Muppet fic: Once in a Lifetime

[charlietheowl]

Awww, I love seeing Scooter and Jan decide to get rings, it's so sweet. It's nice that he wants to show that it's not a big deal, that he and Jan can be a couple and be out about it. I do think they're missing an opportunity by not having Dr. Teeth pick out a ring for them, he probably knows the best jewelers.

 

[Slackbot]

Heh, good thought, but I think Scooter wants to keep it low-key. Dr. Teeth is not exactly known for subtlety. But, yeah, he just might be able to recommend some jewelers.

 

[dwayne1115]

I have been sitting on the edge of my seat all weekend waiting for more. I finally fell on the floor, but luckily I landed on my head.

 

[Slackbot]

Better get comfortable, because I've only started writing the next chapter. It'll be a few days at least before it's fit for consumption.

 

[dwayne1115]

Ok, that's fine I was just wondering what was going on.

 

[Slackbot]

Once in a Lifetime​

Part 4: Same As It Ever Was​

By Kim McFarland​

*****

Miss Piggy, wearing a smart yet stunning business suit in cerise with plum shoes and purse, entered the reception area of the law firm of Porque and Beanes. The receptionist, a young woman also of the porcine persuasion, greeted her. "Mr. Beanes is expecting you. Please come with me."

Miss Tamworth led her to her attorney's office and opened the door. "Miss Piggy is here."

The boar at the desk looked up. As Piggy took the seat in front of his desk she said, "Can you get me out of that contract?"

He knew this wouldn't be a pleasant consultation. He said, "Let me put it this way, Miss Piggy. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

She said, "Gimme the good news."

He told her, "You'll make a pretty penny for your appearance on Teeny Weeny Queenies."

"No," she told him. "Good news is, 'You'll have to pay a penalty for backing out of the show.' So, what's the penalty? I'll pay it. Just get me out."

"I'm afraid that isn't an option. They have a very tight contract. You cannot make appearances on any other television shows until you at least start filming theirs."

"What?" she exclaimed.

He laced his fingers together on the desk. "I'm afraid so. They need you now, which is why they are willing to pay you so well. They have no time to find someone else. And consider which network they're on. They have considerable legal resources. I believe that, considering what a tight spot they would be in if you did not do their show, they would not hesitate to file a breach of contract action. And the filming starts today."

"I am going to kill Bernie."

"Miss Piggy, why do you object to this show so strenuously?" he inquired.

"Mind your own business," she snarled.

"Fine," he said calmly. "But you ought to tell your agent. If he had known, he would not have booked you for this."

The heck of it was, Piggy thought, he was right. She had told Bernie all about her preferences, her expectations for compensation, and all the other details she believed he would need to manage her career. But she had never told him specifically to refuse all offers from childrens' pageants. She had not told anybody about her past as a pageant child; it was a part of her life she wanted to forget. And she had, until some magazine had dug up and printed a bunch of those old photos. And now it was being treated as a part of her career! She had been brushing off questions and offers ever since it had come to light. She hadn't thought Bernie would sign her to a show like this no matter how much they were offering…which was a lot.

Beanes watched as she went over all of this in her mind. She had an expressive face; she went through a lot of emotions before looking back at him and saying, "How about getting me a jury duty summons?"

He laughed. "Sorry, Miss Piggy. You may be the only person in history who has said that. No, I can't; it's actually easier to get out of jury service than it is to get into it."

"Yeah, I figured," she muttered. Why did Lady Gaga get a 'get out of jail free' card when it was Piggy who needed it? "Well, all right. I'll do their stinkin' show. They want Miss Piggy, they'll get it, all right!"

Alarmed, Beanes said, "Miss Piggy—be careful of your image. They are just little girls, after all."

She had to pause to think about what he meant. She hadn't been referring to the children. Then she smiled sweetly and said, "Moi, take it out on those dear children? I'd never dream of such a thing! After all, I was in their shoes once. I will give them the guidance I wish I had at their age."

"So, you will meet the obligations in this contract?"

She said, "Do I have a choice? Yes, I will, and I will bring that special je ne sais quoi that only Miss Piggy has to their show." He brushed her hair back, then smiled winningly. "Trust me."

Uneasily he smiled back. They were definitely going to get Miss Piggy. More that they could handle, he suspected.

**

Miss Piggy composed herself during the cab ride to the studio. They wanted a diva to teach little girls how to be divas? Maybe that's what they were expecting, but Miss Piggy had also read the contract over, and it specified that she would be the pageant mentor for those children, but not how she would mentor them. That was up to her. There were possibilities here.

