So We'll Go No More A-Roving, for Fear of Furry Monsters

newsmanfan

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Thanks all!

Yes, Gina has gray eyes; I know I mentioned that waaaaay back in "Love Reign O'er News," but perhaps I haven't been clear enough in my characters in a while, lazily assuming everyone recalls the details that *I* do...sheesh.

Jaws? No no no! That, dear sir, was my homage to the best scene in "Aliens"! (If I was gonna do Jaws, I might've had Carl look at his cooking lesson and muse, "We're gonna need a bigger pie...") Yeah yeah I know how the TV chefs do it. But then the studio and at-home audience would catch the switcheroo, wouldn't they?

This won't be done by tomorrow, regrettably...but certainly this week! I finally have a detailed outline for EVERYTHING that has to happen when worlds --er, Muppets and monsters -- collide, and worked on the text some today. More as I'm able.

*staggering off into the red sunset* Braaaaaiiinnnsss...
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The Count

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*Cursed cable connection prevented me from coming online last night. *Pencils in an appearance by Gina, trusting Kris will say if she wants it changed after writing and posting which also won't be today.
*Leaves some Halloween chocolates for the authoress.
 

newsmanfan

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(Auth. Note: this finale is so froggin' big I have decided to post it serial-style! here's the first chunk...)

Part Fifty-Three (I)

Even from across the cobweb-filled ballroom, Gonzo spotted her gorgeous feathers, her ruby wattles, her sapphire eyes, and with a howl of “Camillaaaaa!” charged toward her. Startled monsters jumped out of the Whatever’s way as he barreled straight to his chickie-love. Camilla perked up, and when he threw his arms around her neck, she clucked in relief and wonder and nuzzled his fuzzy nose with her beak. “Ohhh, Camilla, Camilla, can you ever forgive me?” Gonzo cried, filled with shame at how blind he’d been for so long. “I never meant to push you aside! Don’t you know, all these life-risking things I do, I do for you?”

The chicken scolded him gently; didn’t he realize he didn’t need to impress her? “Bawwwwk, bawk buh bawk,” she murmured, telling him she’d adored him even when he was a humble plumber and covered in septic back-up half the time. They kissed, and sighed, and their eyes closed in mutual affection and momentary bliss.

Gonzo’s smile faded as he realized something odd. “Uh...sweetie...when did you get so tall?”

On opening his eyes, he saw Camilla had not, in fact, grown a foot taller; she was suspended in some kind of thick, sticky webbing that far off the dusty floor. To her left, Scooter and Sara hung glumly, hopelessly entangled and not in a gushy-love-song kind of way; to Camilla’s right, Zoot dozed with his hat over his eyes, but the rest of the Mayhem alongside him were awake and unhappy about their cobwebbed status, which Dr Teeth had observed a short while ago was “even worse than being mothballed!” Gonzo’s eyes widened as his gaze swept over an entire wall and corner filled with muffled, tired Muppets swathed in gooey silk. “This isn’t good,” he muttered, slowly turning around to take in the rest of the ballroom.

A few of the monsters recognizable from the Muppet Theatre, such as Big Mama and Behemoth, stood in a spread-out group across the room as if waiting for the music to begin and the dancers to choose their partners, but Gonzo suspected this would be no lindy-hop. Many, many more monsters filled the space, none of them looking particularly sympathetic to the Muppets’ plight. On a raised dais where a century ago a full-tux band would have played, a stout figure wrapped in tattered strips of cloth like a mummy began to chuckle, low and menacingly. He spread his hands and pulled an old-fashioned bandleader’s microphone toward him; his deep, chill voice echoed through the room over the PA system. “How lovely of you to finally join us, Gonzo...just in time for the biggest stunt of your life. A pity it will also be the last.”

Rosie and Thatch McGurk halted just inside the doorway, realizing too late just how outnumbered this Charge of the Three-eyed Brigade was. The Underlord’s chuckle turned to a laugh, then a booming, maniacal roar of dark triumph. As one, every monster gathered in front of him took up the expression, and squeaky titters, snarling chortles, and huge bouncing belly laughs overwhelmed even the Underlord’s magnified mirth.

Gonzo gave Camilla an apologetic, halfhearted grin. “...Oops...”

Walter struggled Muppetfully but was only able to twist himself around far enough to see the Muppet next to him, which happened to be Kermit. “Uh, hey, Kermit,” the newest member of the troupe said, “I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining, really...but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to be included in everything you guys did from now on.”

“It isn’t my idea of a great show either,” the frog snapped. He tried to rock his whole body back and forth; the section of web he was snared in did have a little give to it, and with supreme effort he was able to swing himself close enough to Piggy to grab her hand. She clutched tightly, her big blue eyes moist at seeing her husband rendered so utterly helpless by a bug he normally would have simply put on buttered toast and grilled. Then again, those sorts of spiders generally weren’t as big. “Piggy, honey? You okay?”

“I’m fine, Kermie...though this dress never will be again,” she growled back. “Are vous all right?”

“I’ve had better nights,” he grumbled, irritation masking his deeper anxiety. Whatever this was, it didn’t seem to be a dress rehearsal. “Robin?”

A tiny voice came from somewhere above and behind him in the web. “I’m okay, Uncle Kermit...but...why are all the monsters looking at us like we’re...we’re...”

“Just hang on,” Kermit told him, cutting off the awful thought. “We’ll figure something out. Some of these guys work for us! Scooter! Can you think of any reason why Shakey, Boppity, or Beautiful Day would be involved in this?” he asked, seeing those individuals as well as several other Muppet Show irregulars standing in the crowd around the dance-hall dais.

His right-hand Muppet replied, “Well, uh...you did naysay that free-donut fund last month, boss...”

Kermit scrunched his face unhappily. “Because they would have eaten us out of theatre and home!”

Scooter gulped. “I think that may be the case here, Chief...”

Link Hogthrob snuffled quietly, tears soaking the webbing around his snout. “I d-don’t want to be a baconator!”

Julius Strangepork sighed, hanging upside-down a foot away. “Don’t vurry, Link. You’re too fat to be bacon!”

“Aw, thanks, Dr Strangepork, that really makes me feel...hey!” Link tried to check the fit of his girdle, but his arms were tied to his sides.

“You’ll probably be sausage inshtead,” the smaller pig moped.

The Swedish Chef protested loudly as a trio of Frackles played with his cleaver on the floor below him. “Heeyy...giffen dut book! Id un surrious tool en der keechun!” A pink-maned, vulturelike Frackle giggled as he mocked the Chef, scrunching his furry eyebrows low and waving the heavy knife over his head. The others laughed, hopping from foot to foot in their excitement; one of them came too close to the flailing cleaver, and suddenly a long beak went flying. The Frackles stared at that, then at one another, then cackled madly while the noseless one chased down his bouncing beak.

Miss Piggy thought of all the action-heroine roles she’d played, from her Evel Knievel motorcycle jump in “The Great Muppet Caper” all the way to her last butt-kicking, no-prisoner-taking character in “Fozzie’s Angels.” “Those girls get out of this kind of thing all the time,” she muttered under her breath. “How hard can it be?” With a grunt, she renewed her struggles in earnest, though the webbing seemed more like airline cable than any silk she’d ever had a slinky gown made from.

