Muppet Fan-Fiction: Weddings Are Disastrous

[theprawncracker]

*leans back with feet propped up* *content* Carry on fair readers!

 

[redBoobergurl]

Very nice, love the check jokes! And the whole Scooter conversation and the Robin conversation. Love it all! More please!

 

[Muppetfan44]

Filled with Muppety chaos as always! I love the whole running gag bit with Fozzie, and Robin making sure he is still the ring bearer.

The whole check thing was also very funny, it reminded me when Kermit got ticked when everyone was shouting "Knock off the knocking it off's!" Awesome as always!

They still don't know where they are going on their honeymoon!
might I suggest Kokomo? hehe (in actuality i've heard that kokomo is actually quite sketchy! )

Can't wait to see what happens during the bachelor party! Great Job as always, please post more soon!

 

[The Count]

*Carries on by carrying Prawny off to his room, locking him there, and pocketing the key until he posts more of this story.

 

[theprawncracker]

Chapter 24

“This does not look good froggy baby,” Grover said nervously.

Kermit frowned. “Well the kids must—if Cookie’s trying to eat them.”

Cookie Monster was chortling deeply as about ten of Kermit’s nieces and nephews ran atop his furry, blue body—their tiny limbs tickling every inch of him.

Kermit scrunched up his face. “Well… at least Cookie Monster seems to be enjoying himself.”

Elmo pushed forward through the crowd of Muppets and people gathered in the corner of the theater. “Hey!” Elmo cried. “Being a ticklish monster is Elmo’s shtick!”

Robin tugged at Kermit’s arm. “Uncle Kermit can I go play on Cookie Monster too?” he asked.

“Well it probably won’t last much longer,” Kermit said. “Not if your dad’s bringing the cookies from the canteen.”

“Aw,” Robin sighed.

“Oh c’mon Uncle Kermit!” a perky little niece frog called, ceasing her bouncing. “It’s a whole lot of fun!”

“Please, Kermit, no let him come on Cookie!” Cookie Monster wailed. “It too—ha ha ha ha!-ticklish!”

Kermit shook his head. “I should’ve expected this.”

“Really,” Gordon said, “after forty years with us you think you would’ve learned.”

Kermit nodded. “Yes, well… still, we should try to help Cookie Monster.”

“Yes!” Cookie roared. “Help—ha ha ha ha!—help Cookie!”

“I think cookies are the only thing that can get him out from under there,” Luis said.

Kermit stood up proudly. “Fear not, for I, Kermit the Frog, have sent for cookies from the canteen.”

“Kermit!” Jimmy called as he came running towards the group.

“Speaking of which…” Kermit said.

“The canteen was out of cookies,” Jimmy said.

Kermit frowned. “Wonderful…”

“What do we do now?” Fozzie asked.

“It’s hopeless!” Telly Monster shouted. “Cookie Monster will just be stuck there forever! Oh the humanity!”

“Calm down Telly,” Gordon told the neurotic monster. “We’ll think of something.”

“Maybe Bert could dress up like a cookie!” Ernie suggested.

“What?” Bert asked, flustered.

“What a crumby idea!” Fozzie said. “Ahh!”

“It’s not that, I think Bert just has a chip on his shoulder!” Ernie said.

“Ahh! Good one!” Fozzie shouted.

“We still need to get Cookie Monster out,” Bob said.

“We should ask a grown-up,” Big Bird said.

“Si,” Rosita agreed. “Asking grown-ups questions is a great way to figure things out!”

“Why ask a grown-up when you can ask me?” a wild, disembodied voice asked.

“What the—”

Waldo spun down into the center of the group. “Hey! It’s Waldo!” Elmo said happily.

“That’s right frisky fella!” Waldo said. “And I can help you!”

Kermit looked at Fozzie, how shrugged. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Waldo C. Graphic,” Waldo said. “The spirit of 3-D!”

“Okay…” Kermit said. “And how can you help us?”

“Oh I can become almost anything!” Waldo said, turning into a coffee mug, a clock, and a magic 8-ball (each with eyes).

“So…?”

“So I might be just the cookie you’re looking for!” Waldo explained.

“He’s cooky alright,” Rowlf mused.

“Good one,” Fozzie whispered to the dog.

Kermit scratched his head and shrugged. “Alright then,” he told Waldo. “Show us your stuff.”

“Hold on just a second there eager amphibian!” Waldo said. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

“Deal?” Kermit asked. “What sort of deal?”

“If I save the blue guy, you have to save me from the crazy scientists chasing me around with a vacuum!” Waldo said.

“And here I thought Bunsen and Beaker were just on a clean streak,” Kermit said.

