Okay, now that the admin stuff is done, here's that story!
There was always a tint of worry when it came to Muppet parties, especially Muppet parties thrown by Gonzo. They weren’t wild, per se, like something you would see out of a college fraternity, but they were still ruckus affairs that get out of hand just by the stunts the host could decide to perform at any moment or the fact that hundreds of people couldn’t exactly all fit inside a one-bedroom apartment.
But that situation changed during the pre-summer months. While Gonzo had been a daredevil in his former life, he hadn’t been crazy with his money and with said money, he had finally purchased a nice three bedroom, two bath house right off Santa Monica Blvd in West Hollywood; this actually put him not only closer to the studio from his apartment in South Gate, but it also put him closer to everyone else – Piggy would be to the west in Beverly Hills, while he was in close proximity to Kermit, Scooter, and Fozzie, who all lived in or around Hollywood proper.
And of course Gonzo couldn’t just move in, he had to have a house party, one he was more than happy to announce when walking in that Friday morning. That of course got everyone started on the ‘Muppet Party Rap’, starting with the Mayhem and descending from there – “Ain’t no party like a Muppet party cause a Muppet party don’t stop!” – until the entire room was in a musical uproar. And it was Friday, so why the heck wouldn’t they be having a party on a Friday? It was going to be a big party, that was for sure, with the amount of people who had totally said they would be there; there was only one problem with this scenario.
Gonzo had of course invited Kermit, who had asked – very nicely – if it was okay to invite his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Denise, who was definitely not his ex-girlfriend Piggy. The ex-girlfriend that Gonzo had planned to invite after his stop with his boss. And inviting her had been tricky –
“What’s up, loser?”
“Piggy, if there’s one thing I love about you, it’s your glorious greetings.”
“You’ve got five minutes.”
“You’re invited to my house warming,” he started, ignoring the very bored look she was throwing him. “However, there’s a bit of a snag…”
“What makes you think I’m going to waste my Friday night at your house?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he replied, sarcastically. “Am I keeping you form a quart of ice cream or a plate of donuts?”
“Watch it.”
“Anyway,” Gonzo continued. “I would like, very much, to invite you to my house warming. The snag that I mentioned earlier has to deal with our good friend Kermit.” Here, Gonzo paused before saying, “And his guest.”
“Did you come here to tell me that to see how Moi would react?” she asked. “Or to see if Moi would still bother to come?”
Gonzo smirked and decided to push his luck. “This act of yours may work on your assistants,” he whispered. “But you seem to forget that I know you and I have known you for quite some time. Hence why I’m telling you that Kermit is bringing his girlfriend, so that you aren’t thrown by it when you see her.”
The two of them had never been close and they probably wouldn’t ever be, especially if Kermit’s relationship with Denise ever went past dating, but there were times when the diva forgot that the others saw her as their friend too, even if they all gave each other a hard time over things.
Sighing deeply, Piggy said, “It would be mean of you not to let him bring her.”
“It would’ve been mean of me to not tell you.”
To be honest, Gonzo almost hadn’t invited either of them, knowing that putting the pig and the frog in a room together would certainly cause sparks and then to throw in a significant other that wasn’t the other party was just a recipe for disaster. However, despite whatever internal feelings Piggy had on the situation – something Gonzo knew full force – she and Kermit were at least somewhat friendly with each other now. And hopefully, they’d managed to not to burn down his new house with whatever combustible attraction while in each other’s presence.
[hr]
Denise run a hand down her blouse one last time before checking the time on the clock. Kermit had said he’d be by around seven-thirty so they’d be able to – hopefully – not be the first guests for Gonzo’s party. The brunette pig wouldn’t lie – she was nervous and extremely so. Despite being Kermit’s girlfriend for nearly four months, this was the first true time she’d be hanging out with his friends in a collective group. Oh, there was the one time he had invited her to join him at his friend’s tavern and while she had enjoyed herself, she did rather feel left out.