Kermit shook his head, holding tight to his wife’s gloved hand, sickened by the sight of her fighting so valiantly and remaining firmly ensnared anyway. “I guess the Newsman was right,” he said sadly. “I didn’t want to believe it...these guys have worked with us for years! Why would they do this?”

Scooter stared across the room at the shrouded figure stroking an enormous white-furred caterpillar. “I guess they’re all too afraid of him.” Every monster present was clearly deferring to the mysterious individual, slinking low when they moved near the edge of the dais and casting anxious, if curious, looks his way.

A snaggle-toothed, portly, green Frackle with dark hair stopped right below Scooter, making notes on a clipboard. “Twenty-four, twenty-five...uh...say...you are a Muppet, right?” he asked Sara.

She glared back, fists clenched with no way to even swing them. “You bet I am, buster!”

Realizing this might be a chance to spare at least one of their number from an unknown and probably awful fate, Scooter objected, “Sara, no!” He addressed the puzzled Frackle, “J G, this is my wife! She’s not one of the performers!”

J G blinked at them. “Uh...okay...so...is she a Muppet or not? I mean, technically, the term ‘Muppet’ sort of applies to anyone connected to the theatre, doesn’t it, whether they’re onstage or not, right? I mean, you don’t usually perform!”

“Well, I, er, sometimes –“

“’Cause I know there’s the more generic term ‘Whatnot,’ of course,” the chatty Frackle continued, ignoring Scooter’s interruption. “And I’ve heard of ‘Anything Muppets,’ ha ha, hey, that’s like the song, sort of, isn’t it? ‘But now anything Muppets!’” he sang. Scooter and Sara stared at him. “So, uh, I guess the question here ultimately is, is your wife a Muppet or not? I mean, pretty much the only other category around here is ‘monster,’ and even though she has kind of a cute nose, I don’t think that really warrants inclusion in the...snooorrrkkk...”

The Frackle’s head rocked back on his thick shoulders, and loud snoring came from his open mouth. Suddenly the slap of a sharp, thin tail across his bottom made him jump. “What is the count, you worthlessss cretin?” demanded a doglike reptilian creature.

J G wiped a bit of drool from his lip, embarrassed. “Oh! Uh, heh heh, hi there, your flunkiness! Uh, just wrapping it up here; so with the two Carl’s serving up as pie, and that crazy veterinarian guy, we have twenty-f—“

“No, you imbesssile!” Eustace snarled. “Van Neuter is only to be usssed assss backup in cassse ssssomeone isss misssing!” He cocked a wary eye up at a defiant Sara. “Who issss thiss? Ssshe doesssn’t look very Muppety to me.”

“She’s not,” Scooter yelled.

“Yes I am!” Sara yelled, unwilling to be separated from her beloved, no matter what the consequences here. She exchanged a frustrated look with Scooter.

J G tapped the doglizard hesitantly on the arm. “Uh, I think she’s a, um, a Whatnot. That still counts, right?”

“Yesssss...” Eustace muttered, still uncertain about the girl with the too-smooth felt. “Sssshe ssseemss a bit...tall...”

“Oh! Well, uh, some of them are; I mean heck, that Van Neutral guy is like head and shoulders over most of us, heh heh, well not figuratively of course, I mean, you know, you’re the boss’s right-hand monster and all so obviously he wouldn’t be above you, that’s sort of just a figure of...skkkkaaarrrrkkk...”

Disgusted with the narcoleptic Frackle, Eustace raised a taloned paw to knock some sense into the creature if such a thing was at all possible, but a sharp word from across the room stopped him cold. “Eustace. Report.”

The doglizard scrambled back to the master’s feet, wondering as he gazed upon the thick, well-wrapped limbs what the Underlord really looked like; if he had to appear before them so concealed even now, how truly terrible must his twisted countenance be? With a shiver, Eustace said, “We are almossst at quota, your hideoussssnesss! The daredevil fool makessss thirty, and if the reporter hasss been apprehended, he ssshall make...”

A commotion from the entrance drew everyone’s attention. There in the doorway stood a yellow-felted Muppet with a large straight nose, a deep scowl behind his impressive glasses, and a knapsack upraised in his arms; beside him, with her hand protectively on his shoulder, stood a tall young woman with dirt-spattered dark red hair and a fierce gleam in her eyes. Several monsters took a minute to even notice the knapsack, preoccupied with the amount of leg the frilly dress on the girl revealed. Eustace grinned. “Thirty-one, my liege!”

The Newsman saw he had their attention, and shouted, “All of you stop right there! In this bag, I have several sticks of nitroglycerin, and they’re not very stable!”

The monsters looked at one another. “Don’t be absurd,” rumbled the Underlord, flicking a hand at the reporter. “He’s bluffing. Take him.”

A few of the crowd moved toward Newsie, but he raised the bag higher. “I found the explosives in Gonzo’s cell! Ask him if I’m bluffing!”

All eyes turned to the unfettered but surrounded Great Gonzo. He blinked slowly. “Oh, um, yeah...I did, um, sort of appropriate some old blasting stuff I found in one of the tunnels...” Hundreds of worried eyes stared at him. Defensively, Gonzo added, “Well, it wasn’t like anyone else was gonna use it to completely demolish this hotel to the music of Edvard Grieg!”

“I will!” Newsie barked out, his voice rough, his legs trembling. “So all of you, cut those Muppets loose right now, or you’re all going to wind up as little pieces of fur!”

“He should know,” Rowlf reflected. “Happened to him more than once...”

Anxiously, the monsters shuffled from foot to foot, looking at one another, at the captured souls in the web, and at the Underlord. A sneer spread across that broad, bandaged face. “You fools! He wouldn’t blow up his precious friends! It’s a trick; grab him!”

Two of the Mutations and Timmy from the Green Lagoon lurched at the Newsman and Gina. Quickly Newsie thrust his hand into the knapsack and tossed something at the monsters; several of the others yelped and covered their faces. Beaker meeped in alarm and even Kermit cringed. Newsie watched in momentary satisfaction as the marbles he’d thrown rolled under broad furry feet, and the suddenly-slipping monsters flew to the side. One of the Mutations bowled over Boppity Frackle as he went down.

“We’re not kidding,” Gina called over the rumbling of a hundred or so startled monsters. “Now set them free!”

Two of the giant millipedes clicked their mandibles at the Underlord, ready to launch themselves at the threatening little Muppet, but their master held up a hand to stay them, frowning. “Oh good,” Walter sighed. “So, it’ll all work out fine, just like in your movies, right?” he asked Kermit.

Piggy shook her head. “Keep in mind this is Newsgeek we’re talking about...it might not have occurred to him that the rest of us are not fond of disaster falling on us!”

“He wouldn’t want his girlfriend hurt,” Kermit said, feeling a surge of hope. Two of the monsters approached the web, uncertainly looking up at the eager Muppets. They hesitated, checking the Underlord’s expression, though it was hard to make out much beneath the loosely-wound shroud.

