Chapter 3
Kermit scrambled out of the yellow taxi cab and darted for the door of the humongous studio. He entered through two glass doors and ran up to the receptionist’s desk, stacked high with magazines. All around the walls were brightly colored pictures and paintings.
“Excuse me,” Kermit said to the receptionist.
The receptionist, who sat reading a magazine behind the desk, peered over the top of it with two beady eyes behind thin glasses. “Look, pal,” she said. “We ain’t hirin’ no talkin’ frogs right now, sorry.”
Kermit frowned. He sent his family to the theater without him for this? “I don’t think you quite understand; see, I’m Kermit the Frog—”
“Never heard of ya,” the receptionist interrupted.
Kermit scrunched up his face. “You must be new here, then,” he said.
“And you are starting to get on my nerves,” snapped the receptionist.
“Well then can you just let Mickey Mouse know that I’m on my way up?” Kermit asked.
“Yeah, right, like Mickey Mouse would know who you are,” scoffed the receptionist, rolling her eyes.
Kermit was now starting to get annoyed. “Now you listen here, for over fifty years, I’ve been—”
“Kermit! Kermit!” squawked an orange-billed, white-feathered, and nearly unintelligible duck as he ran out of an elevator towards the receptionist’s desk. The duck was wearing a nice suit top—but no pants. When he reached the desk, he put his hand on it, and panted. “Mickey—no, everybody’s upstairs waiting for you!” he said.
“I beg your pardon?” Kermit asked the duck. “Sorry Donald, but I can’t understand you. But I think everyone’s upstairs waiting for me, so could you show me up?”
“The duck’s a big star, of course he can show you up!” the receptionist said.
Kermit groaned. “Just take me upstairs, please, Donald!”
Donald Duck grumbled and muttered under his breath. “Yeah, yeah, follow me…”
Kermit followed Donald towards the elevator. He noticed that there was a tiny arm with a white glove on the end of it used to show which floor the elevator was coming from. Kermit smiled. “So Donald, what’s this big meeting about anyway?” Kermit asked the duck.
Donald gasped. “Mickey didn’t tell you?” he asked.
“No, he didn’t,” Kermit said. “He just said it was urgent and to get here right away.”
The gold elevator doors parted in front of them and the two animals stepped into it. Donald reached his feathered finger forward and pressed a button for the eighteenth floor. “Well it is—it is urgent!” Donald said.
“Yes, I know,” Kermit said. “But what is it?”
“It’s about the new movie, of course!” Donald said.
“New movie?” Kermit asked, completely baffled. “What new movie?”
“Oh Kermit, you’re so funny,” Donald said. “I know, I know… it’s been awhile since you guys made a movie, but we’ve been trying. This one really is happening.”
Kermit tilted his head to the side. “I beg your pardon?”
Donald laughed. “C’mon, Kermit, we’re sorry for keeping you waiting so long—”
“Donald, I really don’t know what movie you’re talking about!” Kermit snapped.
Donald blinked his big blue eyes. “You’re serious?”
Kermit nodded. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“Not a lot of people do,” Donald said.
Kermit smirked. “Well I understand you; I just don’t know what you’re—”
Before Kermit could finish his sentence, the elevator door opened and he was rushed into a conference room with a long table in the center. A mouse with big, black ears sat at the helm and two men whom Kermit didn’t recognize sat on either side of the mouse. Kermit gulped and sat down at the other end of the table, and Donald sat next to him.
“Kermit,” Mickey Mouse said to the frog. “Meet Jason Segel and Nick Stoller. They’re working on you’re new movie.”
~-~-~-~-~
Clifford stood on the stage of the Muppet Theater with Floyd Pepper, Pepe the King Prawn, and Rizzo the Rat. They all looked out into the rows of seats. Clifford shook his head angrily. “Man, the frog owes us big time,” Clifford told Pepe.
“Si, si, why would we want to hang around de children’s characters, hokay?” Pepe asked. “Di’s es not a good time.”
“You have no idea,” Oscar the Grouch said, eavesdropping upon the conversation.
The Muppet Theater bustled with the sounds of the Sesame Street gang who had just arrived thanks to the help of Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem bus, which served as a taxi driver and taxi (respectively) to the Street gang.
“Um, Clifford?” Beauregard, the Muppet Theater’s resident custodian said the co-host as he came on to the stage.
“Yeah, Beau, what’s up?” Clifford responded with a slightly annoyed tone to his voice.
“We are going to need a new row of seats before the show this week,” Beauregard said.