She still wasn’t sure where she stood with his friends or his ex, Miss Piggy. Denise was positive that Kermit cared for her, maybe not as much as she cared for him, but he never really seemed to want to spend time with both her and his friends together. Their office atmosphere was fine and for a while, she thought maybe he was having a hard time connecting with them outside of work; but that couldn’t be true. He had worked with these people before, decades if she added up correctly, in both television and movies and he certainly seemed to get along with everyone, sharing in these secrets that only those who had known you for a long time would know.
She knew it was hard for an outsider to break into close knit group of people, but even she would admit that breaking into the inner core of the Muppets was like breaking into Ft. Knox; she already had strikes against her – Miss Piggy hated her, that much was true and she had a terrible time remembering everyone’s names. Some could dismiss it as just having a lot of people on set, but Denise was just terrible at remembering names and always had been. She still kept thinking Kermit’s red head friend, the one that did the talent booking, was named Scott, but she instinctively knew that wasn’t it. It started with an S and had a T in there somewhere.
And the worse part was, that wasn’t even his name! It was a nickname and she’d be hard press to remember his first name as well. It was like, some rap guy name, she thought.
Closing her eyes, she opened them when she heard her frog’s familiar knock on the door. Taking a deep, she steeled herself and went to answer, mentally hoping that everything wouldn’t be a complete disaster.
[hr]
It was a complete disaster.
She wasn’t in tears, thankfully, though she was now convinced if she was ever left alone with Miss Piggy again, the diva would certainly kill her. And Kermit had explained really hard that she and the red head had been apparently joking when they insinuated that Piggy wouldn’t necessarily poison her at some point, but that maybe she could dismember her.
Her frog had been enraged, to the point where he had dragged both of them into a back room and let them have it, then had made them apologize, though it was very clear neither wanted to and she was quite sure Piggy didn’t really mean it.
That had been just one of the more uncomfortable moments at that party – while she didn’t disparage Kermit’s mingling, she did seem to be the quiet one in some of their conversations. There were times, many times to be honest, when she wondered how exactly Kermit became friends with half of the people in that house. How exactly does one become close friends with a former daredevil and ‘performance artist’ like Gonzo? Just hearing some of the things he did – the thing actually ate a tire once! – and then there was the comic bear, who wasn’t the slightest bit funny or even the mad scientist and his pin cushion assistant.
But no one astounded her more than Piggy. Talk about oil and water, Denise was still confused over not only how they managed to date each other, but how they continued to date each other for years. They had nothing in common – Piggy was a former low circuit beauty queen from the mid-west and Kermit was a nice Southern boy from Mississippi; she was high maintenance, he wasn’t. That was probably why Denise and Kermit did much better together; he had told her such, that she was a breath of fresh air in comparison to Piggy. But it still didn’t stop the jealous twinge whenever the two of them looked at each other and it was clear, some unspoken message was happening.
Actually, it seemed everyone had that with Kermit.
Everyone but her.
[hr]
For a Friday night at Gonzo’s, the party seemed to slow down pretty fast. Maybe it was because they had spent most of the week working on the show and the weekend was the first moments of actual, delicious sleep they could look forward to, but Gonzo’s house party was down to six people, including Gonzo, by 9:30. And the only reason they were still there was because Kermit had started helping their host get his new house back into the shape it was before nearly fifty people had come over to it. That lent to the others just falling in line, with picking up cups, bottles, plates, and other things.
Gonzo had even tried to politely stop her from helping, stating that she was the guest; as much as it was a nice offer, it actually did the opposite of what she was sure the weirdo thought. She was actually offended by it; she was the guest, but so were the others, so why did they get to help clean up? It only reinforced the feelings of inadequacy she already felt. Planting a sweet smile on her face, she told Gonzo it was no trouble at all and made her way towards the sink, where Kermit and Piggy were arguing over who would wash and who would dry.
Just before she took her steps to stand by Kermit’s side, the comic – Frank? Freddie? – rushed over, laying out a series of jokes that just caused the others to groan. The red head – ugh, it totally wasn’t Scott. Steve, maybe? – must have seen that she had nothing to do, so he enlisted her help in putting the food away.
