Summer In The Theater

[Beauregard]

I am fighting tears her, Lisa. Really, I am. That writing of the note...was....and the dream sequence...and, wow, the writign of the note made me choke up badly.

As for the references, there are simply hundreds of references through this whoel story to my rainbow story. Yey!

But especially in the dream. about the rainbow, no it wasn't, it was black and grey, it was fading...yup. That was it.

Anyway, I can't believe I keep forgetting to veiw this thread, when it is one of the best Fan-Fics I have read!

The Carwashing! *dances*

The card with the rainbow on it. The Reference to Disnney and Henson refusing to read the stories written by fans! The Jaccuzi. The Frog walked into a bank! Tehe! The MUPPETEERS! Oh my gosh! So great!

The...everything...

Waiting now for more!

 

[TogetherAgain]

<runs in panting> I'M HERE! Wow. I go away for a week, and suddenly this story's on page two of the forum. Sheesh! Alright, where were we... ooh, I left you guys in quite the hard spot, didn't I? Well, then, let's get past it already! A little bit of serious, a little bit of comedy, a lot of me procrastinating with my homework...

 

[TogetherAgain]

Chapter fourteen

Miss Piggy had intended to come down for breakfast. But when she found a note under her door, and she read the note, she knew she wouldn’t be able to.

Foo Foo stretched, climbed out of her doggy bed, and jumped onto the vanity, where Miss Piggy was sitting. Miss Piggy smiled a little at the dog.

“Oh, Foo Foo,” she said. “Whatever shall moi do about your Da Da?”

“Ruff!” Foo Foo said. She pushed Miss Piggy’s stationary set into the middle of the vanity. “Arf!”

Miss Piggy smiled a little more. “What a splendid idea, Foo Foo!” She picked up her pen. “If Kermie can leave moi a note, moi can leave him a note!” She put her pen to her paper, hesitated, and turned to Foo Foo. “But... what shall moi write?”

Foo Foo didn’t seem to know.

There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” Miss Piggy shouted angrily.

“It’s Scooter!”

“Scooter?” She got up and opened the door a crack.

“Don’t you want your breakfast?” Scooter asked.

“Well, Scooter... um...” Then she saw that he was holding a tray of food for her. She took it from him. “Thank you, Scooter,” she said with a smile, and she closed the door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

That afternoon, Robin carried another tray of food up to Kermit’s room and knocked on the door.

Kermit had been sitting on his bed. He got up, knowing it was probably Robin, and went to let his nephew in. But he noticed something. He bent down and picked up a note that someone had slid under his door. It smelled like Miss Piggy’s perfume. He looked at it curiously, and opened the door.

Robin came in. “I brought you some lunch, Uncle Kermit!” he said.

Kermit nodded and closed the door. They sat on his bed, and Kermit set the note on his nightstand before taking the tray of food.

“What’s that?” Robin asked when he saw the note.

Kermit just shook his head and started to eat. Robin tried to make a little conversation, but no matter what he talked about, Kermit would just nod or shake his head. By the time his uncle finished eating, Robin felt like he was just talking to a tombstone. He sighed as he took the tray from his uncle’s lap. “Uncle Kermit?” he said. Kermit looked at him. Robin shook his head. “Never mind,” he said, and he headed to the door.

Kermit got up and quickly followed him, kneeling down in front of his nephew. “Robin?” he said.

Robin looked up. It was the first time he had heard his uncle’s voice since the fight. “Yes, Uncle Kermit?”

There was absolutely no emotion in Kermit’s face or voice. “Thank you,” he said.

Robin put the tray down and hugged his uncle. “You’re welcome, Uncle Kermit,” he said.

Kermit gently pushed his nephew away. Robin picked up the tray and hurried away, holding back tears. Kermit closed the door, sat on his bed, and read the note.

Dearest Kermie,
I’m sorry, too.
Kissy kissy, Miss Piggy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Kermit did not leave his room again, except to go to the bathroom, and then only when almost no one was around. Robin brought him all his meals, trying all the time to get him to talk, at least a little. But Kermit never spoke a word.

Miss Piggy was always at the table for meals, and she continued to rehearse on the front porch and collect money with the others. But conversations with her were very strained, and usually forced.

And all the while, tension in the Muppet Boarding House was running high. Everyone was worried about Kermit, the show, and the theater. But mostly about Kermit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

“Lemonade!” the frog scouts shouted. “Twenty-five cents! Lemonade!”

“Excuse me, sir!” Robin said. “Would you like to buy some lemonade?”

The balding man was in his early seventies, with a gray beard and mustache. He was in a hurry, but it was hot outside, and the lemonade was cold... well, he could be a little late. He handed Robin a quarter and took a cup of lemonade.

