Sam the (American) Eagle sat upright on the couch in the living room of the Muppet Boarding House. With his blue, feathery wing he grabbed for a handkerchief at his side and dabbed his baggy eyes with it.
“Truly moving,” Sam said with a sigh. “It is a pleasure to see that someone can uphold the values and decency that is America.”
“Si, jou keep telling jourself d’at baldy,” said the four-armed, red-haired Pepe the King Prawn from his spot on the couch next to Sam. “It’s just Oprah, hokay.”
“Yeah,” Rizzo the Rat said in between smacks of peanut butter in his mouth. The yellow hat, white t-shirt wearing vermin was scooping out what peanut butter was left inside a jar with his bare hands. “It’s not like she’s runnin’ for president or anyt’ing,” Rizzo said.
Sam gasped, his beak staying open as he turned his gaze quickly to Rizzo. “That is a brilliant idea!” he said fervently. “I must call my local congressman and let him know that the next president of these fine United States is located on our television set everyday!”
“Ya may wanna be more specific than that,” Rizzo said.
“Si, or else jou may end up electing Ryan Seacrest, hokay,” Pepe added with a shudder.
Sam glared down at the rat and the shrimp. “I think I know how to speak to a congressman,” he said sternly.
Rizzo shrugged, licking his fingers. “If you say so, just don’t say we didn’t warn ya,” he said.
Sam ignored the rat’s comment, stood up, and strutted patriotically towards the hall telephone.
Pepe grabbed up the remote control quickly and began to flip through the channels. “Finally,” he said, “maybe ‘De View’ is on, hokay.”
“’Da View?’” Rizzo asked with a scoff. “Why would ya wanna watch that?”
“Haven’t jou heard?” Pepe asked, still flipping through channels. “Whoopi Goldberg es on it now, hokay, so it es bound to be very funny.”
“Sure,” Rizzo said, “but Whoopi ain’t da reason it’s funny.”
“Well d’en why, Ritzo?” Pepe asked.
“Have ya seen da way t’ose squawkin’ hens go at each ot’er’s t’roats?” Rizzo asked. “It’s better than wrestling!”
“Is there pudding?” Pepe asked.
Rizzo did a double take. “What?” he asked.
“De puddings,” Pepe said, “jou can’t have de lady wrestlings without de puddings, hokay!”
“I like da way you t’ink, my friend,” Rizzo said. “First yah watch the fight, and then cleaning up afterwards is just as fun!”
“Si, si,” Pepe said, “d’is es what I am saying.”
“Wait a second!” Rizzo shouted, pointing at the screen.
“What?” Pepe asked. “Jou would rather have de jellos instead of de puddings?”
“No, no, no,” Rizzo said. “Look, d’ere, on the T.V., it’s Link!”
“Who?” Pepe asked, turning his attention back to the T.V. “Oh, it’s just de pig.”
On the screen Link Hogthrob sat with his legs crossed in an armchair across from the host of a popular television talk show, Max. Link was wearing a green sports jacket and jeans and was laughing happily along with Max.
Max stroked a funny bit of facial hair on his chin as he calmed down his laughing fit. “Oh that’s priceless, Link,” he said.
“Yes, yes,” Link said, pushing back his golden-blonde hair, “it’s really a very common mistake.”
“I can imagine,” replied Max. “Well anyway Link, tell us, you and Miss Piggy are officially over now, aren’t you?”
Link nodded. “Yes, of course,” Link said, “I do not condone affairs.”
“Well they’re not married yet,” Max said, nudging Link and winking.
“Oh, they’re not?” Link asked. “Good, I thought I’d missed the wedding.”
Max and his studio audience laughed, thinking Link was joking (which he wasn’t). He smiled stupidly, playing it cool.
“Well the rest of us can’t be to sure either,” Max said to the pig. “No one seems to know when the so-called ‘wedding of the century’—“
“So called by Miss Piggy,” Rizzo said, nudging Pepe.
“—will be,” Max said. “Can you shed any light on that for us?”
Link scratched his head. “If I knew, I’d tell you,” Link said. “I’m just as lost as you are.”
“Maybe he should try Hare Krishna, eh?” Rizzo asked, snickering.
“Sh!” Pepe scolded the rat. “I am trying to watch, hokay?”
“Well do keep us informed,” Max said.
“Oh I’ll have to,” Link said, “you won’t fit in my pocket.”
“Oh good grief,” Rizzo said. “Maybe d’at’s why we haven’t seen Fozzie around today; he’s d’ere writing jokes for Link.”
“Fotzie es in de kitchen, hokay,” Pepe said.
“Oh yeah,” Rizzo said.
“Link, it’s been a real pleasure,” Max said, extending his hand for Link to shake. “I hope you’ll come back and entertain us again sometime.”
‘Surely,” Link said, shaking Max’s hand, “I just love the publicity.”
“Really?” Max asked.
“Mm-hm,” Link said, “that’s why I dated Miss Piggy. Of course… that’s why she dated me too.”
“Oh boy…” Rizzo said.
“I t’ink a can of worms has just been opened up, hokay,” Pepe said.
“Or else it will be,” Rizzo said, pressing a button on the remote control, “once Piggy watches d’is on the TiVo.”
“Very true, hokay,” Pepe said. “Well what do we do now?” he asked as the credits for Max rolled on the television screen.
“I’m in da mood for pudding, suddenly,” Rizzo said.
“D’is es so weird,” Pepe said, “I am too, hokay!”
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