“Hey Gonzo.”
“Hey Piggy.”
The diva had taken to sitting on the counter next to the sink – the one that Kermit happened to be washing dishes in – and was holding up one of the drinking glasses. “Are these the same glasses you got when we went up to Denver?” she asked.
“Brava,” the weirdo said, chuckling. “They are indeed. I even managed to order another set after Fozzie broke three of them.”
“That wasn’t me,” the bear protested. “It was Beaker. In fact, both Bunsen and Beaker are responsible for that. I was trying to save your glasses. Hey Denise, wanna see something cool?”
And suddenly, there was Fozzie right in front of the pig, flexing, and pointing to a faded scar under his fur. “This is the sacrifice I made for those broken glasses,” he said. “There was a lot of blood.”
“Really?” she asked, curiously. She didn’t have a lot of medical training, but she used to watch a lot of investigative cop shows and she was at least aware that if hit right, a small cut could lead into bigger problems.
“Not really,” Scooter whispered next to her. Looking at Fozzie, he said, “Not that he remembers much because he fainted.”
“From blood loss,” Fozzie added.
“No,” Piggy corrected. “It’s because you hate the sight of blood.”
“Hey, Major Pain,” Kermit called. “How ‘bout coming back over here and helping me with these dishes so her royal highness has something to do.”
“I am doing something!”
“What, exactly?” Kermit countered.
Piggy looked at him as though he was crazy. “Um, hello,” she stated. “Moi is letting you bask in her presence, soak up the aura that Moi has left you in this kitchen.”
Was she serious? Just where did this pig get off? But as with everything else, no one seemed to think the pig was being pretentious or at least Denise thought. Hand on his heart, Gonzo proclaimed, “Oh well, praise be! I am sure all of us are truly blessed to be in the glorious presence that is you. Oh woe are the hethens and villains who dare not heed the all empowering glory of our resident diva.”
“Testify,” Kermit said, turning from the sink to watch the…spectacle.
“Kermit,” Frankie – maybe? - admonished, though he didn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him. “Don’t encourage this.”
Gary – no, that wasn’t. Ugh, what was his name again? – had just gotten started, throwing his arms out and saying, “I come to you, friends, Romans, countrymen, and Muppet galore to preach to you tonight about the glory and everlasting tribute that we have for Miss Piggy. Can I get a witness?”
Scott or Steve piped up or rather sang out, “Witness!”
Denise was sure the diva was about to beat them all up, despite the fact that it was Gerry that started the whole mess. So imagine her surprise when the only punishment the head writer got was a snap of the dish dry towel that Piggy still held in her hands and even that was easily caught by the blue fuzzy hand, leading to a small tug of war between the two. In fact, both of them had smiles – or rather a smirk in Piggy’s case – on their faces.
“Your talents are clearly wasted in entertainment,” the diva said, pulling on the towel between them. “If you pull me off this counter…”
The head writer relented, giving the diva a pat on her thigh, which she answered with a slap, though light, to the back of his head. “Piggy, my sweet, pull me six Mai Tai glasses if would.”
“What do you need six Mai Tai glasses for?” she asked, opening the cabinet next to her and pulling out the glasses as requested.
“Cause I’m gonna make six Mai Tais,” came the answer, as Garrett – ugh, no that wasn’t it – grabbed the glasses and brought them over to his table before grabbing all the ingredients to make said Mai Tais.
Denise hadn’t been sure what type of party this would be, so she had opted to be the designated driver, especially after Fru – forget it. He was just going to be Comic Guy for the rest of the night – told her Head Writer G always threw the best, if not the wildest, parties. That didn’t sound all that safe and knowing that HWG also hung out with the Rat and the Four Armed Shrimp there was no guarantee she wasn’t going to be dragging a poor, drunk frog and/or bear home with her.
She wasn’t a huge drinker anyway and she didn’t remember seeing her boyfriend have anything – she thought – but he seemed sobered.