“Thank you!” Robin called after the man.

“You’re welcome!” the man called over his shoulder as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Hello, Jim? It’s Jerry. I’ll be a little late...”

Robin watched the man, curious, and turned to one of the other scouts. “Hey Norman,” he said, “Did that guy look familiar to you?”

Norman thought about it. “No, not really,” he said. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Robin said. “He looks kind of familiar to me.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

The casually dressed young man with shaggy brown hair carefully examined the ring, holding up to various lights and looking through all sorts of lenses. Miss Piggy tapped her foot impatiently and read his nametag. “Eric,” was it? Well, she had already given this “Eric” a piece of paper certifying that the turquoise was real. Wasn’t that good enough?

“Well miss,” Eric said, “This is quite the ring you have here. Are you sure you want to sell it?”

“Of course,” Miss Piggy said. “It’s hideous. My mother gave it to me. Moi have been looking for a way to get rid of it for years. Besides, would moi even be here if moi wanted to keep it?”

Eric smiled. “True,” he said. “Alright, I can give you $800 for it.”

“A thousand,” Miss Piggy said.

“Eight fifty,” he said.

“Nine fifty,” she said.

“Nine hundred,” he said.

“Deal,” she said.

He handed her the money and she left the store, wondering why Eric almost looked a little familiar.

 

[theprawncracker]

OH!!! That was good! I loved it! Poor Robin...

Loved the muppeteer references as well!

 

[redBoobergurl]

Yea! I'm so glad you're back to posting your wonderful story now that you are home! This was a great chapter, but I wanted to cry when Kermit pushed Robin away! Clever references, I love it! Want more!

 

[Beauregard]

It's so cute how you keep bring in the Muppeteers. Yeah, and, this story is really good. They are all pulling together, and Kermit....Kermit's really not helping, which is unlike him. He eeeds some serious help I think.

 

[Skeeter Muppet]

All right...someone needs to whack Kermit over the head, either literally or figuratively, and tell him in no uncertain terms to snap the [CENSORED] out of it already, and to get help to do so if necessary.

As for the continued Muppeteer cameos, they're still great.

...you know what I'm going to ask, so why am I even saying anything?

-Kim

 

[Beauregard]

Maybe Fozzie should grab that little green frog's body and yell, "Kermit come back to uuuuuus!" ala MTM.

 

[TogetherAgain]

Relax, Kermit's coming back to his senses... eventually... um, but first, uh, some other stuff... yeah... I love being obscure.

And, Kim, let me guess, you're wondering where Richard is. Right? Alright, let me see if I can't squeeze him in... Hm, I could do that, and put him there, and then that would help with... but then would that... huh... I'll figure it out, no worries. In the mean time, I have a lot of that homework stuff again... grr...

 

[TogetherAgain]

Chapter fifteen

As the week crawled on, tensions grew higher and higher. The Muppets started to snap at each other. They continued to rehearse on the front porch and to raise money, but they were falling apart. Meals especially were getting pretty hard to bear.

Rowlf lay in his bed Friday night, dreading the next day. They usually performed on Saturday nights, but the police were still investigating. If they didn’t finish soon, Under the Weeping Willow would be difficult at best to pull off. Of course, they’d been practicing on the porch, but there was nothing like the real stage.

Rowlf rolled over in his bed. Of course Kermit wasn’t helping. With the exception of Robin bringing his meals, no one had even seen Kermit since the fight. Even if they got back in the theater, Rowlf wasn’t sure if Kermit would be able to handle it. Maybe someone oughta try to cheer him up, before the letter. When was Kermit going to get all this money they were raising? That was sure to bring him back.

But since when did Kermit need money to be happy? He’d always been a happy kind of guy; he cared about things like family, rainbow connections, and making millions of people happy. Why was money getting him down? Maybe there was something else. If only they knew what it was. Well, he’d try to talk to Robin about it at breakfast. If there were any clues behind Kermit’s door, Robin was sure to catch them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

“That is completely UN-American,” Sam lectured. “I have never seen anything so DISGRACEFUL-“

“Keep your feathers in, Sam,” Rowlf said as he reached for the syrup.

There was an explosion in the kitchen.

“Aw, man!” Clifford said. “Don’t tell me the oven’s broke again.”

“That’s all we need,” Rizzo said. “Kermit’s locked himself in his room, we need money, we can’t get in the theater, and worst of all, we’re out of cheese!”

“Oh Rizzo, quit complaining!” Gonzo said, smearing a little jelly on his toast.

“Like, Gonzo, you don’t have to yell,” Janice said.

“Oh, yeah?” Gonzo said.

“Hey, leave her alone, man,” Floyd said.

“Hey Scooter,” Pepe said, “When is Kermin getting de monies, okay?”

