”
“However if you do, we also run a law firm that handles those nasty divorces with flash and pizzazz!” Butch told the couple.
Kermit scrunched up his face. “Thanks fellas, but I think Miss Piggy and I will be—”
“I’ll hear nothing of it, frog!” Butch said, patting Kermit on the back (perhaps patting is the wrong word, as Kermit flung forward from the impact). “You’re stressed enough as is; let us handle your wedding!”
“Remember what happened when you handled our vacation?” Miss Piggy asked.
Clyde shrugged. “So the theater was almost destroyed and we never actually got anywhere… you have to admit it was fun!” he said with a one-toothy grin.
“He has a point,” Kermit said to Piggy.
Miss Piggy turned and glared down at the frog. “You can’t be considering this?”
“No,” Kermit said with a shake of his head. “But the vacation was fun.”
“So,” Butch said, whipping out a clipboard, “shall we put you down for the deluxe package? Or will you just want the essentials?”
“Tell me Bart—”
“Butch.”
“Tell moi Butch,” Miss Piggy said. “Does your law-firm also handle assault cases?”
Butch cleared his throat. “No… what makes you ask?”
Miss Piggy cracked her knuckles against her palm making Clyde cower behind Butch. “I was just wondering if I should have my lawyer on speed-dial or not.”
Butch gulped and retreated behind Clyde who stared in confusion. “No need,” the big guy said. “We’ll just be on our way.”
“Here’s our card,” Clyde said stepping towards Miss Piggy, who also stepped forward, hard. Clyde let out a scared whimper and ran off shouting, “We’re in the phone book! Just look us up!” as he went.
Miss Piggy whipped back around to Kermit, still angry. “So where are we getting married?”
Kermit would have been snarky and said, “A parking lot,” but he decided this wasn’t the time. “The Boarding House backyard,” the frog said.
Miss Piggy thought this location through in her head. “Well,” she said, “that won’t leave much room for photography.”
“Well we’ll hire a photographer to—”
“No, no,” Piggy said. “The paparazzo!”
Kermit’s face scrunched again. “You can’t be serious,” he said.
“Sure I can,” Miss Piggy said, nearly swooning. “Any talented, sophisticated actress can show a whole myriad of emotions.”
Kermit smirked and leaned against his desk. “Well no wonder you’re so talented,” he said sincerely.
Miss Piggy grinned smugly. “Good answer,” she said.
“So the backyard works with your plans Miss Piggy?” Kermit asked.
Miss Piggy wrapped her arms behind Kermit’s neck and put her snout against his. “Anywhere, mon capitan, as long as it ends with moi y vous in holly macaroni,” she said.
“Matrimony,” Kermit mumbled, snuggled sweetly in Piggy’s grasp.
“Mm, okay… as long as there’s macaroni at the reception.”
~-~-~-~-~
Gonzo watched as Sam Eagle paraded on the front lawn holding a boom-box booming loudly over his head. “How is this supposed to help me break up with Marge?” the eagle asked sternly over the loud music.
“Man, haven’t you ever seen that movie?” Floyd asked, restraining laugher as he leaned against the railing of the steps on the front porch of the Boarding House.
“I think that movie had a different outcome than we’re hoping for,” Clifford whispered to Floyd from his seat on the porch steps.
“Yeah,” Floyd said, “but Sam ain’t never seen that movie!” Floyd laughed and Clifford shook his head with a chuckle.
Sam continued to pace back and forth with the stereo blaring rock and roll over his head as Rizzo and Pepe came scampering out of the Boarding House. “I’m tellin’ ya, one more day in d’at house with d’ose kids and I’ll go bonkers!” Rizzo whined.
“Si, si,” Pepe said with a nod. “H’I can only take so much more of learning a new Spanish word every day, hokay! I got by with only knowing ‘caliente’ before, why stop now?”
Rizzo stopped and sighed, peering out onto the lawn. “Hey, what’s baldy doin’ ovah there?”
“Trying to break up with Aunt Marge,” Gonzo said blankly, leaning on the porch railing.
Pepe and Rizzo nodded. “Well d’at approach’ll nevah work,” Rizzo said. “Hasn’t he ever seen d’at movie?”
“What movie?” Pepe asked.
“Ya know… d’at one with da boom box on the lawn?” Rizzo tried to explain.
“Silence of de Lambs?” Pepe asked.
“Ye—what?” Rizzo asked, shocked by the answer from the prawn.
Pepe shrugged. “Es a good movie, hokay.”
“Have you ever seen it?” Rizzo asked.