Obviously her boyfriend had the same thought because as he finished up the rest of the dishes, he looked at his friend and said, “Uh, Gonzo, you are aware that some of us need to drive home.”
“Uh Kermit,” Gonzo shot back. “You are aware that I own a three bedroom house now. You know I’m not letting any of you leave if I think you aren’t perfectly safe to drive home.”
Well, that was surprising.
“Why?” he asked. “You got plans tomorrow?”
“No.”
That was a bit hurtful, though she admitted that they hadn’t exactly made plans for that weekend past this party, but it would’ve been nice if Kermit had mentioned that perhaps she wanted to spend time with him. Almost as though he read her mind, Kermit immediately turned to her, and his eyes went wide. “Or maybe!” he corrected. “I don’t know. Probably?”
Head Writer Guy raised an eyebrow and said, “I don’t think that’s entirely true, so you get a Mai Tai.”
“And make sure those are Mai Tais,” Steve said, pointing at the glasses.
“Are you still mad about that little drink mix up at your birthday?”
“How you mix up a Long Island with a Mai Tai I don’t know.”
“This is why you have a bar buddy, Gonzo,” Comic Guy replied.
“Well, Floyd’s not here right now,” HWG said. “And this time, I’m perfectly sober. Besides, this is your hard earned reward for staying and helping me clean up.”
“Or you’re trying to get rid of your Curacao,” Steve smirked.
“Mostly that, actually.”
The group headed into the living room, with Gonzo following them with a platter full of Mai Tais, which he started passing out once everyone was settled. “I’ve never had a Mai Tai before,” Denise admitted, taking the end seat of the couch. She was pleased when Kermit took the area to her right, but she held in an exaspirated sigh when Piggy took his other side.
“Well then, you’ll love mine.”
“Don’t drink all of it,” Kermit whispered to her. “One of us has to drive home.”
“Hello!” HWG did a spin motion with his finger. “Whole lotta room, extra space, and all that.”
“You just love throwing that extra space in there, don’t you?” Piggy asked.
“You’ve been to my former apartment,” he groused. “In fact, I believe you once told me that I would have more room in a sardine can, especially given the company I kept.”
“That does sound like something Moi would say.”
“I’d be more shocked if you hadn’t said it,” Kermit replied, sarcastically.
“Hey,” Steve interrupted. “It’s still early, it’s like ten till. You guys wanna do something? Unless this is far too late for any of you to be up.”
Piggy shoved him playfully. “Watch it, junior.”
“It’s well past your bedtime,” Comic Guy retorted. “Us adults can stay up until at least ten.”
“Yeah, you tell ‘em, Foz,” Gonzo said, rolling his eyes. “Alright - ” Pointing to both Comic Guy and Steve, he continued with, “The kids need to be entertained before they can go to sleep. So what’ll it be?”
“Oh!” Comic Guy exclaimed, bouncing up and down from his perch on the floor. “Oh I know! I know!”
“Yes,” Steve replied, nodding to him. “You with the hat.”
“You know what we haven’t played in a while?” he asked. “True confessions!”
Denise wasn’t sure what true confessions was, but from the way Kermit was shaking his head, while the others seemed to be on board with it meant it couldn’t be something good. “We can’t do that,” her boyfriend was saying. “Because Denise is here.”
“That makes it perfect then,” Head Writer Guy said. “Especially if she’s planning on hanging out with us more, being your girlfriend and all.”
The marketing manager would be lying if she hadn’t been touched that Head Writer Guy would not only include her, but also allude to the fact that he was welcoming her to continue joining them during their outings. She was only worried for a second when she saw the look that HWG was throwing either Kermit or Piggy, as though he was daring either of them to correct him on his assumptions.
“Alright,” she said. “I’m intrigued. What exactly is true confessions?”
“Gonzo,” Kermit asked. “Would you like the honors?”
“Your girlfriend, Frog.”