“So do we have a deal or what, frog?” Waldo asked.

“Deal,” Kermit said.

“Woo-hoo!” Waldo shouted, turning himself into a party noisemaker.

“Hurry!” Cookie Monster wailed, still laughing.

Waldo spun and morphed into a large chocolate chip cookie. He flew down to hover in front of Cookie Monster’s googley eyes. Said eyes lit up and as Waldo pulled back and flew higher, Cookie Monster leapt up, sending frogs flying.

“COOKIES!” he shouted loudly, darting after Waldo.

Thankfully most of the little frogs that were removed from Cookie Monster flew right into the bushy head of Sweetums and dropped comfortably into the theater seats.

One frog, however landed in the capable catching hands of Lew Zealand. Lew looked down at the frog in his hands. “A boomerang frog act?” Lew asked. He shrugged. “I like it!”

Kermit shook his head. “Good grief, did we really need that?”

“Need what?” Fozzie asked.

“This scene,” Kermit said, scrunching up his face.

~-~-~-~-~

“Sam you have to do it now!”

“But why?” Sam Eagle asked with a heavy sigh.

Gonzo put his hand on Sam’s back. “You wanna be able to come to Kermit’s bachelor party, don’t ya?”

Sam stared down at the weirdo. “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.

“Well ya can’t go unless you’re a bachelor!” Gonzo explained.

Floyd raised a questioning eyelid. “We ain’t bachelors…” he said.

“Nope,” Clifford said, shaking his head.

“But we’re goin’?” Floyd asked.

“Yup,” Clifford said, laughing.

“Hmm.” Floyd nodded prophetically. “The weirdo’s got a good head on his shoulders,” he said.

“For now,” Clifford mumbled.

“Will this party be cultural?” Sam inquired.

Gonzo’s eyelids shot up. “Of course it will be!” he said. “Do you think Miss Piggy would allow anything less than dignified?”

“Well what Miss Fat-Back don’t know won’t hurt her,” Floyd whispered.

“Can’t say the same for Kermit,” Clifford added.

“Well in that case…” Sam said. “I must go. It’ll be a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“I’m sure there’ll be other bachelor parties,” Gonzo reassured him.

“No, no,” he said. “An opportunity to see culture in this household.”

Floyd snickered. “We just won’t mention what kind of culture.”

Gonzo took a step back towards the railing of the upstairs at the Boarding House. “Alright Sam, it’s all you!” he said. “Knock on that door and just say exactly what we told you!”

“Exactly what you told me?” Sam questioned nervously.

“Yeah, no ad-lib!” Floyd advised.

“Don’t listen to him,” Gonzo said, shoving Floyd back. “Just say what’s in your heart.”

Sam looked down at his chest. “Are you sure it’s still there?” he asked.

“It must be,” Clifford said, “if you’ve been seein’ Marge for this long.”

Floyd shook his head. “That’s even more reason for it not to be there!”

Gonzo took another step forward, in front of his less than helpful partners. “Sam, listen… just pretend that you’re America—”

“A role I was destined to play,” Sam said proudly, posing most patriotically.

“Yeah… and pretend that Marge is… umm…” Gonzo scratched his head. “Marge is England! Big… mean… King George! And you’re just going in there to… vocalize your declaration of independence from her!”

Floyd and Clifford exchanged skeptical glances. Sam looked at Gonzo like he was crazy (so what else is new?), then reached out his wing and put it on Gonzo’s shoulder. With his free hand he wiped an invisible tear from his eye. “Poetry,” he said. “Thank you.”

Gonzo gulped, feeling extremely uncomfortable. “Erm… yeah. Just go in there and knock ‘er dea—well… just get ‘er do—…just do it!” Gonzo shouted, pushing the eagle forward towards the ominous door that led to Aunt Marge’s bedroom (which was Sam's bedroom... until he ran out... fast).

Sam gulped loudly as he stared up at the door—his door. An American flag adorned most of it, flowing in the light wind produced by the air conditioning. He slowly saluted it, gulped once more, and then grasped the door knob between his feathers. It turned slowly and menacingly.

It pulled open with a jolt, making even Gonzo jump. Aunt Marge pierced through Sam with her beady eyes, slowly turning into a very soft smile. “Hello Sammy,” she said to him (inside, Sam’s inner-American economy collapsed). She peered around Sam and glared at Gonzo, Floyd, and Clifford. “Come inside, Sam,” she said, “away from… them.”

Gonzo, Floyd, and Clifford all silently pushed Sam on as he turned back to look at them with a pleading gaze. Finally, the door slammed shut, and the flag, caught in the force, fell back on the door slowly.

