Sesame Street Fan-Fic: Street Smarts

[ISNorden]

Oh...my...gods. Last time I cried this hard over a Sesame Street story, Big Bird was passing out drawings to his friends and wondering why Mr. Looper, ummm, Hooper couldn't get his.

 

[redBoobergurl]

*Tears* That was so sad, but beautifully written Ryan. I have to know what happens next, please don't leave it this way!

 

[theprawncracker]

Guys, guys, it is NOT over, don't worry gang, happy ending's coming... later.

 

[The Count]

Yeah... But that's no excuse to not nag you and get more story posted! So, more story please?

 

[theprawncracker]

The Ten Chapters of Smarts

Gordon locked the door to the apartment.

Susan let tears slip down her cheeks.

Cookie Monster wanted to devour the cookie in his hand.

His stomach wouldn’t let him.

Cookie Monster laid the cookie down on the doorstep.

Cookie Monster, Susan, and Gordon drove the Volkswagen away.

-~-~-~-~-

Luis locked the Fix-It Shop.

Maria cradled a toaster in her arms, the tears falling from her face.

Luis wrapped his arms around Maria’s shoulder.

Maria and Luis walked away.

-~-~-~-~-

The basketball shot through the rickety old hoop.

Gabi picked up the ball, and handed it to Miles.

Miles took the ball, and looked at Gabi.

Gabi looked back at Miles.

They both looked at Sesame Street.

They both cried.

-~-~-~-~-

The yellow Volkswagen pulled away.

The flat-bed truck followed.

A bus came and took Gabi and Miles.

Big Bird stood with a little blonde girl at his side, grasping his hand. Big Bird cradled Radar in his other hand, his suitcase lying at his feet.

"They’re gone," Big Bird said, choking back tears.

The little girl nodded slowly. "We’re going to be gone soon too."

Big Bird sniffed back his tears. "I don’t want to go."

"Neither do I," the little girl said, holding Big Bird’s hand forever if she had to.
"Wanna take a walk, Big Bird?" she asked.

Big Bird nodded and laid Radar down next to his suitcase. The two of them walked away from 123 Sesame Street. They walked slowly, hand in hand, down the sidewalk.

They walked past the alley where picnic tables and a basketball court were set up. "I- that’s a fun spot," Big Bird said softly. The little girl nodded.

They walked past Gina’s veterinarian office. "That’s where Gina works- worked, and took care of sick animals." Big Bird pointed out.

"She helped my parakeet one time," the little girl whispered.

They came to Hooper’s Store, and Big Bird had to stop. He watched a plastic bag that was stuck under a fruit stand blow in the evening wind. "I’ve never seen Hooper’s without any fruit or vegetables out front," the little girl said.

Big Bird sighed. "Neither have I." Big Bird looked down at his feet at the dust pavement. "And I’ve never seen the front of the store unswept."

The two of them stood there, silently, looking down at their feet.

"Big Bird?" the girl asked.

"Yes, Caroll?"

"My feet aren’t going anywhere," she said.

Big Bird’s grin returned to his face. "Neither are mine."

The little girl giggled and Big Bird laughed. "C’mon Caroll, let’s keep going."

They did, passing the Fix-It Shop (You know, it was the Mail-It Shop for a second"), the park, Charlie’s Restaurant ("It’s a wonder they stayed open, with Grover working there and all"), The Furry Arms Hotel, Birdland, and the rest of Sesame Street.

The two of them made their way back to 123 Sesame Street, stopping next to the familiar light post. The street lamp had yet to light, but it was about that time.

Big Bird and Caroll held hands for awhile, just standing quietly, Big Bird’s free hand caressing the lamp post. "You know, of all the things in the world," Big Bird said. "There’s none that can beat Sesame Street."

Oscar the Grouch loudly shot out of his can. "Ding-dong, you’re wrong," Oscar shouted. "I know someplace that beats this crummy place any day!"

Big Bird and Caroll looked at each other, as if asking if that was even possible. "Oh yeah," Big Bird said. "Where, Oscar?"

"New Jersey," Oscar said.

"New Jersey?" Big Bird and Caroll asked.

"Did I stutter, ya big turkey?" Oscar asked.

"How could New Jersey be better than Sesame Street, Oscar?" Big Bird asked.

"Easy," Oscar said. "New Jersey doesn’t have you!" Oscar shouted.

