My Time to Meet the Muppets

[MollyArriba]

This is my first attempt at a fanfic, and it's VERY much on the self-indulgent side. Honestly, though, who doesn't want to meet the Muppets? Be on The Muppet Show? Now, I make a lot of assumptions in this, and I'm sure I make plenty of factual mistakes, but it's a fantasy. So, all that being said, here goes nothin'!

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I’d finally made it. There I was, ukulele in hand, sitting alone in the dressing room at the studio where “The Muppet Show” was being shot. Somehow, and I’ll never understand it, I’d made it to the Muppets.

It was 2015. The Muppet Show had been back on for two years now, and they were well into the third season. The last guest host to come through here had been Hugh Laurie, and his episode would be airing in about a month. After him was supposed to be Reese Witherspoon, but negotiations with her producer had gone south, and about seven phone calls later there I was, staring dumbstruck into a mirror and waiting for the make-up artists, aimlessly strumming my ukulele.

Of the seven phone calls that were made I had been involved in only one, and I’d never forget it. About three weeks ago, my agent, Rod, had handed me a phone.

“Who is it?” I asked.

He smiled and said, “Just talk,” and walked away.

I stared after him for a moment, then raised the phone to my ear. “Hello? This is Molly, may I ask who this might be?”

When they answered I screamed and nearly dropped the phone. It wasn’t a voice I often heard, but there was no mistaking it; Steve Whitmire.

“I’m so sorry!” I said, blushing and fumbling the phone. I could hear laughter on the other end, so I nervously laughed as well, “I just got a little excited is all.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” he chuckled, “Hello, Molly. I’m Steve –“

“- Whitmire, yes.” I couldn’t help interrupting, I was almost shaking, “You’re… you’re Kermit the –“

“- the Frog, that’s right.” He said. I could hear him smiling through the phone as he continued,

“We’re working on the third- well, you know, sort of sixth, but third season - of The Muppet Show, and, uh, we over here at the studio were wondering if you’d be interested in guest starring in one - “

I nearly shouted, “Yes! I mean, yes please, if it wouldn’t be any trouble. I’d love to, very much!”

I could hear him laughing again, “Well alright then! Okay, do you mind if I hand you over to someone else so they can take care of the details?”

“Oh, okay, uh, sure, no problem,” I spluttered, searching for a pen and paper, glancing frantically at Rod; he’d been grinning at me from the doorway for most of the conversation; he held up a pen and paper. I told Steve I was ready.

“Alright,” said Mr. Whitmire, “here he is.”

I waited a moment as he handed off the phone.

“Well hello there, Ms. Kaying.”

This time I did drop the phone, but I was too stunned to scream; Kermit the Frog had just spoken to me on the phone. I pulled myself into reality and grabbed the phone up off the ground.

“Sorry!” I gasped into the receiver, “The phone, it slipped, uh – “

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry, happens to me all the time,” he said calmly, “See, that’s a frog joke; slippery hands?”

I blinked, then started laughing. When I stopped, Mr. the Frog continued, sounding perhaps a little relieved.

“So, according to Steve, we are indeed expecting you to be a part of our little show in a few weeks,” he said.

“Uh, yes!” I said hesitantly, “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Oh good,” he said, “Now, just to make sure we’re all ready for you, I’d like a list of your skills.”

“My skills?”

“Yes, you’re skills. See, I’ll be needing it so we know what to do for your show.”

“Oh.” I paused, suddenly afraid I didn’t HAVE any skills. I snapped out of it and said, “Well, I sing a bit, and I play ukulele and guitar, but not guitar all that well, and Rod tells me I’m a fair actress, so there’s that…”

“Alright, got it,” said Kermit after a moment, “Singer, actress, ukulele. We’ll see if we can dig up a new ditty on the ukulele for ya.”

“Oh, it doesn’t have to be new, Mr. the Frog – er, Kermit. If you have one in mind you’d like me to do I’m sure I could learn it.”