The sound of Gonzo gulping broke the silence. Floyd and Clifford looked at him. He looked back. “He’s doomed!” Gonzo shouted.

Inside the room, Sam realized, Marge’s clothing had filled most of the floor space. He shuffled through it with his talons as Aunt Marge led him in. He never realized how foreign his own room could be. (The foreign atmosphere was especially strange because only a few inches of the room were not covered in American memorabilia.)

Aunt Marge plopped down on the American flag comforter on the Mount Rushmore headboard adorned bed and patted one of the red stripes next to her. “Come, sit,” she told Sam.

Now since Sam is not a foolish eagle by any means (ignorant, perhaps, but never foolish—that’s just foolish), he did as he was told and sat down softly next to the wrinkled frog. He stared at his feet as they bobbed back and forth against the end of the bed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Aunt Marge asked.

“Well I—”

“’Cause you’re actin’ weird—you never act weird!” Marge scolded.

“I… well it’s just that—”

“Have you been hanging around with those Muppets again?” Marge asked, interrupting again. “I know you haven’t been with me!”

“I know,” Sam said softly. “I’ve just been—”

“Heaven knows I’m trying to make this long-distance thing work, Sam, but it takes two—to—tango!” Marge said, prodding his chest with her scrawny finger at every word.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but—”

“And I know you’re not—”

Sam had shot up off the bed. “Aunt Marge!” he shouted. “We need to talk!” Sam demanded, finally.

“What?” Aunt Marge hissed, completely taken-aback.

“Don’t try to be coy!” Sam said, not caring if that word was used in the right context (was it?). “You knew this was coming.” Sam turned around swiftly, not looking at Marge.

Aunt Marge sat silently (I can’t believe it either!) and stared at Sam’s back. “What are you saying” she asked.

“Let’s not torture ourselves any longer,” Sam said, reciting the lines he was given by the others. “It’s time to break free.”

Marge remained silent and continued looking at Sam. She noticed him quickly glancing at his wing. “…did you write that on your wing?” she asked.

Sam fumbled with his own appendages and clamped them against his chest. “Of course not!” he said.

Aunt Marge smirked—Sam knew he was losing his position. No ad-libbing… he thought to himself. He squirmed slightly. Desperate times… “When, in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one person to dissolve the… relationship bands that has connected him with anotherand to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle him, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that he should declare the causes which impel him to the separation.” Sam said in one, swift breath.

Aunt Marge’s mouth fell open. “…I beg your pardon?”

“I am not done,” Sam said proudly (proud that he could remember this much). “We hold these truths to be self-evident—that all men—and eagles—are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness!”

“You can’t be serious,” Marge jeered.

“I’m afraid I don’t know any other thing I can be,” Sam said. He cleared his throat and continued his speech. “To secure these rights… relationships are instituted among Men—and eagles and frogs, deriving their just powers from the consent of the… relationed. That whenever any form of… relationship becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the… person in the relationship to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new… relations, laying the foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect his safety and happiness.” Sam put a lot of emphasis on “safety.”

Aunt Marge rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable,” she muttered.

“Believe it madam,” Sam told her. “Prudence, indeed, will dictate that relationships long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn—” Sam assumed those words were completely natural in this day and age. “—that eaglekind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is said eagle’s right, nay it is his duty, to throw off such a relationship, and to provide new guards for his future security.”

Aunt Marge turned and stared ahead of her. “It’s amazing how amazingly this fits, eh?” she said.

Sam didn’t stop talking. “Such has been the patient sufferance of this eagle; and such is now the necessity which constrains me to alter the former systems of this relationship. The history of the present Queen of Evil is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over this fine, upstanding, American citizen! To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world—” Sam threw his wings out at his side dramatically.

Aunt Marge groaned, loudly, and fell back on the bed.

Sam readied himself to list off his grievances. “She has refused to assent to daily freedom from her presence—which is most wholesome and necessary for the public good.”

Aunt Marge stood up and walked in front of Sam. “I get it,” she said.

Sam stopped and looked down at Marge. “You do?” he asked, surprised.

She nodded. “It was all spelled out for me by our forefathers,” she said with a smirk.

Sam gulped. “And… you’re not going to hurt me?”

“No,” Aunt Marge said blankly.

Sam tilted his head. “You do understand that I do not wish to see you… romantically any longer, correct?”

“Yes,” Marge said.

“May I ask why you will not be hurting me then?” Sam asked why she would not be hurting him then (er… now).

“Because, Sam,” she said, “I can only imagine that this has pained you enough, emotionally.”