**

When she stepped out of the cab at the studio, she suddenly felt cold. She was going to go back to a place—not a place, a situation—that reached deep into her childhood memories. They began to come to the surface. Wearing shoes that pinched her feet into pleasing shapes. Hours of boredom while her hair was being done, and then not being able to play because that would ruin her hairdo. All the other girls who, though they were the same age and should have been friends and playmates, were her rivals. The time, she had only been six, when her mother had slapped her hand for taking off her glove and eating a chocolate. She had taken the glove off to avoid dirtying it, but her mother had shouted at her for dirtying her lipstick and exposing her hand. Her hands must always be covered; her black, hooflike fingernails made her look like she belonged on a farm.

The memories hit her with shocking force. She summoned all her self-control, entered the studio wearing a bright, brittle smile, announced herself to the receptionist, and excused herself to visit the ladies' room.

She looked into the mirror. The face she saw was flushed, her eyes watery, as if she was ready to cry. What for? All of that happened years and years ago! There had been good times too. She told herself that, and called to mind the struts across the stage wearing winners' tiaras or ribbons or carrying bouquets. The way people cheered for her when she won. The celebrations with her mother, and her father when he had been alive. But behind those memories were the other, uglier ones, eager to play themselves out all over again.

Well, she told herself angrily, all that happened. And it had hurt. And it had made her stronger! She had been tender then, but she was a professional now. She could do this. And it couldn't be as bad as she remembered it, she told herself. She had been so young then. Little kids could hardly be objective observers.

She looked herself in the eye. The woman in the mirror was tough. She could handle a silly miniseries like this. What was she afraid of? Children in makeup? This is show business, not a docudrama. They were all here to put on an act for the cameras.

She stood up straight, gave herself a determined nod, and walked out.

**

There were a half-dozen people to talk to first. Administrators, flunkies, all those people who do things offstage. She met them with a cheery, masklike smile, and charmed them all. She would be delighted to mentor those lovely, talented children. And they were thrilled to be working with Miss Piggy, who could do so much more than teach them to be pretty faces. They wanted her to bring her own spin to the show. She would have complete creative freedom, within the constraints of the budget, of course. But the budget was generous. She smiled and remembered everything they said.

The business dealings out of the way, Miss Piggy was escorted to the green room. They were not filming yet; she would just meet the children and their parents. She walked in with a bright smile. There were six girls, all wearing unchildlike dresses, makeup, and elegant hairdos, each with a parent. Her smile froze.

*****

All characters except Miss Tamworth are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. All copyrighted characters are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Miss Tamworth is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.

 

[The Count]

Aw, why'd you leave it on a cliffhanger?
Yeah... And can someone please get me a can of anchovy buttered popcorn? It's hungry work hanging by my nose off of this cliff.

This was a good chapter... It further expands on the connection of your ficverse where you left it on Piggy's past in Masks. And the addition of the staff at Porks & Beans, I rully like when new characters and new locals are added to create another level of realness to the Muppets' world.

Thanks for posting.

 

[charlietheowl]

It will be interesting to see what Piggy is able to do with her job at the beauty pageant, since it obviously has such harsh memories for her, but being with the kids might give her the opportunity to help "break the cycle". I like the place you're putting her in here and gives her a chance to show another side of her character.

 

[Slackbot]

Thanks, guys. I'm not so comfortable writing Piggy, so it's nice to see she's coming across well, or at least interestingly. And, yeah, she's got some real issues to deal with here. She was the only one in "Masks" who didn't even try to overcome her issues, so it's only fair that she get another shot. What she'll do with this opportunity is anyone's guess. At this point, even she doesn't know.

The Count, actually, we've seen Porque & Beanes before, in "Muppets from Earth." They're the attorneys who got Camilla recognized as a person, leading to the decision that Muppets that can demonstrate sapience are "legally human," regardless of species.

 

[Slackbot]

Once in a Lifetime​

Part 5: Where Does That Highway Lead To?​

by Kim McFarland​

*****

It was a busy afternoon in the Muppet Theater, and even more chaotic than usual. Faced with the sudden loss of their guest star, the Muppets were scrambling to put together the coming weekend's show. Some, like Fozzie, were working with their fellow Muppets for inspiration. Others, like the Electric Mayhem, were preparing acts that had already been in the backs of their minds. And some, like the Great Gonzo, had more ideas than they knew what to do with, and were offering them all on the off chance that one or two might fall within the realm of feasibility.

Kermit and Scooter had enough to do sorting out the logistics of the show, not to mention changing the advertisements and other promotional materials and a metric myriad of other details. Kermit went to his office to take care of those issues, and Scooter stayed at the desk backstage left. He received the pitches for acts, which came in the form of scripts, skits or songs to watch, and "Get a load of this!" pitches. As he reviewed each one he added it and his notes to one of three paperclipped stacks.

