And so our stories continue...
Fozzie and Rowlf waited a few feet behind as Gonzo approached the receptionist. The two friends were a study in contrast; Rowlf was taking in the less than scenic scenery with an expression of perfect patience. Fozzie, on the other hand, was fidgeting uneasily, his eyes darting from Gonzo to the receptionist to Rowlf and back again.
“Oh, this is taking so long!” He protested in a hushed whisper.
“Hospital stuff usually does, Fozzie.”
“I just want to get Miss Piggy and go home!”
“What’s your hurry? There’s a cute girl over there, looking you over. Why don’t you go say ‘hi’ while we’re waiting?”
Fozzie turned a stricken look towards the woman, who smiled warmly at him.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” he whimpered softly. “Hide me!”
“Well, that’s an option, too.” Rowlf commented, unfazed.
“What?!” Their attention was drawn back to Gonzo and the receptionist. “What do you mean she’s gone?!”
Forgettting about beguiling stares for the moment, Fozzie made a strangled sound and pulled off his hat with a trembling paw. Rowlf shook his head in confusion, and then, noticing Fozzie’s reaction moved quickly to reassure him. “No, Fozzie, I don’t think they mean-“
“This is terrible! This is a tragedy! How could you have let this happen?! You said it would be fine!” Gonzo was carrying on like the word was coming to an end... a peaceful, dignified end.
“Poor… poor Piggy.” Tears were brimming in the bear’s wide eyes.
“Listen, I’m sure they don’t mean-“
Gonzo stomped backed to them, visibly upset. “I don’t, I don’t know how to tell you this, fellows, but Piggy-“
Fozzie abruptly began to wail. “Oh no! How could this have happened? How will we ever tell Kermit?!”
Rowlf patted him awkwardly on the arm. “There, there.” Gonzo shot a questioning look at Rowlf who shrugged. “What’s going on?”
“They sent Piggy home about an hour and a half ago.”
The frazzled receptionist called out, “We did not send her home! The patient insisted on leaving early this morning and so we accommodated her.”
Gonzo turned to face her again. “I don’t understand why you did that. She was way too sick just to go home alone.”
“Dr. Bernstein examined her and pronounced her fit to leave. Anything more than that is between the doctor and the patient.”
“So Piggy’s alright?” Rowlf asked, more for Fozzie’s benefit than anything else.
“So… so Piggy’s alive?”
Gonzo blinked. “Of course she is. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Well, you said, you said she was gone!”
“Well, I didn’t mean gone gone.”
“Well, doggone,” Rowlf chuckled, “Isn’t it time that we get gone?”
Yes,” the receptionist broke in icily, “it is. So, if you will excuse me, I have work to do.”
Fozzie settled his floppy brown hat back in its customary position. “Gee, this isn’t a very friendly hospital, is it?”
Rowlf eyed Gonzo. "You really have a way with women, don't you?"
"So you noticed!"
"Try to avoid 'em, myself... when I can."
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“Oh, yeah?! Well, come over here and say that to my face, you cretin!”
“She’s back,” Rizzo sing-songed cheerfully as he bounded towards the door where Piggy stood, bellowing at some unfortunate individual he couldn't see. “Heya, toots, how’s it goin’?”
She turned and leveled an unfriendly gaze at the rat, whose smile did not fade, though he took a cautious step back. He took in her wrapped head, pale face and visible exhaustion, and then his smile faded. “Oy, you look terrible.”
“So do you, but moi has manners enough not to mention it.”
Rizzo darted in and took her by the hand in order to lead her to a couch. “Sit down before you fall down, why doncha?” Piggy didn’t resist, sinking into the battered sofa with a relieved sigh. With her settled, Rizzo peered expectantly towards the door but no one followed her in. “Where-?”
“It’s quiet,” she murmured, missing his consternation. “Where are the unwashed masses?”
“Washing, if they ain’t still sleeping, and most of them are. I dunno who else is up.”
Piggy could hear the beginnings of the usual tumult in the large bathroom, but little noise elsewhere. She cocked her head, listening. “Beaker is up, but not Bunsen, Dr. Teeth is shaving, Janice is singing in the shower, and there are two, no, three penguins gargling.”
Rizzo stared at her, speechless.
“Not just delicately beautiful,” she informed him archly, touching her unharmed ear, “but useful.”
“Hm, well that is a neat trick.” He couldn’t quite keep the note of awe out of his voice.
“Comes in handy for tracking the frog, too,” Piggy said lightly, letting her eyes drift closed.
“I’m- I’m sure it does.” Rizzo decided that in the future that he would keep a little extra distance between them if he was inspired by a really cutting pig joke.
“I had no idea that it could be this quiet around here,” she mumbled.
Rizzo shrugged and hopped up beside her, angling for a better look. “You ain’t usually up early enough to catch the quiet hour.”
If he’d offended her, she gave no sign. “What are you doing up at this hour anyway?”
“You do know who my roommate is, dontcha? If Gonzo’s up, I’m up.”
“Oh, is he awake? I didn’t hear him laughing… or screaming.”
Rizzo looked at her in confusion. “Of course he’s up, he and the bear and the dog went to pick you up… didn’t they?”