“What? Now why is that?” Clifford asked, now with a fully annoyed tone to his voice.
“’Cause Animal and Cookie Monster are goin’ one on one in seat cushion devourin’,” Rizzo said, pointing out off the stage into the seats, where, indeed, Cookie Monster and Animal ravenously consumed more seat cushions than should ever be consumed (which isn’t very many at all).
Clifford groaned. “Tell Scooter to put it on the agenda…” he sighed.
“Sorry Cliff,” Floyd said. “Scoots is too busy keepin’ track of how many people we’ve got here.”
“Ah, you are in need of someone to count?” asked The Count von Count. “Allow me! One, one Clifford! Two, two is Clifford and Floyd! Three, three is Clifford, Floyd, and Rizzo the Rat!”
Clifford shook his head. “Could ya do that somewhere else, please?” he asked.
“Certainly,” replied The Count walking away from the stage, counting everyone he passed.
“Well now that that’s taken care of,” Clifford said, “someone find Scooter.”
“Um, Clifford, I think we have a bigger problem,” Fozzie said sheepishly as he approached the stage.
“There’s always a bigger problem,” Clifford said. “What now?”
“That,” Fozzie said, pointing towards the theater entrance where about thirty frogs, a toad, a bull frog, and a horsefly were entering, with Robin leading them.
“And this is the theater!” Robin said happily. The young frog looked around the unusually crowded theater. “And they shouldn’t be here for a few more months…”
Fozzie and Clifford exchanged glances. “Dios mio,” Pepe muttered. “It’s going to be a long four months, hokay.”
“You can say d’at again,” Rizzo said.
“I do not want to sound repetitive, hokay,” Pepe said.
“It’s an expression,” Rizzo snapped.
“An expression of what?” Pepe asked.
“What?”
“Es it an expression of love?” Pepe asked. “Because, Ritzo, if it is… I am not ready for such a big commitment, hokay. And besides, I do not t’ink jou could bring in de big monies I need to be truly happy.”
Clifford reached his hand under his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. “Good grief…” he said to himself.
“Oh…” Fozzie said, looking at the mass of frog’s just entering the theater. “Well… yeah, that is bad. But, um, Clifford?”
“What?” Clifford snapped.
Fozzie cowered down. “Th-that’s not the bigger problem I was talking about,” Fozzie said.
Clifford’s mouth fell open. “Well then what is it?”
“Kermit still doesn’t know that the Sesame Street gang is here,” Fozzie said.
“He what? How could he not know?” Clifford asked angrily.
“W-well G-Gonzo never go-got through to him on the phone,” Fozzie said.
Clifford balled his hands into fists and clenched them, holding back his anger. “Where is Kerm anyway?” Clifford asked.
Fozzie shrugged. “I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him since we left the theater.”
“Wasn’t he with little green stuff?” Floyd asked, referring to Robin.
“Yeah, but he’s not now,” Rizzo said.
“Well d’en why don’t we just ask him?” Pepe asked.
“Fine,” Clifford said. “But don’t tell anybody else that Kermit doesn’t know the Sesame gang’s here.”
“Green frog doesn’t know that Elmo and his friends are here?” Elmo shouted, overhearing what Clifford had said.
“Still?” Bob asked. “Scooter, you told us Gonzo was calling him.”
“We can’t stay here if Kermit doesn’t know we’re here,” Gordon said.
“Me no can stay here anyway,” Cookie Monster said. “There no food.”
“Scoo de floor de woofle!” The Swedish Chef shouted as he ran out from backstage carrying a plate of green waffles.
Cookie Monster scratched his head. “Not even me eat d’at.”
“Where is Kermit, anyhow?” Big Bird asked.
“Wherever he is,” Aunt Marge said, “he ditched his dear old auntie in her time of need.”
“Time of need?” Jimmy asked.
“I need to find that gorgeous hunk of an eagle!” Marge said.
“Mit said he had a really important meeting,” Maggie said.
“With a big hunk of cheese!” Goggles added.
“Sounds like my kinda meetin’,” Rizzo said.
“No, no, dumby,” Croaker said to Goggles. “Kerm’s in a meeting with his boss.”
The Muppets gasped. “You mean… Mickey?” Fozzie asked.
“Do we have any other bosses?” Rowlf asked.
“Besides Kermit?” Scooter asked.
“Does he really count?” Gonzo asked. “I mean, Mickey is above him, should we still call him boss?”
“Si, we should start a yunjion or somet’ing!” Pepe said.
“An onion?” Rizzo asked.