“It would seem we are at an impasse,” the Underlord said, still showing his meaty palm at the monsters; the message clear: hold. “I do not have time to bargain with you, little Muppet. I’ll tell you what. Leave...and you should have a few seconds’ head start.”

“Not without my friends!” Newsie declared. He felt Gina squeeze his shoulder, and stood up taller, his pointed nose held high. “I’ll say this one more time, and only one more time: let them go, or we’re all going out of here in a lot of little pieces! As much as that’ll hurt, it’s better than allowing you to open a doorway to the forces of darkness!”

“I think our journalistically-inclined brother may be lacking some diplomatic trainage,” Dr Teeth murmured low.

“Yeah, where’s the hostage negotiator already?” Floyd complained.

“Hos-tage?” Animal asked, puzzled.

Struck with an idea, Rowlf urged the drummer, “Hey Animal! Remember the Mallory Gallery?”

“Mal-or-y?” Animal’s brows shot up. “Ah ha ha ha! Wo-man!”

“Uh...right. Maybe later,” Rowlf said. “Animal, remember how you ate through the gate bars?”

“Dude, that was just a movie set,” Floyd objected, but Rowlf shook his head impatiently.

“Animal, pretend the web is cotton candy, okay?”

The drummer looked at Rowlf a moment blankly, then looked at the white, fluffy-looking strands surrounding him. He brightened, grinning. “Ahhh! Cot-ton can-dy! Ahm nom nom nom!” With a gusto that would have done Cookie Monster proud, the drummer attacked the strands with his mouth.

“Like, he’s rully gonna have to brush his teeth tonight,” Janice sighed.

Dr Teeth shook his head in amazement at the vigor Animal displayed, ripping and gulping mouthfuls of the sticky stuff in earnest as though it really was the fairground treat. “If this is indeed a gastronomical rescue, I’ll brush them incisors shiny my own self!”

Kermit wished he had teeth. With the standoff between the Newsman and the monster boss uncertain in its outcome, chewing their way out seemed as likely a plan as anything.


-------
“I think we can go now,” Constanza hissed.

“I’m kind of liking this whole hiding-out-and-not-being-found-and-eaten thing,” Snookie argued quietly. The two of them were scrunched under a low bunk bed in a barracks room. Heavy paws and skittering feet outside in the corridor seemed to have gone their way none the wiser to the fugitives, and the only sound now was a television set tuned to Carl’s show, but Snookie wasn’t willing to risk this newfound freedom.

“I get that, but could you stop whimpering? It’s really unattractive,” the feisty activist girl complained. Snookie turned his gaze back to her, confused and a little offended.

“I’m not whimpering,” he said.

As their eyes met, both of them heard a soft, low moan. Looking around in surprise, they saw a large monster crumpled under another bunk, shivering, paws over his eyes. Bits of orange hair littered the floor around him. “What’s with him?” Constanza wondered.

“I didn’t think that last musical guest was that bad,” Snookie said. “Granted, I really doubt the world actually needed yet another parody of ‘Thriller,’ especially as warbled by a giant slug, but—“

“Whatever,” Constanza sighed. She frowned at the TV. “Hey – what’s with the Muppets in spiderweb city?”

“Yet another recast of ‘Spidermonster, the Musical’?”

“Are you ever serious?”

A witty retort was right on his tongue, but then Snookie saw the genuine annoyance in that pretty blue face, and stopped. “I can be,” he said softly. They gazed at one another a long moment. When Snookie leaned toward her for a kiss, she met him halfway. He smiled at her when they gently parted, and was pleased to see the brash girl actually turn purple in a blush. Suddenly he heard a voice he thought he recognized. He looked back up at the TV and froze. “Hey! That...that’s my cousin! What the flying fungus is he doing?”

Constanza, curious, peered from under the bed. “Uh...getting himself killed?”

They both stared at the yellow Muppet threatening the shrouded figure whom Snookie assumed must be this Underlord everyone kept talking about. “Well, that guy doesn’t look all that impressive, unless he’s really Val Kilmer and invisible under the toilet-papering.”

“But those guys will gobble him up like a Cornish game Muppet,” Constanza pointed out. “He’s your cousin? For reals?”

“I think so,” Snookie mused. “He said he was Florabeth’s son. I don’t really know much about her; she was sort of the black sheep of the family, married some sailor boy in a wartime romance, left the folds of the family cheese business...”

Constanza looked askance at him. “Family cheese business?”

Snookie sighed, rolling his eyes. “Wisconsin, okay? One of the many reasons why I went into show biz instead.”

On the TV, the short yellow guy tossed marbles at the monsters trying to rush him, sending them sprawling. Snookie gulped and then snickered, but Constanza grabbed his arm. “Snookie...they’re gonna kill him! Him and his girlfriend, and all the rest of those poor Muppets! How can you just lay here and watch this!”

“Look, I don’t know him at all, really,” Snookie argued, every ounce of self-preservation instinct already on overdrive. “He just came down here to...to find me...” He fell silent, thinking about that. This guy didn’t know you from Sam and his friends, and he said he’s been looking for you for months. And now he’s up there with all those creeps where he doesn’t stand a chance of walking out alive... His throat felt dry, his stomach twisted in a knot worse than the time Carl made him into a salted soft pretzel. He looked at Constanza. And here’s this brave little chick, who risked her own felt trying to get you out of the pie-tin of doom. She glared challengingly at him.

“Well?” she demanded. “Do you intend to just hide here all night? How deep does that yellow go, anyway?”

Snookie scowled at her. “Look, I’m no coward, but don’t you see how many monsters are up there? Except for Carl’s audience, and this guy,” he indicated the cringing, traumatized ogre, “that would be, let’s see, one, two, oh all of them! We set foot anywhere near there, and we won’t even get the courtesy of being baked before being sliced and diced, kid!”

Constanza’s face turned dark. “I’m not a kid!” She withdrew from him a little under the bunk. “I thought you were so stoic...so heroic for withstanding all they did to you...guess I was wrong about you.”

Chagrined, Snookie looked from her to the Muppetian standoff on the screen. “No, I...I mean it wasn’t ever like...oh...” He blew out a frustrated, guilty breath. “Oh...cripes.”

She stared at him. “Cripes?”

He gave her a wry frown. “It’s a Wisconsin thing. What it means right now is...we’re gonna have to go barge in there and give him a distraction, aren’t we?”

A slow grin spread on her sharp face. “We’ll be Butch and Sundance.”

Snookie shuddered. “I didn’t know you were old enough to have seen that movie.”

“Come on,” she ordered, crawling out from under the bed. “This’ll be epic!”

Remembering a term he’d heard some of the goblins use while taking pictures of the unlucky contestants on several of the shows he hosted, Snookie muttered, “Yeah...an epic fail...” With a sigh, and not a little admiration of the energy and courage his new girlfriend was displaying, he went after her. A thought hit him on the way out the door. “I have a girlfriend,” he muttered aloud, wonderstruck. Before he could fall fully into a mental count of how many years it had been since his playboy, frat-house days, Constanza stopped, turned on a dime, and grabbed his cheeks in her soft hands. Startled, Snookie froze, then melted into her kiss.