“Well alright then, we might have a few oldies-but-goodies for you to look at!”

I paused a moment, then said, “Also, if it isn’t too much trouble, I’ve been known to scribble down a song or two, and if you think they’re good enough I’d like to perform one.”

“Alright, duly noted. Now, last thing; is there anyone here at the studio you’d like to perform with?”

My heart jumped into my mouth; I had been waiting for someone to ask me that question for nearly half of my life. Naturally being allowed to work with ANY Muppet would be a treat beyond measure, but to be able to choose? And there was only one Muppet I had dreamed and dreamed of performing with, or even simply meeting.

“Ms. Kaying?” Kermit coughed a little, “You still there?”

I shook my head, then said, “Gonzo… Gonzo the Great… if that’s alright with him.”

“Gonzo? Thee Great Gonzo?” Kermit sounded incredulous, as if it was a dangerous and ludicrous idea, but he chortled a little as he said, “Okay.”

I hesitated another moment, then asked, “Do you think… Mr. Goelz would be there as well? If it’s too much trouble I understand, but… you know.”

There was a moment of silence from the other end, then, “I’m sure we can figure something out! Well, I do believe that Rod has the rest of the information. It was wonderful chatting with you, Ms. Kaying, and we’ll call you when it’s time for you to come out here! Can’t wait to see ya here at the studio! Bye!”

“Goodbye, Kermit,” and the phone went dead.

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I suppose I should say I don't own the Muppets. Sadly, I have nothing to do with them at all, apart from obsessively watching everything of theirs I can get my hands on. I don't know Mr. Whitmire or Mr. the Frog.

 

[MissMusical12]

Wow!!! This is really good so far!

 

[MollyArriba]

Wow!!! This is really good so far!

Haha, thanks. I hope you're not just saying that. Kermit is not an easy voice to write. I had to try to imitate his voice and move my hand, say his lines aloud to try getting them even CLOSE to Kermit.

 

[MissMusical12]

Haha, thanks. I hope you're not just saying that. Kermit is not an easy voice to right. I had to try to imitate his voice and move my hand, say his lines aloud to try getting them even CLOSE to Kermit.

Wow. That's a lot of hard work.

 

[MollyArriba]

Wow. That's a lot of hard work.

Haha, not really. Took about thirty minutes... probably shows, too. I'll take some more time on the next part.

 

[MollyArriba]

I don't know all that much about the personalities of the Matt Vogel, David Rudman, Steve Whitmire, or any of them really. Thus, the people in the part aren't going to be as defined as all that. Bear with me, however, the Muppets will be appearing soon.
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Part 2

So there I was. It was the first of three weeks I was going to be at the studio.

I had been flown in with Rod and greeted by Matt Vogel and Steve Whitmire at the airport. During the first half of the drive over to the studio I wasn’t able to manage more than three words. It wasn’t until Steve whistled the first few lines of one of my favorite tunes.

I smiled a little at the tune, then sang, “…. Lydia the TAA-tooed lady.”


Matt, Rod, and Steve all grinned at me. Before I knew it I’d gotten my ukulele out and Matt had produced a guitar from somewhere, and we were all singing the entirety of “Lydia the Tattooed Lady.” This was followed by Billy Joel’s “My Life,” and Elton John’s “Your Song.” During this I contemplated telling Matt that the name of my ukulele was Pepper, short for Sgt. Floyd Pepper, but I elected to save that for another, less creepy time. When we arrived at the studio, it was eight o’clock in the morning and all my nerves were gone. I was being as loud and excited as I pleased, and fortunately no one seemed to mind at all; probably because they were sometimes as loud and excited as I was.

Rod volunteered to go to the hotel with our bags. I asked if I should go with him, but Steve said:

“No, we, uh, we need you here, we’ve got lots to show you.” He winked at me, so I winked at Rod, and thus my agent and I parted ways.