“Fine.” Turning to her, Kermit started, “Long story short, we came up with this game as a…getting to know you, icebreaker when we first started doing the Muppet Show. We’ve changed it, but the rules are simple – you get two envelopes and those envelopes you put something that is true about you and something that isn’t. When it’s your turn, we have to figure out if what you told us was the truth or not. Now listen, you don’t have to tell us anything that’s highly embarrassing or extremely personal…”
“Though it’s a lot more fun if you did,” HGW grinned.
“And anything that you say does not leave this room.” That was to everyone else, who instantly groaned at the warning.
“Is this the part where we pinky swear and we all take a blood oath?” Piggy asked.
“Okay, that’s it, we’re not playing.”
“Oh c’mon!”
“Kermit!”
“Relax.”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Denise said, rubbing a thin green arm. “I’m game. How do we start?”
Comic Guy excitedly began to tell her about some of the changes they had made since the last few times they had played, such as making the truth and lies a much longer list that would keep the game going, especially when there was only a small group playing. She was trying to pay attention, but the whispered conversation next to her continued to catch her attention.
Denise had of course heard about Kermit and Piggy’s legendary arguments – which was one reason she wondered how on earth they managed to stay together for so long – and even when they weren’t dating, it seemed that they could still snipe at each other over the littelest things.
“Let’s see how well you know your girlfriend,” Piggy joked.
“More than you know about me, I bet,” her boy hissed back.
“We’ll test that in a minute.”
The group took about ten minutes, each coming up with ten different truths and lies before stuffing both of their lists in their appropriate envelopes. “Seeing as Denise is our guest,” HWG replied. “We’ll let her go first. Denise, if you would hold up your envelopes; Kermit, pick your poison.”
“Not funny, Gonzo.” Kermit spent a second looking between the envelopes before tapping on the first one. “Number one, cause you’re number one in my heart.”
“Lame,” Piggy whispered to him.
“Not talking to you.”
Taking a deep breath, Denise looked at her list of five and choose her first statement. “I set my school on fire.”
Everyone looked at her, then each other, then back to her. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it unnerved her all the same. HWG hit their timer before asking, “You set your school on fire?”
“Not on purpose!” she cried. “A complete accident, but yeah. I…kinda did.”
“Which school?” Steve asked.
“Monroe elementary.”
“And you were how old?” Piggy asked.
“Seven or eight, I think.”
“How did you do it?” asked Comic Guy.
“Science project gone wrong,” Denise shrugged. “I was doing something with electricity and batteries and I think I plugged in something that was on its way out because the next thing I knew…whoosh went the wall.”
They asked a few more before the buzzer rang. This was the point where they would decide if her story was true or not – ironically, both Piggy and Steve believed her, though she wasn’t sure if it was because they figured a seven year old would accidently set a school on fire or if they thought they were catching her in some pre-pubescent arson attempt, but in the end, those two had been right – she had accidently got the school’s gym on fire – and the game continued.
She had to ask about the fairness of them playing – certainly after knowing each for so long, they couldn’t have that many secrets between them anymore.
“Well that’s the beauty of it,” HWG said, winking at her. “Every time we play, we have to come up with something new that the others don’t know. That’s the point where we get to personal and embarrassing.”
“As you can imagine,” Comic Guy said. “Our lists are getting kinda small.”
Kermit was next, with a wild story on how he had once ran the family washing machine so long, it ended up flooding the house. Denise was the only one who believed him, which was unfortunate because she was wrong; Piggy had even challenged him on it.
“Totally not true.”
“You’re so sure of that?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Because you would have told me. And if not you, your mom for sure. Or Jimmy to get back at you for some of the pranks you pulled.”
“You?” Denise asked, shocked. “The prankster?”
“He is the oldest,” Piggy said, as though it not only explained everything, but it was something Denise should have known.
Piggy’s story was equally unbelievable, in that she had once been the manager of a nudist park while in France, which everyone was clearly on the side that it was a complete lie, although Head Writer Guy sided with her – “Not that I believe you, cause I don’t, but I just really wish it was true. And you owe for the last time you deceived us in such a way.”