Sam’s eyes shifted from side to side. “Erm… yes. Quite, in fact. Terrible emotional pain flows through my soul!” he declared, really hamming it up.

Aunt Marge patted Sam lightly on the shoulder. “Go, go on Sam, I can only imagine how much it must hurt you just to see me… go on my love! Be free! Save your perfect soul!”

She reached up and pecked Sam on the cheek, then pushed him towards the door.

By this time Sam’s beak had been agape for a decent amount of time. Marge opened the door for Sam and he walked out, dumbfounded, as the door closed behind him.

“Oh no…” Gonzo said. “She’s scarred him emotionally! That’s the worst kind!”

Floyd stared at Sam worriedly. “Is he… Sam… are ya… are ya okay?” Floyd asked.

“She didn’t hurt ya, did she?” Clifford asked.

Sam shook his head slowly.

“Not even emotionally?” Gonzo asked, sounding slightly disappointed.

Sam shook his head again.

Floyd, Clifford, and Gonzo each exchanged glances. “You did break up with her, didn’t you?” Floyd asked.

Sam nodded, slowly.

“Well then what’d she do to ya?” Clifford demanded.

“She… she kissed me on the cheek,” Sam said.

Floyd blinked (Clifford and Gonzo mentally did the same since they physically could not). “How in the name of John Lennon’s guitar did you manage that?” he asked.

“I… I ad-libbed,” Sam said. “And… I took… I took Gonzo’s advice.”

Gonzo’s eyes lit up. “Ha ha! I knew it would work! See Sam?” he asked. “I do have some good ideas!” Gonzo patted Sam’s back, hard. “Oh wait’ll I tell everybody! Ha ha!” Gonzo laughed, maniacally as he ran off through the Boarding House.

Sam covered his eyes in shame. “My reputation as a non-weirdo has surely been smashed…” he sighed.

Clifford laughed and comforted Sam with a pat on the back. “Relax dude, at least you’re free from Marge!” he said.

“Yeah!” Floyd said. “C’mon, let’s go celebrate by you buyin’ us some ice cream—you know, for our helpful services!”

Sam stood up and sighed. “Alright,” he said. “Only because I am a free eagle and it is my choice!” Sam stood up proudly.

“Mm… okay,” Floyd said. “As long as I get to pick the ice cream joint.”

“It is the least I can do,” Sam said.

“Right!” called the voice of Waldorf, apparently sitting at the end of the hallway upstairs with Statler.

“There’s nothing less than this scene!” Statler added.

“Wrong!” Waldorf said.

“What?” Statler asked.

“You must’ve missed the scene before this!”

 

[TogetherAgain]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! <GLOMPETH THE PRAWN>

TICKLING! ELMO'S SHTICK! COOOOOOOKIE! WALDO COOKIE/COOKY I LOVE ROWLF! And Sweetums. Boomerang FROG act! I can TOTALLY hear that. BREAKAGE OF THE FOURTH WALL!

And and and and and SAAAAAAAAAAAAM! <GLOMPS THE EAGLE!> Remind me to try that if I ever need to dump a guy. (Of course I'd have to GET one, first, but... )

MORE PLEASE! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

 

[Muppetfan44]

I LOVED the part where Sam transformed the Declaration of Independence to break up with Marge. That was priceless! I can totally see Sam doing that.

Amazing as always! Please post more soon!

 

[redBoobergurl]

Oh that Sam! That was pretty funny. Liked the bit with Cookie Monster too and Rowlf called Waldo "cooky" was pretty funny as well. Great stuff Mr. Prawn, let's see some more!

 

[Colbynfriends]

Gonzo took another step forward, in front of his less than helpful partners. “Sam, listen… just pretend that you’re America—”

“A role I was destined to play,” Sam said proudly, posing most patriotically.

“Yeah… and pretend that Marge is… umm…” Gonzo scratched his head. “Marge is England! Big… mean… King George! And you’re just going in there to… vocalize your declaration of independence from her!”

Floyd and Clifford exchanged skeptical glances. Sam looked at Gonzo like he was crazy (so what else is new?), then reached out his wing and put it on Gonzo’s shoulder. With his free hand he wiped an invisible tear from his eye. “Poetry,” he said. “Thank you.”

That was great. Marge as England, thats just too funny. good chapter, can't wait for the next one.

 

[AnimatedC9000]

Congratulations, Sam. You've set the example for American patriots everywhere.

And made the rest of us crazy people to laugh. XD

Seriously, where do you come up with this stuff, Prawnie? It's incredible!

Can't wait for the next chapter!

~ AnimatedC