They led me to the side door of a large, square, white-brick building. Beside the door was a white sign that said “The Jim Henson Company Studio,” and below it was written in black sharpie, “One more link in the Rainbow Connection.” I pointed questioningly at the graffiti, but Matt Vogel shrugged and smiled.

“Hey guys,” said Steve; he’d already gone through the door, “let’s get going, shall we? Seriously, we’ve got so much to show you!” He grinned as Matt and I followed him.

When I went through that side door the three of us were met by darkness. Steve cursed somewhere to my left;

“Sorry. David said - ”

“David Rudman?” I couldn’t help interrupting him again. My heart was thumping with excitement.

“That’s the one,” Steve continued, grinning, “He said he’d be here at seven, but he’s probably in the workshop.”

My eyes widened as Steve walked away. The workshop! A place where many a pig, chicken, frog, dog, whatnot and whatever had been formed and, more importantly, deformed. Uncontrollably I began clapping my hands.

Matt Vogel laughed; my eyes had adjusted slightly to the darkness and I could see him doubled over with mirth.

“So, I take it you want to see the workshop, then?” he asked, laughter still in his voice.

“Oh man, you have no… ” but I stopped. I didn’t want to see the workshop. I’d heard stories from guest stars from the past, about seeing the Muppets in the workshop; hanging lifeless, lying on tables, nothing to bring them life. All I could think of was that, if I was going to meet them, finally, I wanted them to be alive.

“Not yet,” I said decidedly, “After the show… maybe, but not yet.”

A few moments later Steve jogged out of the darkness.

“So, Molly,” he said, “how about we go see that workshop?”

Matt chimed in, “Eh, not yet, Steve.”

Whitmire squinted at me through the darkness. He must have seen something in my eyes because he nodded and said, “Yeah, alright, I understand.”

Suddenly, there was a loud, metallic blast and my vision was shocked out of commission. Everything was white and blinding.

Matt groan, “A little warning would be nice, Rudman!”

“Oops, sorry!” said David; my eyes were adjusting as he walked toward us. “Bill said he’ll be around in a while. Hi, you must be Molly Kaying?” he held out his hand; I shook it.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Scooter… DAVID! Sorry, David! Man.” I let go of his hand, blushing.

“Haha, that’s alright, it happens all the time.” Looking off toward the right he said, “So, what do you think of it?”

I followed his gaze and gasped. There it was; the backstage set of The Muppet Show. Kermit’s desk, the stairs, the three doors on the top level, one with Miss Piggy’s golden star. I walked over to the set; it was much smaller than I expected, but at the same time somehow much bigger. There was a hole in the floor in the middle of the set to make room for the puppeteers; I’d have to do my best to ignore it later. Eveything, every little detail I could remember, it was all there.

“What do you think?” repeated David.

“It’s wonderful,” I answered, hardly above a whisper.

I got closer to Kermit’s desk, and there it was; the Kermit mug, next to a clipboard. I got a little closer and I noticed something under the clipboard and the other desk objects; names.

They were the names of most every star that had ever been on The Muppet Show, both the original and the reboot: John Cleese, Leo Sayer, Mila Kunis, Pearl Bailey, Leslie Uggams, Russell Brand, Darren Criss, Joel Grey, Madeline Kahn, Steve Martin and countless others had either scratched or inked their names into the desk. I stared, wondering how many other people actually knew about it.

“That was Jim’s idea,” said Steve, smiling at me as I traced the "D" in Danny Kaye, “Said it would give Kermit something more interesting to look at.”

I backed away, imagining my name, “Molly Kaying,” carved into the desk….next to all the people I admired most....

I was awoken from my musings by Matt Vogel clapping his hands and saying,
“Well, on with the tour?”

I nodded, and off we went.

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And that is the end of part two! I don't own nuthin' Muppets, and none this is true! I'll see if I can keep it going.

 

[MollyArriba]

Here we go again. There are Muppets in this one! I might have over done it, but in my head that's how I keep seeing it happen. YAAAYAYAYAAY!