Big Bird looked down at his feet, not hurt by Oscar’s comment, he knew he didn’t mean it. "Yeah," Big Bird said softly. "And after today, neither will Sesame Street."

"Yeah, well... pretty soon, there won’t even be a Sesame Street!" Oscar said, hurting himself with his comment.

Big Bird sniffed, Caroll patted his side. "Don’t cry, Big Bird, it’ll be okay."

"I know, Caroll, I know," Big Bird smiled. "And shouldn’t you be getting back home?" he asked.

Caroll nodded, gave Big Bird a hug, then ran off towards her home.

"There’s something else I won’t miss about this place, cute kids," Oscar said.
Big Bird sighed and sat down on the steps in front of 123 Sesame Street. "You know Oscar, of all the places here on Sesame Street, I think this is my favorite."

"Eh, what’s so great about some crummy old stoop, anyway?" Oscar grumbled.

"It’s not the stoop," Big Bird said. "It’s the steps."

"The steps?" Oscar asked.

Big Bird nodded. "They’ve seen so much through the years."

"They’re steps, feather face!" Oscar shouted. "They can’t see."

"Sure they can, Oscar," Big Bird said. "And if they could talk, wow, just imagine the stories they could tell."

"Stories? Like what?" Oscar asked.

"If these steps could talk
I wonder what they’d say
Perhaps- ‘please sit and rest awhile
Before you go away.’

"They’d say, ‘I’m glad to see you
Please stay and sing a song
Or read a book, or tell a joke
And I will laugh along.’

"If these steps could talk
They’d say ‘I’m always here
And though you may not notice me
You’ll know that I am near

"‘And when you sit upon me
I’m happy as can be’
That’s what I think
These steps would say if they could talk to me," Big Bird sang to Oscar.

Oscar, who nodded a rare, gentle nod, said, "Yeah, I think I see what you’re gettin’ at there." He looked down at the steps, then up at Big Bird and began to sing. "If these steps could talk
I think that they would say
‘I’ve always been right here for you
Each step of the way.’

"They’d say ‘I’ve seen so many things
As seasons come and go
I’ve seen neighbors become friends
And I’ve watched the children grow.’

"If these steps could talk
They’d say ‘throughout the years
I’ve seen you laugh and share and smile
I’ve even seen some tears

"‘I am just so grateful
For all the things I see’
That’s what I think these steps would say
If they could talk to me," Oscar sang, surprisingly heartfelt.

"‘And the people on the Street
Are like my family’
That’s what I think these steps would say
If they could talk to me," Oscar and Big Bird sang together.

Oscar looked down. "Well- ya know, turkey lips, you’re right, these steps are pretty special."

Big Bird nodded. "So many memories here."

Oscar nodded as well. "I’d like to start up a conversation with these steps here, if I could."

"Me too, Oscar," Big Bird said. "Me too."

Oscar realized the moment was getting to sentimental for his liking, and shook it off. "Uh, hey there feather face, don’t you have a bus to catch? You know, to get to your granny’s?" Oscar asked.

Big Bird sighed. "Yeah, thanks for looking out for me Oscar." Big Bird stood up from the steps.

"Yeah, well, don’t get used to it," Oscar said.

Big Bird picked up his suitcase and Radar, he then turned around and smiled that huge, unbreakable smile at Oscar the Grouch. "Don’t worry," Big Bird said. "I already am."

As Big Bird walked away, the street light flickered on.

 

[TogetherAgain]

The STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPS!

I'm... I'm gonna go cuddle my teddies for a while.

This is so awesome, Prawnie... Love that Maria was holding a toaster, and Cookie with the cookie... some things just... I LOVE the street light... and if these steps could talk...

MORE PLEASE!

 

[Katzi428]

snif....snif....
Prawnie...you're killing me here!! This story better start getting happier soon!

 

[redBoobergurl]

Ryan you tearjerker you. Big Bird and Oscar singing together! And being the last ones on Sesame Street! And how I loved that the little girl's name was Caroll! This story is so heartwrenching but it is so wonderful! Ok, I've got more tissues, bring on some more!

 

[The Count]

Loved it, everybody else already said what I wanted... Mooooooore pleeeeeeeease!

 

[theprawncracker]

It’s a Lovely Eleven Chapter!