She pushed him away with a low laugh. “And if you wanna keep her, move your foam,” she said. “Just think! We’re gonna stand up to these bullies on live TV! What a coup for Muppet rights!”

“Sounds more like right-to-die to me,” Snookie grumbled, but with a strangely light heart for a man heading for his doom, he fell in step with her. Together, hand in hand, they raced along the empty corridor.


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Captain Slurg hissed at the Underlord, “Want me to get that dynamite bag away from the interloper, your magnificence?”

The grim figure on the dais paced in a tight circle. “It seems we must. This is exceedingly distressing, Slurg. Had you neutralized this fool when I ordered you to...”

Stung, the piranha-faced thing growled. “It was not my fault! We did retrieve his floozy!”

“Which is now a moot point,” the Underlord growled back. His pet caterpillar bared her little fangs at Slurg to echo the master’s disapproval. “If you wish a higher place than dung-shoveler in our new regime, do something about this nuisance!”

“Burt!” Slurg ordered, startling the wolflike creature which had been watching events unfold from the back of the crowd. “Stop him!”

Newsie clung tight to the knapsack, feeling his knees trying to buckle, desperately staying upright though the sight of so many monsters glaring at him made him want to flee. If he hadn’t taken so many of those anti-monsterphobia pills, he had no doubt that right now he’d be grabbing Gina’s hand and running for dear life. Or possibly fainting. Gina leaned over to whisper in his ear, “What now?”

“I’m just a reporter!” he muttered back. “I have no idea! On the cop shows, this is usually the point at which the bad guys give up...or...”

“Graaaaahhh!” yelled Big Mama, impatient with all of it. She lunged forward. Newsie dodged, Gina threw her arms under his and lifted him backwards, and the angry monster nearly smacked into a wall.

“Or when things go badly wrong!” Newsie finished, trying his best to keep the knapsack over his head as though he was going to hurl it down any second. He didn’t think such a bluff would buy him enough time to free everyone; they looked badly stuck in that webbing, and all he had left in the bag was a coil of rope, which wouldn’t scare anybody! Suddenly two huge brown paws grabbed the bag away from him. Newsie yelped and jumped, but couldn’t retrieve it. Gina whirled, instinctively shoving Newsie out of the way, but stopped in shock when she saw a big-mouthed, kangaroo-eared monster three times the size of the grumpy-jawed Big Mama.

Even Bigger Mama growled at Newsie and Gina, then flipped the knapsack over and shook it out.

With a collective gasp, every single monster flinched, expecting an explosion.

The rope fell onto the Newsman’s upturned nose, almost knocking off his glasses. When another second passed and everyone realized the bag was empty, a heavy sigh went around the ballroom. The Underlord began to chuckle, building up to another hard, mean laugh. Slurg darted forward, grabbed the rope, and snarled at Even Bigger, “Hold them!”

With a weighty scowl, the monster put a paw apiece on Newsie’s and Gina’s shoulders, pressing down. Newsie cried out in pain, and Gina made a sound of protest, but neither could free themselves from the massive grip of the beast. The scattered chortles and growls of triumph were overwhelmed by a bellow over the speakers hung around the room. “Enough of this foolishness! It is time, my hideous brethren!”

Every eye turned to the dais. The Underlord reached down to an ornate box his trembling doglizard held up for him, and plucked out a large syringe. “The hour is upon us, my children! Tonight, we shall be hidden and skulking in the shadows no longer...we shall surge into the streets, and teach those simpering surface-dwellers what it really means to be scared of the dark! Night evermore shall make this city our playground, our hunting-ground!”

Murmurs of approval swept the room. Gina tried to reach her Newsie, but the enormous monster kept her pinned in place while the ugly, toothy thing used Newsie’s rope to bind him hand and foot. Newsie yelled, “You’re traitors, all of you! The Muppets have only ever been kind to you, and this is how you repay them? They let you act onstage! They let you eat them for a few cheap laughs! And now you’re going to kill them just because this nutjob wants you to?”

“Slurg,” the Underlord said, almost mildly, not looking up as he jabbed himself in the arm with the needle. Newsie couldn’t tell if it hurt at all; the bandages covered too much of the figure’s face to see any expression.

Slurg grimaced at Newsie, and wrapped one loop of the rope so that it went over Newsie’s nose and lodged in his mouth. The fiend yanked it tight, and Newsie gave a grunt of pain, and then couldn’t say anything at all. Gina struggled more, but the monster behind her put her other paw down, and she was held firmly where she stood. Newsie blinked up at her, his eyes watering, and Gina suddenly wanted her claws back.

Newsie looked over at his friends, similarly bound in layers of horrible spider-silk. He actually felt sympathy for Rizzo and Pepe for once, as he saw the two of them trying unsuccessfully to wriggle away from a huge orange-furred spider hovering over them with a knife and fork in two of its prickly feet and a checkered bib around its thick neck. Scooter, Sara, Kermit, Piggy...oh no, even little Robin! And...and isn’t that Mr Bland? Or Blander? One of them, anyway...looks like every Muppet they could catch is trapped in here...wait. Not Chester?And where’s Rhonda? He squinted at the trussed Muppets. No, they’re not here...are they saving them for something else? Was Rhonda...eaten? He noticed that walrus was flopped in a corner, tethered by a skein of silk around his tail, looking dazed and ill and covered in what might be castor oil. Maybe...maybe Chester got away! This made him think of Murrow. He looked back at Gina, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest. If only the inspector can bring the National Guard down here...maybe he’s on his way right now...maybe any second...

“It is time for all of you – for the entire world – to see what happens when those simpering fools vilify someone, when they call him a monster so often he vows to prove them right!” the Underlord bellowed. He shuddered, staggering, and the assembly fell back a step, every eye wide, every jaw slack, as ripples and disturbing undulations rocked the Underlord. “Eustace!” he gasped, flinging his arms wide, “Unveil me!”

Shaking, the doglizard crept forward, and began snipping and tugging loose the ragged shroud concealing the master’s form. “All eyes! All eyes on me!” the Underlord snarled, and the camerafrackles who’d been hanging back unobtrusively now pushed their instruments forward, terrified, intent on the transformation making their master even more frightening than usual.

Even Bigger Mama stood transfixed. Gina managed to edge closer to her love, and put her hand on Newsie’s shoulder; he leaned against her, thinking, Oh frog...at least we’ll go down together...

The shroud dropped to the floor.
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newsmanfan

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*Evil Emperor impression, stroking fingertips together*

Soooon...soooooon...

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The Count

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Things I liked...

Gonzo and Camilla's reunion.

Piggy's action heroine roles, including a nice nod to Fozzie's Angels.

Animal devouring the silk, er, cotton candy.
"Looks like we'll have to eat our way out of this."
And with gusto that would make :insatiable: proud.

"This guy didn’t know you from Sam and his friends."
Nice, nice reference.
Also... <3 Snookie and Constanza.
Yes o swift-witted one, you now have a girlfriend. So go and keep her.

Where is Rhonda anyway? Last I remember, she and Bubba were being menaced with meeting Mortimer who's standing guard outside the hotel.