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Part 3

I’d been at the studio for three days. During my first day on the tour, I’d met Bill Barretta and Kevin Clash. They showed me the rest of the sets; Rowlf’s piano, the setup for The Electric Mayhem, Miss Piggy’s dressing room. There were a few new sets that had been added on, such a Gonzo and Rizzo’s archeological dig and Kermit’s game show. I'd had yet to meet any Muppets.

I hadn’t brought up the topic of Dave Goelz since my conversation with Kermit on the telephone. Ever since Frank Oz’s official retirement, Dave Goelz was the only original Muppeteer who still performed, but he had been doing it less and less. In 2013, he’d finally gotten an understudy. I didn’t blame him, really; he was getting older. I knew when I had asked if he’d be here that I was asking far too much, but Gonzo wasn’t Gonzo unless Dave was there too.

After the tour, I went to the hotel. Once I’d settled in, Rod brought me a set of lyrics; “The Way You Look Tonight.” I smiled, nearly crying. It had been one of my favorite songs for many years, and something told me that Rod had something to do with its selection.

I spent all the next day working on the arrangement in the recording studio. They told me that it would be a comedy bit. Rowlf the Dog would be playing piano in the foreground, and after the songs instrumental intro I would come on stage in tophat and tails dancing with a whatnot. At some point, Rowlf would see that the whatnot was decidedly ugly, and he would begin to make mistakes in his playing.

I was glowing! Rowlf the Dog? How lucky do you get?

After a while we recorded the song; we went through it three times. They told me it was just a backup if I wasn’t feeling up to doing it live.

The next day, I learned that they were ready to shoot the number. I was sent through make-up, hair, and costume, which lasted about two hours, then someone rather unexpected (though a bit obvious, now that I remember) came to escort me to the stage; Scooter.

“Molly Kaying? We’re ready for you, Ms. Kaying!” he said, peaking though the door.

“Scooter!” I cried, completely astonished, trying to stutter out a coherent sentence; Scooter the Muppet had just walked into my dressing room! I was not prepared for this, but luckily my brain went into autopilot, “I – well, I didn’t think you’d be the one to get me to the stage!”

“Well, gosh, Ms. Kaying,” he said, bouncing into the room, “I am the Gopher. Go for coffee, go for donuts, go for guest stars. Besides, my uncle doesn’t own this theater!”

I laughed, starting to calm down, “Well, alright then. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Part of my brain wanted to say hi to David, but another part didn’t notice him at all. Suddenly, it was only Scooter.

“How do I look?” I asked. I stood and spun on the spot, posing with an irrepressible smile fixed to my face.


“Oh, Ms. Kaying, you look grreat!” he said, nodding, “now if you’ll just follow me – oh, don’t forget your cane! – right this way.”

He bobbed ahead of me, chatting about how he was “a real big fan” of my work; I gushed and said how lucky I felt to be in the show, my brain in overdrive. I kept forgetting that I was supposed to be the guest star here.

Scooter led me through a series of busy hallways; wigs, chickens, and half-made whatnots were being carried from place to place. Finally we reached the set, and there he was.

Rowlf the Dog was on the stage, looking over the arrangement and playing it out on his out of tune piano. Part of my mind said You met Bill Barretta just the other day, you know he’s there, but a MUCH stronger part was screaming with joy! I was about to meet Rowlf the Dog. I could hardly think, let alone breathe, and all I could hear was “Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston pie!” ringing in my ears.

Everything was moving around me, soundlessly, and all I could do was to stare at the dog. Scooter had gone to Rowlf and tapped his shoulder, whispering something to him. He began looking around, then his drooping eyes seemed to lock on to me. Scooter said something – I couldn’t hear what – and bobbed away. One of Rowlf’s great, furry paws beckoned me to him. I approached him slowly, without a word.

“Good to meetcha,” came his gravelly voice when I reached the piano, “I’m Rowlf, Rowlf the Dog.”