“With the rest of the mail, when we get back in the theater,” Scooter said.

“Uh, Scooter,” Bobo said, “Supposing we don’t get in the theater...”

“We will,” Miss Piggy said. “We have to.”

“But, we might not,” Dr. Strangepork said.

“Yeah, the police are still investigating,” Lew Zealand said.

“Lew’s right, we can’t get in until they’re done,” Pops said. “Who knows how long they need to take.”

“Well, they can’t investigate forever,” Dr. Bunsen Honeydew said.

“Mee mee,” Beaker agreed.

“Hey Bunsen,” Johnny Fiama said, “What’s taking so long? Pass the butter!”

“If Johnny Fiama tells you to pass the butter, you’d better pass it!” Sal said.

“You know,” Link Hogthrob said, “Maybe we should just give up.”

“You lard-brain!” Miss Piggy shouted. “We didn’t get all this money just to give up!”

And then everyone was shouting. Robin looked at the chaos around him, wishing his uncle was there. Uncle Kermit would make everything better. But everything was so backwards. Uncle Kermit was almost making things worse.

Fozzie knew they were out of control. Some one had to put a foot down. But Kermit wasn’t there. “HOLD IIIIIT!” he shouted. Almost everyone stopped talking.

“And I said look buddy, I don’t care how much you’ll pay me, I don’t pose naked for ANY camera...” Janice realized the entire breakfast table was staring at her. “Oh.”

“Come on, everybody,” Fozzie said. “We can’t fall apart now. We have to stick together! I know it’s hard. But we can pull through this! We have one week before opening night. I know we don’t have the theater back yet, but... I think we can make this our best show ever! We have to. For Kermit.”

“Well said, Fozzie,” Rowlf said.

Sam stood up. “Ladies and gentlemen, that is the true American spirit.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Pepe said. “Let’s get to work, hokay!”

Clifford got up and started clearing plates. “Sooner the better, guys, let’s go!”

“Let’s do a full run-through on the front porch,” Scooter said.

“Good idea,” Dr. Teeth said.

“Fer sure,” Janice said.

“Don’t put all the food away yet,” Robin said. “I need to bring some to Uncle Kermit!”

“Lemme help you with the tray, Robin,” Rowlf said.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Not long after they took a break for lunch, Scooter found himself dragging a large suitcase into a bank. Fortunately, it wasn’t very busy. He walked right up to a teller.

“Hello!” the teller said. “How may I help you?” He had short, dark, curly hair and brown eyes, and he looked younger than he probably was. Somehow Scooter thought he looked familiar.

“Hi,” Scooter said. “I’ve got this suitcase full of money here, and I’d like to change it all in for hundred-dollar bills.”

“Alright, I can do that for you,” the teller said. “Just toss it on up here.” He tapped on the counter.

Scooter looked at the teller, at the suitcase, and at the teller again. “Well, uh... okay...” He grabbed the suitcase, took a deep breath, and groaned a little as he tried to lift it.

“Do you need some help?” the teller asked.

“Uh, no, I got it,” Scooter said. He took another deep breath, lifted the suitcase, and threw it at the counter.

He missed. The suitcase went flying into the teller, knocking him onto his back.

“Oops,” Scooter said. He peered over the counter. “Are you okay, sir?”

The teller pushed the suitcase off of him, grabbed the counter, and groggily pulled himself to his feet. “I’m... fine...” he fell back to the ground.

Scooter looked at him, nervous. He wasn’t moving at all, and he looked like he was unconscious. “Uh... um...” Scooter didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly the teller’s eyes flicked open and he smiled up at the go-fer. “Pretty good acting, huh?” he said. Scooter laughed.

“RICHARD!” a man bellowed.

The teller was instantly on his feet, standing as stiff and straight as an arrow. “Yes, sir,” he said.

The mostly bald man had a little bit of white hair, and he was wearing an uncomfortable looking suit. “Richard, what on earth were you doing on the floor?” he asked as he walked over to the teller.

Richard looked nervous. “Well, uh, Mr. Juhl, I was... uh...”

Mr. Juhl brushed the dirt off of Richard’s shirt. “Just do us a favor and don’t tell your uncle about this,” he said. “Our luck, he’d shut us down for it. Now what’s the trouble?”

Richard looked a little relieved. “This guy wants all the money in this suitcase exchanged for hundred-dollar bills,” he said, indicating Scooter.

“Well, then, take care of it, Richard,” Mr. Juhl said, and he walked away.

“Yes sir,” Richard said. He turned to Scooter. “Sorry about that, sir,” he said. He lowered his voice a little. “Sometimes it’s not easy being the bank owner’s nephew.”

Scooter smiled and said, “I think I know exactly what you mean.”