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Jim Henson Idea Man
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Author's Note: Hope this gets me off of Aunt Ru's short list for not writing an ALS Challenge fic. And maybe it'll get some more KG posted as well.
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Evening in the city, ah, think of it. Hensonville could be a bustling metropolis of Muppets and suburbanites, but it was stil home to all. Sure, there was slushed snow on the sidewalks you had to avoid. Sure, the breeze blowing outdoors made you want to bundle up. But these were the trappings of living in the heart of Hensonville.
The streetlamps had turned on, beacons glowing to guide the weary wanderer. And if you knew where you were going, chances were you'd end up at the famed club named the Bat, Bolt & Skull. The staff had changed since opening its doors. Andre Monster, acting host would greet you at the door, asking you to please wait at the bar. You might be inclined to have a bit of chitchat with the Masked Phantom before ordering something to drink from the female bartender. Because there was a bit of a crowd, they needed extra waiters, namely the Batley Triplets. Any one of the three of them was perfectly capable of leading you to an open table. They'd take your order and relay it to the kitchen cooks. Both Mrs. Plum and her brother Boris worked hard on getting the meal prepared to the client's particular tastes. Good thing the bats had been trained by Yolanda before she had left a year ago to pursue her passion for cinematic production as she worked with Kermit and the crew on their latest movie.
Seated in his usual corner booth, Ed was perusing the list of acts the club had managed to line up for the coming months. Bonejangles and the Bone Boys provided regular performances, but it was nice to attract the big names from time to time. The club had set aside a spot in the spring for Grisha, Misha and Sasha—apparently they wanted to give the patrons a different kind of treat, swapping their BBS uniforms for songbat dresses—, secured a gig by the Indie Vittles during their US tour in the summer, and oh--surprise! The Vile Bunch for a full week in October. Pushing down the laptop's screen for a while, Ed's thoughts began to drift. He started to remember what these past holidays had been like.
Thinking of the holidays made him think of someone in particular, how they'd not seen each other since they returned to their respective professional commitments, whatever they happened to be. Mysterious as ever, Ed could only grin at the memory. He started to hum a little, a familiar tune coming to mind as he sang.
"I'll have a boo Cryptmas without you," his voice rang out, low, though it did perk up the band to start to follow.
"I'll be so boo just thinking about you.
Decorations of dread, on a green Cryptmas tree.
Will mean nothing, little Darklin', if you're not here with me."
His impersonation picked up again for the second verse.
"And when those boo heartaches start hurting.
I'll be so boo without you, that's for certain."
Lightening just a touch, he continued with the ending refrain.
"You'll be doing all fright, with your Cryptmas of white.
But I'll have a boo, boo Cryptmas."
The song faded and the chime above the door rang off, signaling another soul crossing the threshhold. As a little sigh escaped from his lips, the newcomer stepped forward to make a request of the band. Before they started, this person's hand tapped their leader's music stand. Conferring quickly with Bonejangles, he relayed the change in instrumentation to his boys. Braking off a set of ribs from Martin, one of his bandmates, the skeleton piped up the fluted trill to start the song properly this time. A slow yet airy accented voice cut cleanly and charmingly through the club, filling all who heard with a well-needed sense of inner warmth.
"This looks familiar.
Vaguely familiar.
Almost unreal, yet.
It's too soon to feel, yet.
Close to my soul, yet so far away.
I'm going to go back there someday."
Ray plunked the coffin-framed upfright piano's keys softly in time to the melody, creating just the right echo backing the singer.
"Sun rises, night falls.
Sometimes the sky calls.
Is that a song there?
And do I belong there?
I've never been there, but I know the way.
I'm going to go back there someday."
Chauncey expertly followed his fellow musicians, the rhythm of the tendons strung on his legbone guitar adding to the richness of the melody. The band swelled to full volume as the third verse began.
"Come and go with me, it's more fun to share.
We'll both be completely at home in midair.
We're flying not walking on featherless wings.
We can hold on to love like invisible strings."
The band trilled in the form of a featured solo medly as it descended for the singer to finish the last verse of the famous song.
"There's not a word yet.
For old friends who've just met.
Part heaven and part space.
Have I found my place?
You can just visit, but I plan to stay.
I'm going to go back there someday.
I'm going to go back there someday."
With each line that was sung, Ed's smile broadened as he parsed their meanings in his mind. The song ended and it left him feeling sufficiently melted. Imagine his shock when a pair of petal-soft hands clung tightly over his shaded eyes, calling "Guess boo?" sweetly in his ear. "Cassandra Peterson?" was his first reply. "Close, but no sir," she answered back, turning him half around in the booth's seats so they could greet each other with admirable affection. His hand went protectively around her waist, her head falling gently onto his shoulder. "Miss me?" she asked, happy to be in his embrace once again. "Desperately, yes," he said with a note of satisfaction in his tone. "Good, that means you have to kiss me," she teased. "If I have too…," he murmured, suiting word to action. Lingering a few minutes longer waiting for the various diners to finish their meal wouldn't be so tedious now that Autumn had decided to show up for a spell, brightening up his winter boos.