The self-proclaimed cute, furry blue feet splashed in the shallow puddles as they darted through the alley.

Grover panted as his feet carried his soaking body through the downpour. The rain running down his body as his body ran down the narrow alleyway.

Grover looked behind him quickly, the shadow following him around every corner. He picked up speed in the dark night inside the dimly lit alley.

He prepared to round a corner at full speed, but slipped and collided into a bunch of trash cans. Grover quickly shot back up and continued sprinting away from the shadow behind him.

Fear ran through Grover’s body like never before, fear of what was behind him, fear of what lay ahead of him in the unfamiliar alley, fear of what would happen if what was behind him caught him at what was in front of him.

Why, oh why did I let the taxi driver drop me off here, of all places, Grover thought to himself.

This, obviously, was not where he was supposed to be.

Sesame Street was where he was supposed to be. Sesame Street was where everyone was supposed to be. And they were not there.

Which is why things like this were happening to Grover, and why things like this, or so Grover thought, would happen to everyone else.

Grover continued running down the seemingly endless chain of alleys. There were no exits to the main streets, and no entrances into buildings, or if there were any, Grover’s eyes weren’t seeing them.

The shadow continued to chase Grover, and Grover continued to grow more and more exhausted after every step.

Silently, Grover wondered if the shadow was becoming as tired as he was.

A fence.

Grover slid to a stop on the wet surface.

There was a fence blocking the path.

Grover quickly turned around, watching for the shadow. It rounded the previous corner, and Grover watched as it began to slowly walk towards him.

Either the rain was pounding extremely hard around Grover’s head, or his heart beat was up to his ears. It grew faster as the shadow grew closer.

Grover slid down to the soaking surface, leaning against the fence. The shadow came closer. Closer.

Grover pulled his knees up to his chest, his pink nose resting between his two knees. The shadow was no more than a few steps away.

Grover shut his eyes tightly. "I want my mommy!" he shouted in the moment of peril.

The rain stopped.

Grover felt something on his side, and something wet on his cheek, but it wasn’t rain.

Grover opened his eyes, and looked down at his side. A tiny puppy stood on his back feet with his front paws on Grover’s side, licking the monster’s face.

"Oh, hello there," Grover said to the puppy. "You scared old Grover!"

Grover picked up the puppy and held it in front of him. The puppy had a cute little black nose, with two cute little black eyes, a brown head with a white snout, two cute little black ears, a black torso, four teeny little brown legs with four teeny little white feet attached, and a cute, furry black tail.

"What is your name?" Grover asked the puppy. "My name is Grover."

The puppy seemed to smile at Grover, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his tail wagging rapidly.

"Hmm," Grover said. "You do not have a collar, do you? So, you do not have an owner? Or a home?"

The puppy whimpered slightly, then returned to its perky disposition.

Grover smiled. "Aw, you are so cute. Like me, I am so cute too. You know, we would make a good team, you and I. I am cute, you are cute, and neither of us have-" Grover stopped himself.

The puzzled puppy looked at Grover. Grover sighed. "I cannot keep anything from those cute, little eyes," Grover said. "Neither of us have homes either, little puppy."

The puppy began to bounce wildly. He lunged forward and began to lick Grover’s face all over. Grover rolled on the wet ground, laughing. "Oh, oh, stop it, please. I am so ticklish!"

The puppy retreated to Grover’s chest, standing, wagging his tail and panting.

Grover pushed himself up on his elbows. "You are certainly a spunky little fellow," he said. The puppy barked back in response. "Well, little puppy, would you like to come with furry, old Grover, and be his friend?"

The puppy nodded and barked again. Grover grinned. "Oh, good. Just what I love to hear," Grover said. "Now, um, what should your name be... oh!" Grover shouted. "I know, I will call you Scruffy!" Grover said, picking up the puppy and standing up. "My Scruffy puppy and me." Grover giggled. "What a cute pair we make."

The monster and the puppy walked out of the alley through an exit to the main streets, right next to the fence.

-~-~-~-~-~-

Hoots fluttered down in front of Birdland. He sighed, his sax hanging down over his neck, and shook his head. "Man, it just ain’t right. What is a hip, happenin’ bird like me, supposed to do on these cool nights? Without my Birdland, I’m nothin’!"

The owl sighed one last time, looked up at the nightclub, and flew off into the night sky.