That took up all of the morning. Gonzo alone had spent over an hour presenting his ideas, partially because Scooter let him go through the entire spiel for each one rather than cutting him short the way Kermit often did. Even if the acts he proposed were unsuitable, unworkable, or simply insane, his pitches were always entertaining. When, several hours later, Scooter looked up from his paperwork and realized that nobody was trying to get his attention, he grabbed up his papers and hustled over to Kermit's office. He went in and closed the door behind himself. Kermit looked up. Scooter said, "How's it going, boss?"

"Good. I can't do anything about the ads that have already been printed, and they didn't like changing the ones that haven't, but it'll be done."

"Great. Oop, there's canceling the travel arrangements I made for Gaga. I'll do that ASAP," Scooter said.

"So how are the acts coming along?"

"Not too bad. I've sorted them into three categories. Got a few that I think are keepers." He laid a thin stack on Kermit's desk. "Then there's the maybes." He put a thicker stack down. "And finally, 'Um….'" He put down the thickest stack.

"That's pretty good, considering," Kermit said. "Anything I need to deal with right now?"

"Not really, unless you want to."

"Well, give me the highlights."

"Sure. One of the keepers is Bobby Benson's Baby Band. He wanted to get on the show again, so I called him up and asked him to come up with an act. He already had one ready. Have you heard Let's Get it Started by the Black Eyed Peas?"

"Yeah." Kermit recalled the video he'd seen some years back. He remembered it as being nonsensical and chaotic…in a way that he could see on their stage, especially performed by a bunch of babies. "I like the idea. Better check the lyrics, though."

"He already had that covered. He's tweaked the lyrics—he gave 'em to me over the phone, he was that eager. He's coming in tomorrow. I think we can do some great stuff with the staging if we get on it early."

"Don't smash too many pianos."

"We've got a lot of old breakaway props left over from Newsman skits if we go that route. But I dunno, it might frighten the babies. Oh, and Sam wants to do an editorial."

They exchanged glances. Sam's lectures were dull, but they added variety to the show, and made the other acts look more entertaining by comparison. And if ever they could afford to give Sam a few minutes, it was now. Kermit said, "Put him down. How about Piggy? I haven't seen her around."

"I wouldn't bet on her, Kermit," Scooter said. "Her agent signed her onto a miniseries. It's filming this week."

"She told me her lawyer was going to get her out of it."

"I called his office a few minutes ago. He couldn't; the contract was too tight. She was miffed."

"Yeesh!" Kermit put his hands to what would be his forehead if he had one. "Why now?"

"It's only filming for a week. Too bad it had to be this week. And she's got a good number in next week's show," Scooter pointed out.

"Yeah, there's that. Anything else?"

"Nope. I'm still getting acts together. Once I have a good stack I'll be after you, don't worry."

**

Scooter returned to the backstage desk. Miraculously, there were no people or notes awaiting him. He called their travel agent and canceled the airline, taxi, and hotel arrangements he had made. That out of the way, he went through the backstage crossing to the other side. Janken was at the console, glancing around between several monitors. Most of them showed the stage from various angles. One was aimed at the wall the audience would see to the left of the stage. The one he was paying most attention to was showing an internet video. Scooter said, "Jan."

Janken looked up, then took out his ear buds. "Hi. How's it going?"

"Some good, some bad. We'll have a show, but Miss Piggy won't be in it."

"Ew. Not good."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Oh, let me show you something. I've been playing with the screen setup we talked about-"

Scooter laid a hand on Janken's shoulder. "Show me later, huh? It's lunchtime. Let's get outta here."

Surprised, Janken turned in his seat to face Scooter. Scooter said,"Right now nobody's trying to show me an act or pester me with details. How long do you think that's going to last? Let's git while the gittin's good."

Janken smiled. Scooter had promised he'd make time for their lunch date. Janken had been expecting Scooter to discover he had to postpone it—the show must go on!—and was pleasantly startled when he didn't. "I'm ready. Just gimme a minute." He began locking the console.

Scooter saw a familiar logo on the screen showing videos. "TEDx Tacoma?"

"Yeah. I've been watching TED videos in between 'film our rehearsal' requests. There's some good stuff."

"Yep. C'mon."

**

For lunch they went to a nearby deli that was a favorite for both of them. Scooter liked their sandwiches, and it had a salad bar that Janken could crawl into and live happily for a week. After they ate they went to a jeweler's that Dr. Teeth, the Muppets' resident expert on digital adornment, had recommended. Scooter hoped that he wouldn't regret asking his advice.

They entered. Janken's first impression was one of shininess and wood. Everything was either a rich brown surface or polished metal. In the cases, the gems' sparkle was larger than the actual stones. He was intimidated. 'Bling' was not what he wanted.