BTW: The fic's almost over, and it's a moote point at this point, but so you know the monster's name is "Mean Mamma". And I like we finally met Even "Meaner?" Mamma.

Don't worry Newsie. They may have taken away your bluff. They may have you trussed up in ropes similar to the rest of the Muppets. They may even force you to witness that Underlord's metamorphosis. But remember, you've got an ace up your sleeve, your trump card so to spook in the form of that redhead girlfriend of yours and the mutually convergent transformative phenomenal energy events you're able to cause when your volitile elements are combined or in close proximity to one another.
:confused: Oh my, that sounds positively scientific!
:eek: shakes his head in disbelief.

More please.
 

newsmanfan

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Part Fifty-Three (II)

Every television set in the underground complex seemed to have been deliberately left on; while this was by no means an uncommon thing, the utter emptiness of the halls and studios and cells unnerved Snookie deeply. In room after room as they navigated the corridors, he could hear, and sometimes see, a screen blaring out monstrous laughter and the cold, imperious tones of the Underlord, with no other sign of life save a few of the slow-moving glowworms. They found the tunnel just ahead collapsed, a mass of granite rocks and gray dust. Constanza made a sound of irritation, but Snookie pointed to a door next to the cave-in. “These studios usually have a front and a back exit,” he told her. He pulled the door open, and they found a studio dressed to look like a plush bedroom, although the satin comforter was rumpled askew, lamps had crashed to the shag carpet, and a privacy screen knocked over. Snookie paused, bemused. “Oh man...please don’t tell me the monsters have started shooting that kind of direct-to-video release...”

“Snookie...who the heck is that guy?” Constanza asked, pointing to a TV switched on in a corner. A writhing, shuddering figure onstage was being unraveled from a cocoon of long rags; as they watched, transfixed, the last of the wrappings fell away. A large, excessively plump man with pale skin and no hair grabbed his pulsing head and groaned. The monsters gathered around let out a collective gasp of fear and drew away as though a wave had hit them.

Snookie stared hard. Holy crap, looks like a cave grub suddenly put in the spotlight...why does he seem familiar? Then the man raised his crumpled face to the camera, his pug nose, round cheeks, and protruding forehead almost meeting in the center as he scowled and roared in pain. Snookie caught his breath, stunned. “That – that’s – Rupert Q. Pattypan!” He was amazed almost as much by his memory of the creep’s name as by his sudden reappearance under these circumstances.

Constanza stared at the individual on the dais, wrinkling her lip at the folds of fat bouncing over the jockey shorts. “He really needs a detox regimen... Should I know this guy? Is he a famous beef industry spokesman or something?”

Snookie shook his head. “No...he’s nobody...he...he was the night watchman at WOOP...local UHF station, went under years ago. ‘Swift Wits’ was syndicated on it for a while, after KMUP stopped broadcasting and before MMN bought the rights... Yeesh. What the hey is he doing down here?”

Constanza grimaced. “Not getting nearly enough sun, apparently.”

They stood in stunned silence a few seconds longer. On the screen, the rotund man with undulating body parts grabbed a microphone in one clawlike hand, and in between hoarse gasps, began a defiantly triumphant rant. “Now, friends and fiends, now you shall witness what happens when someone is regarded as a freak, a loser, a monster by people far more shallow, insipid, and unimaginative! Tonight, when darkness sweeps over your city, and you realize the monsters have finally come for you, oh yes, that we are finally on Maple Street – then you shall finally understand the hate you yourselves have fostered! I was nobody to you! Well now I am more than somebody – I am your ultimate nightmare! I am the terror that crawls in the night! For years you mocked me, you ‘pretty’ people, you morons obsessed with your reality TV and your double-shot lattes and your disgustingly cheerful Muppet celebrities!”

Constanza shivered, but tried to deflect her anxiety with a joke the way her newfound Romeo did. “I wouldn’t call you disgustingly cheerful,” she told him, putting more sarcasm in her voice than she felt currently. “More like aggressively mocking. Carl’s food is more disgusting.”

“Believe me, I only wish I was famous enough to be included in his little psycho-rant,” Snookie muttered.

“So this...Squash guy...isn’t targeting you?”

“Pattypan. And I don’t think it makes much of a difference to him how famous I am now,” Snookie said, unable to stop a shiver. “I’m still a Muppet.”

Constanza felt a surge of pride for him. Yes. And All Muppets ought to stick together! Fight the power! “We need to get up there and fast! Where’s that being filmed?”

“I...I’m not sure.” Snookie frowned. “I see windows...aboveground?”

“Zey are in ze hotel upstairs,” came a strange chorus. “Help...us...”

The frightened Whatnots whirled, and saw a truly scary sight: a gelatinous mass in a corner of the fake bedroom, a bedraggled pirate’s hat atop it, legs sticking out at odd angles, and an unhappy rippling coursing all through it. Snookie shuddered, putting one arm in front of Constanza, although rationally he knew his neglected, weakened foam wouldn’t protect her from a raging blob. He saw a gasping snout sticking out of the mass. “Pew?” he demanded, horrified.

“Oui...eet is ah,” a liquidy voice came from deep within the blob. Constanza saw the blob and the director speaking in unison, and hid her face behind Snookie’s shoulder. “Help us, mon ami!”

“You forced me to host that awful daredevil show!” Snookie snapped, backing away slowly. “We are notamis’!”

“Ohhh please, just pull us apart,” the blob moaned, though Pew’s jaws moved in time with the words. “I can’t stand French food!”

The enmeshed creatures reached pleadingly toward Snookie. Overwhelmed, he grabbed Constanza’s hand and ran for the opposite door.


-------
In the ballroom, the gathered monsters stared in awe and terror as Rupert Q. Pattypan, a nobody no more, spat and trembled in the throes of an awful transformation. “None of you saw my greatness! I was mocked by the world of men, and when I demanded my rightful place among the Muppet monsters, I was told I was not monstery enough!” the Underlord roared.

Shaken, Kermit looked at Scooter. “Did we ever see this guy before?” He realized the initial vetting of new talent, during the height of their television show’s popularity, had been farmed out to Jim and Frank and some of those guys who helped out around the theatre; could one of them have rejected this crazed man and started him on this tunnel to ruin?

Scooter shook his head. “I think I would’ve remembered him!”

Hearing part of this, the Underlord pointed a shaking paw of a hand at them. “Lies! Lies! I didn’t even get an audition! You sent back my résume with a curt note about not having any use for people pretending to be monsters!” A surge washed through him, and he wavered, grabbing the mic stand for balance. Eustace stared in a mix of disgust and fascination: his lord and master was a mere human? How...atrocious! The Underlord kept gesturing at the trapped Muppets against the far wall. “Well am I monstrous enough for you now? Hey? Am I?”

“Look, I don’t know what all this is about, but if you wanted to be on our show, why didn’t you just audition as yourself?” Kermit shouted. “Why claim to be a monster?”

“I am on the inside!” the Underlord howled, starting to scratch at his chest in a disturbingly violent manner. Sara shut her eyes; Scooter tried again to reach her, to comfort her, angry at the web strands which held him fast.