The stars above Hoots twinkled in the night. "Well, at least I still got the stars lookin’ out for me." He looked down at the street below him, all the lights off. "Man, this place used to look great after dark, all the street lights on, makin’ it look real cool. But now..."

Hoots looked ahead of him, trying not to think of all his friends that had left. But still, he found himself looking down at the once-happiest street in the world below him.

His concentration on the street quickly broke, as a bolt of lightning crashed down a few miles ahead of him. Hoots tilted his head. "That’s weird," he said. "The skies are clear. Where’d that lightning come from?"

Hoots decided to fly down to where the lightning crashed, he descended down and heard the incessant counting of one, one Transylvanian immigrant.

"Four thousand, five hundred, and sewenty eight stars! Four thousand, five hundred, and sewenty nine stars!" The Count counted, pointing up at each star. "Ah ah ah!" The thunder and lightning crashed around Hoots.

The hip Owl laughed, landing on the castle’s balcony. "Hey there my cool, countin’ cat," Hoots said to the Count. "What’s shakin’, baby?"

"My cat, Fatatita, every time I count," the Count said. "She has an awful fear of thunder and lightning."

Hoots laughed again. "Man, it’s so good to see a familiar face that stuck around here."

"Of course I stayed," the Count said. "I could not leave my castle, and someone has to vatch ower the street below us."

Hoots nodded. "Cool baby, that’s a good thing you’re doin’."

The Count nodded. "I have nothing better to do," he said. "Besides count, of course, vhich I can do vhile vatching the street."

Hoots chuckled. "That’s right man," he said. "These stars sure do make some great countin’, and some great songs."

The Count looked up at the stars, so did Hoots. "Vould you like to count them with me?"

Hoots shrugged. "Sure, why not. Maybe we could make a song out of it."
"Oh, quite," said the Count.

"Hey, I’ve got a question though, before we start countin’," Hoots said.
"Vhat vould that be?" the Count asked.

"What’re you doin’ up so late, man?" Hoots asked. "I’m an owl, what’s your excuse?"

"Ah, a wery walid question indeed," the Count said. "You see, I am also nocturnal, like yourself. I’m part bat you see."

"No foolin’?" Hoots asked.

"Yes, my great aunt Phanny was a bat," the Count said.

"Really? Cool, baby, real cool." Hoots picked up his sax and brought it near his lips. "Ready?"

"I’m alvays ready to count," the Count said.

Hoots grinned, and put his beak onto the sax and began to play. A soft, slow song, perfect for the atmosphere that the night brought about. The stars twinkling above, and the sax playing below.

"Four thousand, five hundred, eighty stars!" the Count counted along with the music. "Four thousand, five hundred, eighty one stars! Four thousand, five hundr-"

The Count stopped. He looked around slowly. Hoots opened his eyes, and stopped playing. "What’s the beef chief?" he asked.

"Shh," the Count put his finger to his lips. "I think I hear- yes!" the Count declared. "Look, down there!" The Count leaned over the ledge of the castle and pointed down towards Sesame Street.

Hoots peered down as well, squinting to see. "Man, owls have some of the best night vision in the world, and I still can’t see anything."

"Listen, can’t you hear it?" the Count asked, his voice deep and urgent, as if in a time of crisis. "Motors."

"Motors?" Hoots asked. "Like machine motors?"

"Exactly," the Count said, pointing down again.

Hoots looked again, this time seeing a red light spinning atop something. He looked closer, and could see the outline of a bulldozer parked in front of 123 Sesame Street.

"A bulldozer!" Hoots shouted. "How did he- why did- what’re we gonna do man?"

The Count shook his head. "Nothing needs to be done tonight. They vill not vork until afternoon at least." The Count turned to go into his castle. "Tonight ve sleep, so tomorrow ve can stop that bulldozer."

"Sleep?!" Hoots shouted. "At a time like this?!"

"Trust me," the Count said. "Ve’ll need our rest if ve’re to stop that bulldozer."

Hoots sighed. "You’re right, man. Mind if I bunk here for the night?" Hoots asked.

The Count nodded. "Come on in. I’ll get one, one cot for you to sleep on. Ah ah ah!"

This time, Hoots didn’t flinch at the thunder and lightning. He just turned, and looked back at Sesame Street. "Hang on, Sesame Street, we’re here to keep you safe," Hoots said, then flew into the castle.