“It is not Moi’s fault if your perverted minds wanted to believe something that wasn’t true,” the diva giggled. “Oh Denise, you should’ve seen the look on their perverted faces. I had fun with that for months.”
Scooter – whose name she would probably never, ever remember – went next and surprised everyone when his statement was, “I was arrested for attempted murder.” It was a harmless fight that was caused by a bully, who then tried to press charges against the booking manager. Head Writer Guy went next, stating something that everyone totally believed, only for him to state that it was completely untrue.
The last person was Comic Guy and if Bicycle’s – his name had something to do with a vehicle of some sort – true confession had everyone floored, it was nothing compared to Comic Guy’s. “I was once married for 24 hours.”
“No, you weren’t.” HWG was adamant on that.
“There’s no way,” Kermit said.
“I have yet to hear a question.”
“How is that even possible?”
“Is that your question?”
“Gonzo, start the clock. How is that even possible?”
“Well, you see, Kermit,” Comic Guy began. “When a bear loves a woman, he goes out and buys a ring…”
“Shut up,” Piggy insisted. “What was her name?”
“Stella Jorgenson.”
“Where’d you meet her?” Motorbike asked.
“You guys remember that deli that was down the street from the theater?”
“What?” Kermit asked, surprised. “No. No, no. When was this?”
“Um…” Comic Guy thought. “Around ’79, I think.”
That unleashed a whole new round of disbelief. “Shenanigans,” Head Writer Guy said. “I’m calling shenanigans on this right now because there is no way you got married and none of us knew about it.”
“It was only for a day,” Comic Guy lamely explained.
A chorus of nos were sounded. “You’re totally lying,” HWG stated. Everyone but Piggy were right behind him. “Are you kidding?”
“The story is horrible,” the diva admitted. “Because he’s a horrible storyteller, but it’s Fozzie. He’s a hopeless romantic. No way would he lie about getting married.”
“Well?” Kermit asked, more like demanded from where she was sitting.
Comic Guy shrugged. “It’s true.”
“Absolutely not,” HWG stated. Turning to Motorbike, he said, “Scooter, you look that up.”
“How is Scooter gonna find it?”
Scooter – she knew it was a vehicle! – looked at Comic Guy like he was insane. “First,” he said. “It’s the Internet. If it exists, it’s online. Second, I’m Andy Westside. I can find anything on the Internet.”
“That must’ve gotten you in trouble at some point,” Denise smirked.
Scooter leaned past Piggy to look at it. “Told you, it’s me. If I can find it, I can most certainly make it disappear.”
“Can you make my marriage license disappear?” Comic Guy asked, timidly.
“Yeah,” Scooter agreed. “When I find it and we all look at it for authenticity and to prove you aren’t pulling the biggest practical joke ever.”
It took the talent manager about fifteen minutes, but his soft swear announced that he had run into something. “I don’t believe it,” he whispered, looking at the tablet screen. “Here it is. Fozwaldo McMillian Bear…”
“Fozwaldo?” Piggy griped, looking over Scooter’s shoulder. “Ugh! That is a horrible name! I am terribly sorry for you.”
“Really, Pigathia?” Fozwaldo shot back. “That’s a horrible name?”
“Uh yeah!” she said. “Your name trumps mine by like a thousand and one thousands.”
“Why would your poor mother name you that?” HWG asked.
“It’s a family name!”
“Oh god, that’s a family name?” Piggy exclaimed.
“I was named after my uncle.”
“What’re your aunts’ names?” asked HWG.
“Okay, here’s a question,” Piggy began.
“About my marriage?”
“No, but we’re gonna circle back on that,” the diva said. “No, what Moi wants to know is – how did you end up being called Fozzie and not say, Waldo?”
“Are you kidding?” Fozzie puttered. “Waldo’s a horrible name!”
“Okay seriously though,” Vehicle Kid responded. “Neither one of you should be pointing and name shaming. Okay, Pigathia? Fozwaldo?”
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