“Oh I can’t look,” Fozzie moaned, turning his face into his suspended arm, on the verge of crying. “Make him stop! Someone!”

Newsie pressed against Gina, both of them powerless to stop the crazytrain barreling down on everyone now. Her free hand clung tightly to his shoulder, and he wished he could tell her one last time how much he loved her, how much she meant to him, but the rope in his mouth prevented more than a gurgle. She held him as close as she could, still imprisoned herself by Even Bigger Mama’s enormous claws, and whispered fiercely, “I love you, Aloysius! I’ll always love you, no matter what!” Newsie felt tears welling up afresh, and turned his head, needing whatever contact he could still manage with her. The floor quivered underfoot, and dust shook down from the ceiling. Newsie wondered in dismay whether his and Gina’s grief would bring down the building on their heads before this horrible event could come to its bloody conclusion, or whether even the strange and unpredictable power they seemed to share would be too weak to prevent the rise of the worst monster of them all.

“Ahhhh!” the Underlord howled, bent double by a streak of pain. “I’m changing! I’m Ascending!” Eustace noticed the huge dusty clock on the wall poised at ten-thirty, the seconds marking off like a death-march. “The moment is now! Kill them, my pets! Kill the Muppets! Open the portal and send their souls to endless darkness! Give me power unbridled, power incarnate, power to destroy all that has held us down and kept us from our destiny! Kill them now!”

Several of the monsters, moved more by fear than by any sense of the moral rightness of the Monster Race, lined up opposite the entrapped Muppets, wielding axes, blowtorches, or their own fearsome claws and teeth. They exchanged nervous glances. Kermit squeezed Piggy’s hand tight; she closed her eyes, trying one last time to force her way free. Robin gulped back a sob. “I love you guys,” Kermit croaked, “All of you!” Camilla clucked and swooned; Gonzo clutched her to his chest, staring in horror at the figure on the dais, who seemed to be expanding as though an air pump had been turned on in his already-huge belly. Rizzo and Pepe shivered uncontrollably as the furry orange spider raised them within an inch of its drooling jaws, and hugged one another.

“So long, pal,” Rizzo gulped.

“Jou are not so bad, for a rat,” Pepe admitted.

Rizzo drew back, affronted. “Really? We’re about to be chewed into little pieces by the Arachnid of Doom here and you gotta put a qualifier on dat? Really?”

The ballooning, twisting, changing underlord roared in a voice now more rough and monstrous than any creature’s in the room, “Kill them all!”

“STOOOOOP!” came an answering howl; the monsters cringed. Two of the smaller Frackles fainted, unable to process so much emotional strain. Startled, the Muppets and monsters all looked toward the ballroom doorway. There, with lightning flashing overhead, loomed a shadowy figure: it seemed to have multiple arms and writhing hair. Then the wriggling things detached from the shoulders of the caped figure, sliding and hopping into the room as a menacing, dramatic individual advanced behind them, arms upraised. “Cease this foolishness at once!” Uncle Deadly ordered in his most threatening tone; his voice carried through the room like a tidal wave, and he was pleased all his diction lessons at Oxford had not been wasted.

“Stop! Awww! Stop stop stop! Yip! Yip yip yip yip yip uh-huh!” cried a raggedy pink thing.

“Mmmnn, stoooop! Yip yip yip stop!” echoed a raggedy blue thing.

Newsie’s eyes were as wide as they could get. They’re on our side? But...but...didn’t they hurt Ethel?

Scooter blew out a breath of relief. “I think that’s the first time I’ve been glad to see him interrupt an act,” he muttered.

The malevolent monsters froze, their attention centered on the vengeful ghost as he stalked into the room, sweeping his cape down behind him and glaring around with angry green pinpricks of eyes. Wherever that gaze passed, a monster winced and looked away. “If any of you are so depraved as to harm even one of this motley troupe of players, I shall personally see to it they haunt you for the rest of your miserable lives!” Deadly promised, his hollow voice echoing in the suddenly-still room. “I shall see to it that every one of the murdered souls becomes a ghost every bit as powerful and dangerous as me, and don’t think I won’t do it! Death and I are like this!” He crossed his fingers, and the monsters all gasped, groaned, or flinched.

The pink tentacled thing paused in its agitated gyrations, tapping the ghost on one tap-heeled boot. “Uh...aww...how?”

Deadly shrugged. “Well, we have poker night every Tuesday. The old sod is terrible at five-card stud. You should see the tab he’s run up; he owes me big-time.”

“Deadly, get us out of here!” Kermit called.

The dragon huffed. “What does it look as though I’m doing?” He glared around the room again. “You have all apparently forgotten the second-most important rule about the undead – the first of which, of course, is ‘Never get involved in a ghost war in Chinatown,’ but no less important is this: Never underestimate the power of a Phantom when the Muppets are down and Death himself is on the line!’” He pulled a cell phone from his vest pocket. “I have him on speed dial, fools! Don’t make me use it!”

Steve the giant spider groaned deeply, dropped Rizzo and Pepe, and swooned; he’d always had nightmares about ghosts. The other monsters hesitated.

The clock ticked over: ten thirty-two.

“Imbeciles!” a deafening roar startled everyone. The Underlord stretched himself upright, his head now just below the high ceiling, and snarled at all of them, “Fools! Wretches! I see none of you are worthy of the supreme monster regime! None of you can call yourselves members of the Glorious Monster Race! I am more monstrous than all of you put together!”

“Looks bigger than ‘em all put together,” Rowlf observed unhappily.

The trembling Frackles and cowering goblins and assorted fiends, ogres, bugbears and bedbugs all looked at one another. Several of them lowered their weapons and began backing away, the order to kill the Muppets superseded by utter terror at the warped, twisted form of their still-changing master. “You will all perish!” the bulbous, wormy thing roared, even as what had been his arms drew in close to his pale thick body and what had been legs stretched and hardened. Newsie had a vision of a gigantic bug unfolding from a pupa casing, and cringed against Gina; she held his shoulder so tightly she could feel the foam scrunched against his bones, but neither of them made a sound, too shocked. The ballroom rumbled, the walls shaking. Deadly cast a look around, surprised and concerned. “All of you will be my first feast, in this, my utmost glory of monsterdom! I will show you all what a real monster looks like!” the warped voice howled. Smaller monsters began to rip down the ancient shutters over the ballroom windows, desperate to get away before they could be eaten or crushed, whichever came first.

“Rahhhh ha ha ha ha ha!” yelled an unexpected voice. Jaws dropped all over the room as Animal thumped to the floor, freed of the not-quite-cotton-candy. He stared at the nearest monster, the unfortunate J G. “Can-dy!” roared the manic drummer, and tackled the ponderous Frackle. A cheer erupted from the Mayhem members.

“Ack! No, wait, wait, I think you have me confused with someone else,” J G protested, trying to block the blows even as tufts of green fur scattered to the four winds. “I have a cousin named Candy, but she’s much shorter, and we really don’t sound that much alike even though my brother Mike says...snoorrrrkkk...” As Animal paused, bewildered by the monster’s sudden sleep attack, Walter cried out.