“A yunjion!” Pepe said.
“Oh, a union,” Rizzo said.
“D’is es what I said!” Pepe cried.
“I thought he said onion,” Bert said.
“I never heard union,” Telly said.
“I never harmed an onion,” Rowlf added.
The chattering about onions and unions carried on. Clifford looked around the theater. “Where’s Animal when you need him to quiet things down?”
“Eatin’ seat cushions, remember?” Floyd laughed.
“Perhaps I, Grover, your furry, blue, doubling-as-a-megaphone monster could be of assistance?” Grover asked, popping up out of nowhere.
“Be my guest,” Clifford said.
“Oh, thank you, but I already am your guest. I am a guest in your theater,” Grover said.
“Just do it!”
“Yes sir!” Grover said, jumping into place. “QUIET!” he shouted, waving his arms wildly.
Everyone in the theater hushed and turned to Grover. “Do not look at me,” he said. “It is Clifford who wants to talk to you.”
“Thanks,” Clifford said. “Now… where’s Kermit?”
“In a meeting with Mickey Mouse!” shouted everyone in the theater, nearly knocking Clifford over from surprise.
“Ya’ll don’t have to shout,” Clifford said. “Anybody know what this meeting’s about?”
“Uncle Kermit didn’t say,” Robin spoke up clearly. “I don’t think Mickey told him on the phone.”
“Oh, I hope they’re not firing me,” Fozzie said nervously.
“Nobody’s gettin’ fired,” Clifford said.
“Really? Not even Piggy?” Rizzo asked.
“Especially not Piggy,” Clifford said.
“Yeah, that would make for one awkward wedding,” Floyd said.
“Ah, that’s one! One awkward wedding!” The Count shouted triumphantly.
“So we just know that Kermit’s in a meetin’ with the mouse,” Clifford said. “We don’t know where it’s at or what it’s about, right?”
“Left,” Beauregard said.
“Cut that out!” Clifford shouted.
“Cut what out?” Beauregard asked. “I don’t really think my cutting is too straight.”
“Ah, that’s two! Two straight!” The Count declared.
“Count,” Bob whispered to The Count, “that one wasn’t a number.”
“Really?” The Count asked. “Oh, excuse me.”
“I hope Kermit gets back soon,” Big Bird said.
“You and me both, bird,” Clifford said. “I’m afraid if he doesn’t hurry someone’s gonna start a riot!”
The maniacal looking Crazy Harry burst through the curtains onto the stage holding a dynamite plunger in his hands. “Did someone say riot?” he asked wildly, preparing to push down.
“Don’t hurt the preschool characters!” Gonzo shouted.
Crazy Harry looked down at Gonzo. He shrugged. “Okay.” Crazy Harry pushed down on his dynamite plunger, causing the ground beneath Gonzo to explode, sending him flying into the band pit.
“Oh dear!” Prairie Dawn shouted. “Is he okay?”
“Oh he’s fine,” Scooter said. “He probably liked that actually.”
Gonzo jumped out of the band pit with a harp strung around his shoulders. He laughed keenly. “That was great! Do it again!”
“I always said Gonzo was a little bit too high strung,” Fozzie said.
“Can we just end this scene, please?” Clifford asked.
“How do we do that?” Fozzie asked.
“We need a clever cliff-hanger!” Floyd said.
“Where will we get a cliff?” Pepe asked.
“No, no,” Rizzo said. “We just need something exciting and unexpected to happen.”
“Oh,” Pepe said in realization. “Maybe Maria could give me a big kiss, hokay, d’at would certainly be unexpected.”
“But we know what would happen after that,” Maria said angrily. “With cliff-hangers you’re supposed to keep the audience guessing.”
“I’m learning so much today,” Big Bird whispered happily.
“I should’ve stayed in bed today…” Clifford said.
“I meant to clean my room today,” Scooter said. “It’s a sty!”
“Are you sure that wasn’t Piggy’s room?” Floyd asked.
“That’s it!” Clifford shouted. “Piggy! If she came, then we’d have a great cliff-hanger ending.”
“How do we get her here?” Ernie asked.
“Shout ‘soooowie!’” Rizzo said, laughing.
“Someone should ring the dinner bell,” Floyd shouted. “That’d get her running here!”
Someone on the right side of the stage cleared their throat loudly. Everyone turned their attention there and saw Miss Piggy standing there, arms crossed, foot tapping angrily. “I beg your pardon?” she growled.
Clifford gulped. “That’s the scene!” he shouted quickly.
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