For a moment I was frozen, but then I laughed and somehow felt at ease.

“I know! When I was a kid, my favorite version of Fur Elise was yours from The Muppet Show!”

He looked at the piano keys, then back at me, his floppy ears swaying slightly, “Admittedly not my best number, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Well, I thought it was wonderful,” I said, holding out my hand, fighting the urge to say “Shake.” He took hold of it; his paw was warm and inviting, but still sent a chill down my spine. We shook, and I said, "I'm Molly."

“So I’ve heard,” he said, releasing my hand, playing a few keys, “I also hear that this little number you and I are about to put up is a favorite of our obliging guest star?”

“Oh, yeah. Fred Astaire? He’s one of my favorite actors,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the stage, “I mean, Gene Kelly was the hot guy, but Fred Astaire was graceful and charismatic,” I said. I’d been nervous that I wouldn’t be able to talk around Rowlf, but I suddenly found myself not capable of shutting up! I went on:

“This song in particular, actually, has always had a special place for me. See, back in school, I had a girl, and this was the first song we danced to. I led, of course – “

I stopped; Rowlf had been listening intently, his big round head leaning on one of his paws. I realized that he didn’t need to hear any of this, and probably didn’t want to. The moment I stopped and started blushing, he said;

“AAAH, puppy love! I know whatcha mean,” he played the piano as he talked, “I’ve had my share. The days are sunny, the birds twitter happily in the trees, then suddenly she’s dug up your bones and buried your heart deep within the ground.”

“Yeah… ” I said, smiling and relived, “It’s definitely something like that.”

“Uh, Rowlf? Ms. Kaying?” came a familiar voice, “We’re ready for you, if you’d like to get started.”

I turned around and was finally face-to-face with Kermit the Frog himself. He was small, of course, but at that moment I felt smaller.

“Ah, hello, Ms. Kaying,” said Kermit, bobbing up to me, “We’re glad to see you getting settled in.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, somehow perfectly at ease and feeling normal-sized again, “Everyone has been wonderful!”

“Well that’s just great, I can’t tell you how excited we are to have ya. Alright, everyone, let’s – ”

“KER-MEEEEEEET!”

Another wave of excitement washed over me. There was no mistaking that voice. Fozzie Bear came streaking out from behind a curtain. He reached Kermit and started gasping for breath. He finally caught it and said:

“Kermit! We’ve looked and looked, and oh, I tell you we can’t find in anywhere!”

“Fozzie, Fozzie, look, I’m sure it’ll turn up,” said Kermit, doing his best to keep
calm, “It was probably just misplaced.”

“But Kermit! Kermit, what if we don’t find it?”

My curiosity got the better of me, “Find what?”

Fozzie stopped panicking and turned slowly to me. He wound up his finger and pointed at me.

“AaaaAAAaaaah,” He said, “YOU must be Ms. Kaying!”

“That’s right, Fozzie,” said Kermit, “Now go on, keep – “

Fozzie continued as though Kermit hadn’t said anythink, “I know someone who is REAL EXCITED to meet you, aaaaah.”

I blinked, “Wait, what? Who?”

Kermit flailed with exasperation, “UUUUH, not now Fozzie! Now go on, I’m sure that dress is around here somewhere!”

“Yessir!” said Fozzie, saluting. He turned to me and said, “Waaaaah,” and bounced off towards one of the doors.

“HUH! Alright!” said Kermit, looking around, “So, how about we get started? I think you’d better get on that stage.”

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And that's that so far! I'm fighting with myself on how I should meet Gonzo, IF I meet Gonzo. Oh, and I do not own the Muppets of any of it. YAY!

 

[Twisted Tails]

Oh my goodness! I love this! Seriously love it, MollyArriba!

 

[MollyArriba]

Oh my goodness! I love this! Seriously love it, MollyArriba!

Haha, thank you! Something tells me it isn't a very original idea, but it's been rolling around in my head forever.