“Looook!”

All eyes shot to the dais. With a final shudder, the Underlord finished his transformation. He looked around wildly, flapped his stumps of arms, and opened his beak.

“BAWWWWWWK!”

Rosie McGurk stared. He turned to his brother. “Wagga happa?”

Thatch thought of serums and ingredient substitutions, and suddenly turned a deeper shade of purple and had something else to look at, over there, on the floor perhaps...

Gonzo’s jaw slowly dropped until you could have run a rhino into his mouth. “Oh...my...goodnesss! Look at those legs! Look at that chest!”

The Underlord had become a twelve-foot-tall, completely featherless...

The blue Martian blinked. “Awwaww. Chick-en.”

Camilla came to her senses woozily, conscious of a great hubbub around her, of the room shaking, of the web bouncing crazily. She blinked and managed to focus. There stood the biggest naked chicken she’d ever seen, and Gonzo...

Wanda twisted herself closer to Walter and thrust her hand over the dazed kid’s eyes. “Don’t look!”

Gonzo was looking.

Camilla suddenly gained a burst of strength, of energy, and of absolute jealous rage.

“Buh-gawk bawk buh BAWK!” she shrieked, and with a mighty flap of her wings, burst free of the web and launched herself right at the startled face of the interloper. Her sharp little beak hit home several times in quick succession like semi-automatic chickenfire, and the Underchicken flinched and cackled unhappily, but then the featherless freak recovered enough sense to bat her out of the air with a meaty, pimply-skinned wing. Camilla clucked in alarm and scooted to one side before an enormous taloned foot stomped down.

Uncle Deadly huffed and puffed and finally tossed his whiskers in the air in contempt. “Now this is just silly! Evil tyrants deserving of a grand speech, I will always be glad to confront...but a...a giant...escapee from a rotisserie?” He snorted and drew his cloak around him. “This is just silly, and I, master thespian, do not do silly!” He glared once more at the giant poultry, and vanished.

Newsie tried to shake his head, convinced he was dead or dreaming. Gina gasped, unsure whether to laugh or scream. When the giant chicken lurched closer, Even Bigger Mama decided she didn’t want to be stepped on either, and stumbled backward, abruptly freeing Gina. Gina cried out, knocked off-balance, but before she could hit the floor, her Newsman wrenched his body under hers, bracing her. Their eyes met, and another tremor rocked the room, spoiling a lunge the Underchicken was making at Camilla. Gina grabbed the rope and began tugging the knots loose with frantic fingers.

Gonzo shook himself, trying not to watch, then worrying about his sweetie and watching. “Camilla! Look out for the beak! –Oh, holy poultry, what a beak!”

Eustace stumbled away from the reeling, wildly thrashing chickens, his expression echoing the disgust Deadly had displayed. “This is madness!” he growled, and jumped at a voice right behind him; he’d strayed too near the web.

“No, man,” Floyd Pepper wheezed, grinning although strands of web decorated his hat. “This...is...poultry!”

Eustace hissed, pulling away from the Muppet who’d been so careless as to actually talk to him, raising his tail to teach the insolent creature a lesson – but then the room shook again, as much from the enormous feet of the Underchicken stomping as from the bewildered anxiety coming from the Newsman. A chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling on the doglizard’s head, and he coughed, decided he’d be better off making a break for the tunnels, and fled – but the doorway collapsed atop him. With a collective squeal, most of the giant bugs skittered up the walls, finding any crevice they could to escape, all focused on fleeing back underground.

“Animal! Up here, man!” Floyd yelled. Animal looked up at him, and when Floyd gestured with his free hand at the wobbly webbing, Animal’s eyes widened in comprehension. He jumped up, biting the silk strands starting to fray, and hung on by his powerful jaws, doing his best to chew through. Seeing this, the two raggedy creatures climbed tentacle-over-eyestalk up into the spiderweb, their wide mouths closing over sections of webbing and chewing for all their worth.

“Ahhhh nom nom nom!” Animal gargled, his arms and legs dangling free as he flopped by his teeth like a hooked bass fish.

“Nom. Nom nom. Yip yip yip nom.”

“Awww nom nom nom,” mumbled Blue. He paused, suddenly aware he had something other than spider-silk in his mouth; shrimp and monster stared at one another a second. Then Blue spat Pepe to the floor. “Aww. Cat. Unh-uh. Nooope nope nope.”

“Like, should I be insulted already or what, okay?” Pepe grumbled, trying to pluck stray strands of stickiness off what had been a pair of designer crab leather pants.

“Who cares? Me next! Me next!” yelled Rizzo.

Camilla fluttered and dodged, clucked and weaved, as the enraged giant plucked chicken tried time and again to stomp, to peck, and to bat at her with featherless wings. “Get ‘em, sweetie!” Gonzo yelled, exhilarated. Oh my frog I must be dreaming, this is JUST like that one fantasy where... oh geez... “No prisoners!” he crowed, waving his arms in ecstasy.

Gina finally freed Newsie of the binding rope. He gasped deeply, and threw his arms around her. She hugged him tightly in return, but then the floor trembled so violently she nearly fell to her knees. “Everybody out!” Gina shouted, hoping they could hear her over the tumult of angry chickens. “There’s going to be another psychokinetic energy event! Everyone abandon ship!”

Fozzie staggered over to them, out of the way of the chickenfight, grabbing Gina’s arm when another rumble rocked the floor, then giving her an apologetic wince. “But we’re not on a ship!”

“Abandon hotel, then!” Newsie yelled hoarsely.

Timmy, the Thing from the Green Lagoon, had been secretly relieved when that dragon had distracted everyone past the killing moment, but now he feared for his tail. Remembering the explosion he’d sent the still-absent Lunchy after belowground, he saw those scientist guys struggling with the web nearby, and grabbed a saw-nosed beetle to cut them free. “Hey, uh...I saw a crack in the foundation...is the chickenfight gonna wreck this place?” he asked them.

Beaker leaned away from the ponderous amphibian monster; he’d seen it cough up that poor walrus earlier! But Bunsen dusted his lab coat off gratefully, and adjusted his spectacles. “No, what we’re experiencing is the result of two naturally-occurring psychokinetic fields converging in a dangerous and potentially reality-warping overlap of concurrent frequencies!” he explained.

“Meemurrent meemencies,” Beaker agreed, casting a nervous look at the rattling ceiling boards.

Timmy gave them a blank look. “So...uh...is the hotel gonna hold up?”

Bunsen considered it while a bevy of boards narrowly missed both him and Beaker, crashing down between them. “Well, I might have projected a ten per cent chance that the building itself would survive the coming quake, had its foundation not already sustained damage, but with that information in hand, I would have to revise that estimate to –“

“Meee!” shrieked Beaker, as one of the wall sconces fell on him.

“Slim to none!” Bunsen finished, alarmed. He put an anxious hand to his mouth, regarding his downed assistant. “...Beaker?”

“Oh my god,” Gonzo whimpered, awed at the sheer magnificence of one gracefully flapping chicken and one stupendous plucked one tangled in the primordial dance of sheer avian fury. “Somebody bring me some popcorn...”

