Nightmare on Sesame Street

[RedPiggy]

Well, all that's left is putting some bondo on and stuff, but we have a new threshold now. Bear didn't ruin it ... it was rotted through and through. I'll try to work on this story some today.

 

[MartyMuppets]

Well, all that's left is putting some bondo on and stuff, but we have a new threshold now. Bear didn't ruin it ... it was rotted through and through. I'll try to work on this story some today.

What? Are you saying a BEAR! tried to break down your rotted door? That sounds really frightening!

 

[RedPiggy]

*giggles* Only if a rowdy 1 and a half year old chocolate male Lab is scary ... Bear is our dog....

 

[MartyMuppets]

Phew. Thank goodness for that.

Anyway back on topic, looking forward to more story.

 

[RedPiggy]

CHAPTER 3

“Mmmmmm, why, no, I’ve never even met any bull with that admittedly illustrious name,” cooed the beige cow as she had her left front hoof filed by a manicurist. She got off the phone when she saw the Count arrive, waving with her free hoof. “Why, Count von Count! Imagine seeing yooooouuuuu here! Do sit down – the stylists here are quite exemplary!”

“Do not let me interrupt, Madame Gladys,” the Count offered, bowing his head slightly.

Gladys giggled. “Oh, Count, you are toooooo much. I would never even dream of suggesting such a high-class inhabitant of Sesame Street could interrupt me.” She batted her eyes at him. “Do tell what brings you here.”

“Have you been having any nightmares? I find I have had trouble sleeping, myself.”

Gladys looked taken aback, thinking for several moments. “Why, no, I can’t say I have.”

“But Maria confirms she is having some.”

Gladys shrugged as the manicurist changed hooves. “Poor little Maria,” she offered, sighing. “If I had a child thinking of roping the bull, as it were,” she continued, giggling and blushing, “I suppose the implication I would be a grandmother to be quite upsetting. What if Gabriella makes her take care of any resulting infants?” She shuddered. “It would be so unfortunate to add so many new grey hairs to such an already middle-aged face like Maria’s.”

The Count chuckled politely and turned toward the door. “At least you appear to be doing vell, Gladys,” he noted with a weary smile.

Gladys nodded, grinning. “It’ll be a cold, cold day on the ol’ farm when I’m not well, kind sir,” she replied.

Later that day, the Count ended up at Kermit’s small house. A red convertible sat on the driveway.

Obviously, his lady friend must be there.

He hesitated as he approached the door. Should he enter? If they are having their usual problems, perhaps it would be best to wait until a much more opportune moment.

His hands suddenly clenched the air in front of him, his eyes bloodshot and squinty, his voice a growling cackle, “Who cares if she complains? I am the Count! I dare her to say one, that’s one cross vord! Ah, ah, ah!” A crackle of electricity caressed his body from the sidewalk to his hair, frizzing it slightly for a second or two.

The front door opened. Piggy looked him up and down and sighed, turning away from him. “Kermit! Vlad the Accountant is here!” she exclaimed in a shrill growl, slamming the door.

The door opened again slowly. Kermit sheepishly exited the house, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, Count,” he muttered. “Piggy’s being, well --.”

“Piggy,” Count offered with a smirk.

Kermit blushed and smiled, nodding. “I’m glad her fame precedes her. To what do I owe the pleasure?”


The Count bowed his head slightly. “I’m so happy to see you rejoining the Street life, my little green friend. Howewer, I am concerned. I have been having bad dreams about you and a young --.”

Kermit shushed him and pushed him toward the street. “Count, are you crazy?” he hissed.

The Count’s face betrayed an anxiety Kermit had rarely seen before. “Kermit, it is precisely why I am here.”

Kermit calmed down a little and sighed, shaking his head. “Before Piggy agreed to join our fledgling Muppet Show,” he told the gentle vampire quietly, “I was seeing Miss Mousey.”

Count nodded. “I recall your porcine lady friend vas rather resentful.”

Kermit nodded. “Before that, though, and no one else knows this, but Skeeter and I, well, we were seeing each other. A lot,” he added. “We had an argument and she ended up leaving. I have to protect her, Count. Piggy can never know. I can’t let Piggy kill someone who meant a lot to me. Let’s just pretend this conversation didn’t happen, okay?”

 

[The Count]

Mmm... So we're getting down to the nitty gritty.

Liked the scene at the bovine beauty parlor, but I had a bit of trouble following Gladys's comments about María's troubles.
Yes... Piggy has been vengeful against Miss Mousey. If you have the Muppet Movie DVD, go to the Frauley's Follies outtakes section and find out what happened to the poor lady mouse.

You know... An idea I had for a nightmare for this is if Elmo were to find his entire merchandising empire gone and replaced with... Zoe's World! The thought of Rocco being as focal a feature as Dorothy alone would drive the furry red monster to the brink of screaming.

 

[RedPiggy]

Gladys thinks Maria must be having trouble sleeping because apparently Gabi is in a relationship with someone. Isn't she going with Miles on the show? I dunno. Anyway, it's just her opinion.

Actually, my plans for this story just took a weird turn in my head while I was taking a shower half an hour ago. It was going to be just a tale of Count losing control of old, retired powers. However, a thought occurred to me and I think it's neat and I hope others will too.

 

[The Count]

It's not rully said if Gabi and Miles dated on the show. They were redcan-aged to the same age so they could have a double family graduation party between the Robinsons and Figueroas a few seasons ago, and that was kind of their goodbye from the show, except that Gabi showed up in a Letter/Number of the Day segment in Season 39.
I know that Gabi and Miles were an item in Prawny's Street Smarts, so there's that if you wanna go with it.