Pepe laughed. “No way! Who watches movies anymore? We have JouTube now, who needs movies?” he asked.
“Huh,” Rizzo said. “Good point.”
“Can I please stop this?” Sam asked from the lawn.
Floyd looked at Clifford, who shrugged. “Mm,” Floyd said. “I dunno—she might not have seen ya yet!”
“But de wrinkly froggy…” Pepe hesitated, “womens, isn’t even here, hokay.”
“Shh!” Floyd and Clifford hushed Pepe.
“She’s… not?” Sam asked quietly.
Floyd panicked inwardly. “She’s not?” he asked. “Gonzo man, you told me she was here!”
“Me?” Gonzo asked, offended. He stopped his raucous response and calmed down. “Clifford told me she was here!”
Clifford lowered his sunglasses down his nose and glared at Gonzo. “Oh… no you didn’t,” Clifford said quickly.
“I t’ink he did, hokay,” Pepe said.
“I know he did,” Clifford said.
Sam put down the radio on the lawn and sighed. “Does that mean this will not work?” he asked.
Clifford, Gonzo, and Floyd exchanged glances. “’Fraid not, birdy man,” Floyd said. “We’ll have to try again when she’s around.”
“I think we need a different approach,” Gonzo interjected.
Sam looked at Gonzo—nay, stared at Gonzo. “What idea could you have that would help me?” Sam asked, not expecting much.
“A good one,” Gonzo said, piercing through Floyd. “I promise.”
“…Alright,” Sam said, conceding, “but only because it seems to be my last hope.”
Floyd looked from Gonzo to Sam multiple times. “One second,” Floyd said, “we need to have a meeting.”
Floyd, Gonzo, and Clifford huddled together up on the porch and Rizzo and Pepe shrugged, moving out onto the lawn with Sam and fiddling with the radio.
“Alright Gonzo, what’s the plan alien man?” Floyd asked.
Gonzo rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… I think we should give him good advice,” he said softly.
Floyd blinked. “What?” he asked, almost hissing.
Gonzo nodded. “I… I feel bad for him,” he said, stumbling over his unexpected words.
“You feel bad for Sam?” Clifford asked.
“Sam the Eagle?” Floyd asked. “The one who says all of your acts are immoral and indecent and un-enticing?”
“That’s him,” Gonzo said. “Not even Sam deserves Aunt Marge—or what we’re putting him through.”
Floyd muttered something and Clifford sighed. “I think he’s right,” Clifford said.
“Cruddy consciences,” muttered the musician.
“Trust me,” Gonzo said, “unconsciousness is worse.”
“Wrong con,” Clifford said.
“Is there a right con?” Gonzo asked. “I thought pros were the good ones.”
“Not this again,” Clifford said, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses (which sort of makes that description pointless).
Floyd sighed. “Alright, fine, we’ll play nice,” he said. “But you have to come up with the plan,” he told Gonzo.
“I already have one,” Gonzo said, walking away from the huddle, towards Sam.
“He does?” Floyd asked.
Clifford laughed. “You never know what to expect from Gonzo, man.”
Floyd blinked. “Guess you’re right.”
Gonzo looked up at Sam’s stern beak and sighed. “Sam, here’s the plan,” he said.
“Ooh, d’is oughta be good!” Rizzo said, nudging Pepe.
“Sam,” Gonzo said, “you should just talk to Aunt Marge.”
Rizzo and Pepe’s mouths fell open. Clifford patted Floyd on his back a he watched his evil plan crumble before him. Sam stared down at Gonzo, silent and unmoving.
“Just… tell her you can’t be her…” Gonzo bit his bottom lip nervously, “boyfriend.”
“Do you want me dead?” Sam asked eventually.
Gonzo laughed. “No, no,” he cleared his throat and straightened up. “No,” he said seriously. “I just think you deserve to be happy—albeit boring—but happy, nonetheless.”
“Are we thinking of the same frog?” Sam asked the weirdo.
“Ugly? Wrinkled? Mean as squids are tender?” Gonzo asked. “I think so.”
“And you expect me to just… talk to this woman and tell her my feelings?” Sam asked.
“Well… I wouldn’t go that far,” Gonzo said.
“Oh?”
“Well I wouldn’t call her a woman,” Gonzo said. “But yeah, you need to talk to her.”
Sam stood silently in thought, the others waited earnestly for him to speak.
“Okay,” he said finally. “But what do I say to her?”
Gonzo laughed wildly. “Oh, I was hoping you’d ask that!”
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