-----------
Snookie grabbed Constanza’s arm. “Wait!”

She tugged at him, irritated. “But those steps go up! That’s gotta be the way out!”

“I see lights moving around down that tunnel,” Snookie pointed out. “Might be a patrol! We need to find cover!”

Constanza yanked on the knob of a red door opposite the brick-lined side tunnel. “It’s locked! We’ll just have to run for it!” She tugged twice more just to make sure the door wasn’t simply stuck from all the mildewy dampness down here, and suddenly it flew open. She and Snookie froze, staring at the tall opossum in a shredded lab coat glaring at them from ill-fitting safety goggles.

“What? What? Can’t you see I’m busy?” the creature cried.

Snookie knew that voice. “Dah...Doctor Van Neuter?”

The thing cringed, then hurriedly waved his hands in a shooing motion. “No! Never heard of him! Nope! Nosiree! Now go away!” SLAM.

Constanza began giggling. “Seriously?”

Snookie recovered first, pulling her toward the slippery-looking steps. “Come on! If we’re lucky they’re slugs and we can outrun—“

“Hey you! Hold it right there! DEA!”

“Oh frog no,” Snookie moaned. “Okay, look, guys, this isn’t what it looks like; we were trying to join the party upstairs and—“

Constanza frowned. “DEA?”

The bobbing lights and footstep noises emerged from the tunnel. A group of men in bulletproof vests with flashlights and pesticide sprayers came to a halt at the foot of the stairs. One of them raised his riot mask to peer uncertainly at the shorter Muppets. “These them?”

A purple Whatnot bellied his way to the front of the line to scowl at Snookie and Constanza. “Nahh...these two are victims! Take ‘em for decon.” Two of the men grabbed the arms of the Muppets, over Constanza’s loud protests, but then a growing rumble made everyone pause. Special Inspector Murrow frowned. “Hold your position; that sounds like...”

Lights lifted to the stairs to illuminate a rushing flood of bugs.

“Aaaaaah!” Snookie shrieked, throwing his arms over his head; Constanza ducked behind one of the guys with the riot gear. The skittering, squealing tidal wave of insects both tiny and gigantic slammed into the Health Department-FDA-DEA joint task force operatives, and suddenly the Muppets coughed and hacked as gallons of insecticide was sprayed into the tunnel from panicked agents. Murrow yelled at them to stop, citing regulations about enclosed areas and toxic gases, and finally the agents turned off their sprayers and took stock of the situation.

Snookie coughed, waving his hands, and stepped over a caterpillar fallen at his feet. It seemed to be white and furry, and as he hesitantly examined it, it hiccuped. Startled, he jerked away. The caterpillar lolled, rubbed his foot, and began purring...and hiccuping. Both quite loudly.

Constanza glared around at the dazed bugs all flopping, trying to crawl and failing, or laying on their hard backs waving their multiple legs and giggling. “Oh, wonderful. You made them all drunk.”

Murrow’s brow furrowed even as his eyes widened. “I...I didn’t expect that!”

“Come on,” the veteran activist said, brushing the water from her eyes; it wasn’t the first time she’d been onion-gassed. “The Muppets are still in trouble! They need us!”

What sounded like industrial demolition pounded upstairs, and dust sifted from the ceiling. Nervous flashlights trained in that direction showed tiny cracks spreading rapidly. “Nobody told me we needed a civil engineer as well!” Murrow muttered darkly. “I don’t have the forms for that! We’ll have to go back!”

One of the agents stepped over to him, ripping his mask off to argue. “The seek-and-destroy part of this operation is under my command, and we need to find and neutralize all of the genetically-altered insects before they spread through the city and cause millions of dollars of damage to the infrastructure!”

“You wouldn’t even know about the mass of violations down here if it hadn’t been for me!” Murrow snapped.

Snookie shook his head, gesturing at the stairs. “Uh, guys? Big Uggy still up there somewhere? Muppets in danger? Anyone?”

“Your role was provisional – you’re just here to make sure procedure is followed!”

“And part of that procedure is seeing to it that all necessary forms have been filed! This building is unstable and clearly we need an engineer, or at the very least a city building inspector, to—“

Seeing this was going to take a while, Snookie agreed with Constanza, and the two of them crept up the stairs while the territorial dispute continued. He took her hand, assisting her over the slippery parts; he’d had a lot of experience with navigating slippery things...such as monster digestive tracts. Constanza met his eyes, and gave him a smile. It was fierce and determined and possibly a little onion-gas drunk, and right then Snookie knew he was in love again. And for more than a week this time. Feeling far more joyous than this mission called for, he clambered up the stone steps toward a new destiny.
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WebMistressGina

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OMG! So much WIN!

First, I almost expected the guy to be a Muppet, so to be a man...whoa!

Gonzo. Oh. My. God. Gonzo. I could just see this in my head - Gonzo standing there, watching what literally constitutes to his version of free live porn. I was just waiting for the others to scream at him to cut them lose, while he's just catatonic.

*shakes head* Just can't get over Gonzo. OMG, laughed so hard...
 

The Count

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You've got such a dirty mind on you Gina. Then again, with all you've written for the little weirdo, I shouldn't be surprised that part of the fic would give you a fit of the giggles like the onion gas did to the bugs.
Was that the Underlord's white caterpillar who purred and hiccupped?

Other things I liked...
1 Yes, the monsters really are on Maple Street.
And the hatred you've fostered, nice quotes from the classic Twilight Zone episode.

2 The terror that crawls in the night.
Channeling your Darkwing Duck scribe?
Wouldn't put it past you since there was the nod to Count Duckula some pages ago I don't remember now what it was though.

3 Tunnel of ruin.
Lovely image.

4 Crazy train.
All aboooooaaaard! ! !

5 Hmm, I'm not familiar with those additional rules my roomie mentioned. But I'm glad I'm not the only one whose thought of Deadly attending poker nights with Death and some of the guys like the Devil mentioned when he met up with his angel baby.

6 The Underlord's metamorphosis, in the inflating reminded me of the villainous King Koo-Koo from the Raggedy Ann & Andy movie.
Yes, I've watched waaaay too many things on TV in my lifetime, and my mind's like Hogwarts' Room of Requirement—at least the version of it where Rowina Ravenclaw's diadem was stashed.

Absolutely love how Uncle D stormed in and caused the monsters to back down.
Glad that the Martians took up after Animal once the drummer broke through on to the other side.
And a 'claws up' to Timmy for going to free the scientists.
Trust burocratic types to get into a territorial war over who's in charge and proper form filing procedure.

But now we know who the Underlord is... My previous guesses as to his identity have been blown out of the water. My initial theory had him as Cosmo Scam from The Great Santa Claus Switch. But you added elements of Mayor Richard Wilkins III from Buffy's third season. And now the final outcome, thanks to Thatch McGerk is a twelve-foot tall plucked purple-spotted winged chicken engaged in battle with :cluck:

Thank you so much for this. More please.
 

newsmanfan

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1,661
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Working on it...thanks guys!

What? ED? You DIDN'T get my "Princess Bride" reference? Tsk tsk tsk.

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