----------------
Evening in the city, ah, think of it. Hensonville could be a bustling metropolis of Muppets and suburbanites, but it was stil home to all. Sure, there was slushed snow on the sidewalks you had to avoid. Sure, the breeze blowing outdoors made you want to bundle up. But these were the trappings of living in the heart of Hensonville.
The streetlamps had turned on, beacons glowing to guide the weary wanderer. And if you knew where you were going, chances were you'd end up at the famed club named the Bat, Bolt & Skull. The staff had changed since opening its doors. Andre Monster, acting host would greet you at the door, asking you to please wait at the bar. You might be inclined to have a bit of chitchat with the Masked Phantom before ordering something to drink from the female bartender. Because there was a bit of a crowd, they needed extra waiters, namely the Batley Triplets. Any one of the three of them was perfectly capable of leading you to an open table. They'd take your order and relay it to the kitchen cooks. Both Mrs. Plum and her brother Boris worked hard on getting the meal prepared to the client's particular tastes. Good thing the bats had been trained by Yolanda before she had left a year ago to pursue her passion for cinematic production as she worked with Kermit and the crew on their latest movie.
Seated in his usual corner booth, Ed was perusing the list of acts the club had managed to line up for the coming months. Bonejangles and the Bone Boys provided regular performances, but it was nice to attract the big names from time to time. The club had set aside a spot in the spring for Grisha, Misha and Sasha—apparently they wanted to give the patrons a different kind of treat, swapping their BBS uniforms for songbat dresses—, secured a gig by the Indie Vittles during their US tour in the summer, and oh--surprise! The Vile Bunch for a full week in October. Pushing down the laptop's screen for a while, Ed's thoughts began to drift. He started to remember what these past holidays had been like.
Thinking of the holidays made him think of someone in particular, how they'd not seen each other since they returned to their respective professional commitments, whatever they happened to be. Mysterious as ever, Ed could only grin at the memory. He started to hum a little, a familiar tune coming to mind as he sang.
"I'll have a boo Cryptmas without you," his voice rang out, low, though it did perk up the band to start to follow.
"I'll be so boo just thinking about you.
Decorations of dread, on a green Cryptmas tree.
Will mean nothing, little Darklin', if you're not here with me."
His impersonation picked up again for the second verse.
"And when those boo heartaches start hurting.
I'll be so boo without you, that's for certain."
Lightening just a touch, he continued with the ending refrain.
"You'll be doing all fright, with your Cryptmas of white.
But I'll have a boo, boo Cryptmas."
The song faded and the chime above the door rang off, signaling another soul crossing the threshhold. As a little sigh escaped from his lips, the newcomer stepped forward to make a request of the band. Before they started, this person's hand tapped their leader's music stand. Conferring quickly with Bonejangles, he relayed the change in instrumentation to his boys. Braking off a set of ribs from Martin, one of his bandmates, the skeleton piped up the fluted trill to start the song properly this time. A slow yet airy accented voice cut cleanly and charmingly through the club, filling all who heard with a well-needed sense of inner warmth.
"This looks familiar.
Vaguely familiar.
Almost unreal, yet.
It's too soon to feel, yet.
Close to my soul, yet so far away.
I'm going to go back there someday."
Ray plunked the coffin-framed upfright piano's keys softly in time to the melody, creating just the right echo backing the singer.
"Sun rises, night falls.
Sometimes the sky calls.
Is that a song there?
And do I belong there?
I've never been there, but I know the way.
I'm going to go back there someday."
Chauncey expertly followed his fellow musicians, the rhythm of the tendons strung on his legbone guitar adding to the richness of the melody. The band swelled to full volume as the third verse began.
"Come and go with me, it's more fun to share.
We'll both be completely at home in midair.
We're flying not walking on featherless wings.
We can hold on to love like invisible strings."
The band trilled in the form of a featured solo medly as it descended for the singer to finish the last verse of the famous song.
"There's not a word yet.
For old friends who've just met.
Part heaven and part space.
Have I found my place?
You can just visit, but I plan to stay.
I'm going to go back there someday.
I'm going to go back there someday."
With each line that was sung, Ed's smile broadened as he parsed their meanings in his mind. The song ended and it left him feeling sufficiently melted. Imagine his shock when a pair of petal-soft hands clung tightly over his shaded eyes, calling "Guess boo?" sweetly in his ear. "Cassandra Peterson?" was his first reply. "Close, but no sir," she answered back, turning him half around in the booth's seats so they could greet each other with admirable affection. His hand went protectively around her waist, her head falling gently onto his shoulder. "Miss me?" she asked, happy to be in his embrace once again. "Desperately, yes," he said with a note of satisfaction in his tone. "Good, that means you have to kiss me," she teased. "If I have too…," he murmured, suiting word to action. Lingering a few minutes longer waiting for the various diners to finish their meal wouldn't be so tedious now that Autumn had decided to show up for a spell, brightening up his winter boos.
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