 

[MollyArriba]

I admit this part is VERY very impossible. It's VERY self-indulgent. But seriously? This is what I want more than anything. I tried not to make it too preachy and personal and what-have-you. I tried to make it sound half-plausible, and that didn't work. It's straight-up fantasy. Still, it's nice to dream.

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Part 4

It was four days after the filming of “The Way You Look Tonight.” Every time I thought about it my heart went wild! I’d blown one take laughing at the Whatnot, who had introduced himself to me as Leonard, and another take laughing at Rowlf because the look he gave us the first time he turned around.

I’d been a little nervous about this; the Muppets had always been able to make me laugh, so I knew I’d struggle to hold it in. Luckily, when I laughed, someone else invariably started laughing with me. Leonard the Whatnot couldn’t help laughing at himself, and the moment Rowlf heard me laughing he lost it as well.

Somehow I’d managed to perform it live, and Kermit never gave the call to play the recording from the studio. When we finished the scene, Kermit said:

“That was just lovely, Ms. Maying! How ‘bout a round of applause for our guest star?”

And everyone started clapping. I was glowing so much that I hugged Leonard the
Whatnot tightly, then ran to the edge of the stage to give Rowlf a hug as well; he laughed, hugging me back.

So, four days later I was back in my dressing room, without a script or lyrics. Rod had gotten a call that said I was to wear my nicest, most me clothing and come to the studio. So, in blue jeans and a grey t-shirt I arrived and was escorted by a VERY excited Scooter to the dressing room.

“What’s going on?” I asked him as he began to leave.

“Oh, just you wait!” he said, closing the door, “You’re gonna love it!”

I stared after him, puzzled. Sitting in my chair, I wondered what on earth could be more exciting that working with Rowlf the Dog? I mean, they’re good, but how can anyone top that?

Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I said, distractedly.

“It is I, Gonzo the Great! I have come to bid welcome to thee, our guest star!”

My heart nearly stopped. Gonzo. THE Great Gonzo. The Muppet I had been waiting for half of my life to meet. The Muppet I named when we were told to list out idols; Walt Disney, Johnny Depp, Gonzo the Great. The Muppet I loved so much that I'd learned to play EVERY SONG he'd EVER sung. Who's every stunt and feat of art had sent me into applause and awestruck admiration! I couldn't feel my feet. My face had gone numb. My mouth began to function without me.

“C-Come in,” I heard myself say; my voice was shaking uncontrollably. I tried to clear my throat.

The door opened, and there he stood; wonderful long nose, bulging eyes, three fingers, everything. He stood framed in the doorway wearing the maroon suit from the old days. I was frozen, staring, my mouth open like a fish out of water.

He zoomed over to me and held out his hand; in it he was holding four dandelions.

“For you, fair maiden! I have picked these to show my gratitude! See, Kermit tells me that you asked specifically for Gonzo the Great! So here I am.”

I took the dandelions, smiling. I choked out, “Thank you.”

“Oh, no sweat! It was short notice, otherwise I’d have gotten you more.”

I laughed, looked at the weeds in my hand, and to my horror felt my eyes burning with tears. I hurriedly tried to wipe them away, but it was no use; they were flowing out of me now, quiet and messy.

“Oh, Ms. Kaying, don’t cry!”

“No, I’m not crying, it’s nothing.” I stuttered, attempting to turn away.

Gonzo’s eyes widened, “So your eyes leak naturally? Cool! Can you show me how?”

I laughed again, trying to quell the tears. Gonzo came up to me and rested his head on my sleeve, making me smile. I swallowed, coughed, and looked at the Whatever on my arm.

“I’m sorry about all this,” I said, wiping my face on a towel, “It’s just… you know.”

He paused, letting go of my arm and looking at the floor. He looked back up to me and said, “Not really, no.”

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” I said, smiling.

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Right, I see your point.”

I cleared my throat, “Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s a lot to take in.”

“Try me,” and Gonzo hopped into the chair next to me, poised to listen.