*Waits for next chapter.

 

[RedPiggy]

CHAPTER 4

The Count sadly walked away from Kermit’s house, even more melancholy than before. Just as he was about to get into a taxi, he heard a hissing whisper. Turning around, he noticed someone beckoning him from a bush. The person was roughly just slightly taller than Kermit, wearing a dark cloak, which hid the person’s face. A dark gloved hand beckoned him again.

Intrigued, the Count stepped toward the figure. “Greetings, it is I, the Count. I am called the Count because --.”

The figure hastily nodded. “I know, I know,” a female voice blurted out. “You like to count things. I watch the show, y’know, heeheehee.” The female slowly removed the hood covering her face. She had orange skin, a gopher-like face, and shoulder-length thick red hair. She had pointed glasses that magnified her tiny eyes. Smirking, she shrugged.

“You!” the Count exclaimed. “You are from my dreams!”

The female giggled and blushed, winking at him. “Come now, Count – I don’t think you’re my type!” She laughed. “It’s a joke, right? I’m not your type? Get it?”

Count von Count sighed. His voice had a slight hint of pleading in it. “I am not that kind of wampire!”

Skeeter nodded in protest. “Oh, but you are! I’ve seen it in the cards – you’re experiencing a power surge. Happens to all you types as you get older, heeheehee.”

The Count glared at her indignantly. “How are you such an expert, may I ask?”

Skeeter nodded toward some bushes behind her. “I have it on high authority. The Merchandise Man told me. He said in the old days you used to have all kinds of cool creepy powers, but you toned it down and now that you’re older you can’t hold it in anymore.”

The Count shook his head. “This … Merchandise Man … knows nothing of me!” he protested angrily.

A short squat blue-skinned Muppet humanoid appeared beside Skeeter. He looked like Mr. Johnson, but wore a black top hat, a hockey mask like in those horror movies but with the bottom half broken off covered the top half of his face, and a dusty cobweb-covered tuxedo with long coattails that he kept tripping over.

“Don’t you disrespect me, little man!” he growled in a deep voice.

“Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do,” chanted Skeeter in a creepy voice, wiggling her fingers as though she were trying to creep out the Count.

The Merchandise Man began to sing, “Sit down at my table.”

The Count shook his head. “You have not one, sir,” he replied.

The Merchandise Man shrugged as he sang, “If you relax, I’m just a simple entrepreneur. That just means I sell stuff,” he continued as he began to dance around a clapping Skeeter. “With Grover gone, I’ve got great news. Now us poor souls can make some money … I even made a brochure!”

Skeeter kept clapping and twirling around. “He’s a guru,” she told the Count. “He sells tutus. His inventory’s far and wide. Still, Count von Count – what you need is pride!”

The Merchandise Man nodded as different colored smoke pellets went off, making the Count and Skeeter cough. “You go take your powers in stride!” he sang finally, disappearing in a puff of gray smoke.

Skeeter coughed again and waved her hands around to dispel the smoke. Her eyes started to water. “Sorry about that,” she noted dryly as the smoke dissipated. “His stuff is lame like that ‘As Seen On TV’ stuff … but he sings some cool songs.”

Count von Count coughed a bit more before inhaling deeply. “Vat is the meaning of all this?”

Skeeter sighed, frowning. “We just had a huge song and dance number to tell you why! Weren’t you listening?” She grabbed his suit. “You … need … to … like … what … you … are!”

The Count frowned. “No, that’s vat you said. He said something about selling me things!”

Skeeter backed off and scratched her head. “Yeah … I guess that song was kinda sending mixed messages, huh?” She giggled. “Oh well. Can’t win ‘em all!” Her face fell, her voice hushed. “I am serious, though, Count. You need to embrace the you you’ve been hiding.”

“You mean instead of the vay you are hiding from Kermit’s lady friend?”

Skeeter glanced at Kermit’s house and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t hide who I am. I’m very proud of myself.” She inhaled and sighed, shaking her head. “But I’m not stupid enough to do it in front of Piggy. That’s suicide.” She stared at the Count. “I’ve been away from Kermit for a very long time, Count. I’ve had a lot of opportunity to meet all kinds of new beings. I’ve been all over the world! That’s why I know there’s a reason you’re behind everyone’s nightmares.”

“Oh? And vat exactly might that entail?”

Skeeter placed her hands gently on his. She looked deeply into his eyes. “Folks on your street have forgotten. Your powers are resurfacing because deep down – you know someone is forgotten. You’re reaching into our minds, trying to figure out who it is everyone forgot.”

“Who might that be?”

Skeeter shrugged as she turned to leave. “Who knows? I forgot.” She put a foot in the waiting taxi and stopped. “Count? I think you have to go west. In my dreams, I definitely get a Clint Eastwood vibe.” She entered the taxi as it drove away.

Kermit came out of the house, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Count? What are you still doing here?”

The Count turned toward him. “I may be getting closer to discovering the nature of my problem.”

“Oh?”

The Count nodded. “Do ve know anyone from the Old Vest?”

 

[The Count]

Riiight... You don't hide what you are Skeets. Then how'dya explain the hooded cloak we keep seeing you in in here?
Ooh... *Gets Dr. Faceliere vibe from that song and dance number. *Applauds.
Head vest young, er, old bat... Just remember to bring along some SPF 300 made specially for vampires.

Thanks for the update. More please?