Scooter was taken aback as well. He was looking around, trying to decide if he wanted to walk out again, when one of the staff—he was too well dressed to call a clerk—said, "Scooter and Janken?"

A Muppet fan? He didn't know whether to call that a stroke of luck or not. "Yes."

"A friend of yours called this morning to tell me to take good care of you," he said with a smile.

Oh. "Dr. Teeth?"

"One of our best customers," he affirmed. "My name is Charles. What may I show you?"

The two Muppets were nervous, even a little shy. Charles had seen this many times before: a couple, not yet comfortable being known as such, who had never bought rings of any significance before. He treated them as any other new customer by keeping his observations to himself and helping them find what they wanted. He could tell by the look in a person's eyes when they saw something they liked; he knew it even before they did, and was able to guide them accordingly.

Scooter was surprised at how smoothly it went. Charles made very few suggestions after showing them several trays of samples; he seemed to intuitively understand what they wanted. It was if they led him to the ones they liked rather than the other way around. They found a pair of gold bands with similar engraved designs. He measured their fingers—Scooter wore a size 4, and Janken 4.5—and went into the back. Scooter and Janken exchanged glances, then grinned. Scooter looked pleased with himself, yet still a little nervous. Janken wasn't surprised. He put his hand over Scooter's and gave it a warm squeeze.

The clerk came back and brought them the rings. They tried them on. Scooter liked how it looked and felt on his hand. He said, "Yeah," and looked at Janken.

The Fraggle was looking at the gold metal against his purple skin. It was quite a contrast. But it felt comfortable. It was thin enough that it didn't feel weird when he pressed his fingers together. When Scooter nudged him he looked over. "Huh?"

"What do you think?"

"I like it."

"Me too. Shall we get 'em?"

"Yeah."

Scooter had researched prices beforehand. These were within what he was prepared to pay. The rest of the transaction was carried out discreetly, and they left with the rings on their fingers.

As they left Janken raised his hand again. The sunlight made a spark on the yellow metal. Scooter asked softly, "What're you thinking?"

"Shiny gold on purple. People will spot this across the room," Janken said.

"Yeah, it shows more on you than it does on me."

Janken lowered his voice. "As for what else I'm thinking, you've got a big kiss coming up at the right time."

"At the right time," Scooter agreed, and they grinned at each other.

**

Miss Piggy froze for a moment. Then her mask snapped into place. She sang out, "Hello, everybody! Moi is here."

There were a half-dozen little girls there. Each was made up to look like a little starlet. Piggy thought the effect was grotesque. Each girl was with her mother, except the one who was with her father. Piggy wanted to shout at them, ask them why on earth they wanted to force their children to be miniature, phony adults. But there were live cameras here. This was a reality show, and they'd be filming every single thing. She wasn't going to begin by throwing a ratings-boosting hissy in front of these poor kids. So, she took the chair that was obviously meant for her and said, "I'm sure you know all about moi. So, tell me about vous."

A bird spoke up. Her dress was all adornments, and her hair was streaked with color, making her look like a bird of paradise. After a moment Miss Piggy recognized her as a cockatoo. "My name is Tessie. I want to grow up to be a model. I've already started. This year I was in a Jean Zerpance Little Miss fashion show." She smiled triumphantly. Her mother did too.

Miss Piggy nodded. She looked at the girl to her left, a kitten with amazingly fluffy fur. "I'm Molly," she said in a very sweet voice. She walked up and, looking up at her with big blue eyes, held out a hand shyly. Miss Piggy recognized the 'adorable little doll' shtick; she had use it herself when she was a young piglet. Piggy shook her hand, wondering how deep that act went. Not too deep, she hoped; it made her teeth ache.

The next three—a spaniel named Kate, a beribboned pink monster named Julie, and a sheep named Duffy, seemed much the same to Piggy: little girls who would have been much more appealing if they weren't trying so hard to impress her with how grown-up they were. She was gracious to them all; it wasn't their fault their parents were doing this to them.

The last one, however, surprised her. She was a lizard, and apparently her hairstylist and makeup artist had wisely not tried to mitigate the fact. Her skin was scaly, her eyes yellow and bulgy, and she had a long tail that ended in an incongruous spiral poking out from underneath her skirt. She stepped forward—she was the one who had come in with her father—and said, "I'm Pepper. I didn't think I'd be chosen for this show, but when I heard you were going to teach us, I had to try. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, dear," Piggy said. This was the only girl who didn't simper at her. Or maybe Piggy just didn't recognize a lizard simper. She had probably been selected for variety's sake, the oddball of the bunch. Well, never mind, if she made it this far she must have something going for her. Piggy would find out what.

*****

Miss Piggy, Kermit the Frog, and Scooter are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC and are used without permission but with much respect and affection. All other characters are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.