I looked at him for a few moments, taking in every detail. Then I took a deep breath.

“I know what it’s like to be… different.” I glanced at Gonzo, looking for signs of boredom or exasperation, but there were none, so I went on.

“I never could fit in anywhere; I sang all the time and talked too fast and I hugged everyone and said things that didn’t make sense to people. I was always nice enough, but I was a little… off. I know it sounds hokey and stupid, but I didn’t have many friends growing up. I freaked people out, and they didn’t know what to do with me.”

I paused again, nervous; I’d gone over all this so many times in my imagination, but it had never been this hard.

“Mmhmm, go on,” said Gonzo. My heart swelled.

“Well, once I go to high school, people had sort of started to get used to me. I was making a few friends here and there. I still felt… off. My friends never really got to know me; I was too weird, too different, too, you know, whatever.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said, almost sadly, but ironically.

“I know,” I said eagerly, “See, for a long time I was down, because I thought that I was just gonna be weird forever, and there was nothing I could do about it! But then, I saw The Muppet Show.”

I began rocking back and forth, talking fast, making hand gestures; I wasn’t nervous anymore, just over-excited.

“See, I saw The Muppet Show, and I fell in love with it like right away. Then, in about like season 2, you really started to shine! In season 1, you were down and unsure and unappreciated, and that was how I sort of felt. But then, in season 2,” I stood up, “you were trying to get girls and auditioning chickens and doing your thing, man! But you were still weird and people still didn’t get you! You were excited to be doing what you were doing, who cares if you were weird!”

Gonzo was leaning forward in his chair now, eyes enormously wide. I was pacing around the dressing room, waving my hands around my head.

“Watching that show, I realized that I can do MY thing, too! Who cares what people think about me? If they don’t get it, that’s their problem! So I did my own thing, and I was happy! Then, in season THREE! You found her! YOU FOUND CAMILLA! And she was a chicken! And you know, I looked at the two of you, and how you thought she was beautiful and talented! And you didn’t CARE that she was a chicken, and SHE didn’t care that YOU were a Whatever!”

I sat down in my chair again, leaning toward Gonzo, “And you know? That taught me that love is LOVE! And it taught me to not be afraid of it, to go for it, to not let it go too easily, you know? And it taught me that if other people don’t like it, to **** with ‘em!”

“YEAH!” said Gonzo, fist-pumping as best as his little arms would let him.

“YEAH!” I shouted, fist-pumping with him. Slowly, I felt the manic energy leave me, and I was suddenly very very calm.

“After all that, Gonzo, after watching your show and your movies, I’m happy now. I’m happy with who I am. I’m happy to be me. See, what I’m trying to say is… thank you.”

There was a pause. Then I leaned forward and gave Gonzo a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Oh Ms. Kaying,” said Gonzo, sniffing and rubbing his eyes.

“Gonzo?” I said, hugging him lightly, “Please don’t cry!”

“I’m not crying,” he said.

“Hey! You learned how to make your eyes leak!”

Gonzo sniggered, “Well, I’ve got to go. Kermit gave me some lines to learn! We’re gonna have a few scenes together, Ms. Kaying!”

“Really?" I said, "I can’t wait!”

"See you in a bit, Ms. Kaying! Oh, and watch out for that chair I was sitting in, I think it bites," and Gonzo whooshed out of the room as I laughed.

I sat in silence for a moment, breathing slowly. Then, something inside of me urged me to go to the door. I stood up and quietly walked across the room. I hesitantly opened the door.

Standing in the hallway half-dozen feet from the door was Steve Whitmire, Matt Vogel, David Rudman… and Dave Goelz. Without thinking, I ran forward and hugged him tightly. Dave Goelz laughed very quietly, hugging me warmly.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He laughed again, and whispered just as quietly, “Thank you.”

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Told you it was self-indulgent. I mean, even I'M like this is ridiculous. And I don't own the Muppets.... but I do love Gonzo with all my heart. Sorry if it sucks!