Piggy’s eyes snapped open and she flinched as though it caused her pain. “Oh, um, no, I decided to walk home. Moi just couldn’t stay trapped in that place a moment longer.” Rizzo peered at her in concern for the plaintive tone in her voice and Piggy blinked and straightened. “I mean, they had no idea how to treat a superstar like moi,” she laughed nervously.
“You walked! But you’re hurt!” Boldly, he scrambled up the back of the couch and laid a paw on her forehead. “Have you got a fever? Or did you just get your brains scrambled? I mean, I know the ears work, but-“
“Get your filthy paws of me, ratboy!” She tossed her hair imperiously but Rizzo was undeterred.
“You are hot! I mean, heh, you got a fever! Wait… how hot are pigs supposed to be compared to rats anyway?”
Piggy pushed the little guy away from her vehemently and Rizzo flopped back down on the seat, stunned but unhurt. He shook his head to clear it.
“Easy now, princess, I’ll have you know that I am just trying to help. Are you feelin’ all right?”
She unobtrusively began rubbing her temples. “Moi am fine, Rizzo. Will you please just-“
“But why did you walk home? That’s a long walk, and no offense or nothin’ but you ain’t exactly Jane Fonda.”
“Rizzo-”
“I mean, you haven’t exactly been wracking up the frequent flyer miles at the local gym.”
“Rizzo! He ducked reflexively, but she didn’t swing and he sat up a little sheepishly.
“Sorry.”
Piggy turned her head, giving him a startlingly solemn look. “I can look after myself. I don’t need babysitting just because I bumped my head.”
“Well, it wasn’t just a ‘bump’-“
Abruptly Piggy’s arm shot out, and Rizzo’s life flashed before his eyes.
I shoulda eaten more of that peach cobbler.
However, Piggy did not strike him. Instead, she bundled him up into her arms for a tight hug that left him gasping. It was fair to say he would not have been more surprised if Gonzo had announced he was giving up chickens altogether.
“Uh-“ he began, when she did not seem inclined to let him go. “Piggy? Are you oka-”
“Yes! Now stop asking.” He couldn’t see her face, couldn’t in fact see much of anything but the dingy white of her shirt, but her voice was liquid with unshed tears. He wriggled around and she relaxed her grip enough to let him peek at her weary, yet composed face. Rizzo gave her a little pat on the cheek and to her credit, Piggy did not recoil.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I can see you’re okay.” He could see nothing of the sort, but Rizzo had no idea what else to say. Miss Piggy seemed mollified at any rate. She edged him off her lap and sighed.
“Sorry, Rizzo dear. I think moi will head to my room now for a little while before we get swamped by the morning rampage.” There were ominous rumblings floating down from upstairs. “Moi has a booming headache.”
“Did somebody say ‘booming’?!” Out of nowhere, Crazy Harry popped up and displayed the common Muppet problem of distinguishing the figurative from the literal.
In other words… boom!
Piggy clamped her hands over her ears and rounded savagely on the wildly laughing… Harry. “You are playing with fire, mister!”
“Did somebody say-“
“Oh, I’m going to bed!”
“-fire?”
Boom!
Amidst the smoke, Piggy made her way up the stairs to her room and disappeared. Seconds later a veritable mass of Muppets stampeded down the stairs looking for breakfast in some form; Crazy Harry being a highly effective, not to mention alarming, alarm clock.
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Gonzo, Fozzie and Rowlf returned less than ten minutes later where Rizzo hastily reassured them that Piggy had returned home by her own means. They resisted temptation and did not tap on her door or peek inside to check on her, deciding it was better to let her sleep at least for a little while until breakfast was over at least.
Rowlf poked at the eggish something on his plate with almost scientific curiosity. Gonzo was evidently preoccupied, shooting uneasy, and unsubtle in the general direction of Piggy’s room. “Hey, cheer up, pal,” he tried to encourage, “It’s good that she’s getting some rest… and we’re sparing her breakfast.”
“Probably saved her life,” Fozzie sighed as his own breakfast tried to bite him. A few titters broke out and the bear, ever tuned to the sounds of mirth, dropped his fork in surprise. “What? What’s so funny?”
“You are,” the dog chuckled warmly, patting him on the back as Fozzie’s food meandered over and started consuming the eggish thing.
“I am?” His face lit up. “I mean, of course I am! I said, I said…. Oh no! I forgot what I said that was funny. Oh please, please, Rowlf, tell me what it was!” He snagged the dog’s lop-like ears frantically. “Maybe I can do it again! Maybe I can use it in my act!”
Rowlf gently freed his ears. “Sorry, Foz, I don’t think it’ll work again.”
Defeated, but never for long, the erstwhile bear hung his head for a moment before taking up his fork again. “Where is-? Oh.” Breakfast had rejected the egg thing in favor of the plate it was sitting on. They watched in bemusement as it enveloped the china with noisy crunches.
“Perhaps it could use some all-purpose tenderizer,” mused Bunsen thoughtfully as he passed by.
Fozzie considered the matter for the moment before laying down the silverware. “Better you than me, buddy,” he told Rowlf solemnly. “I’m going to make some toast.”
He headed for the kitchen without acknowledging Rowlf’s baffling chuckles.
Gonzo said nothing.
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