Chapter twelve
Kermit mostly stayed in his room for the next few days. He made a point of leaving his door open and coming down for meals. He tried to react to everything the way he usually would, but his heart wasn’t in it. He mostly just wanted to be by himself. He was getting more and more depressed every day, and he couldn’t seem to fight it.
Meanwhile the Muppets worked around him. They rehearsed for
Under the Weeping Willow on the front porch. They came up with things to talk to Kermit about, so it wouldn’t seem like they were ignoring him. But mostly, they gave all they could to raise money.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sam the American Eagle stood stiff as a board.
It’s the American way, he thought to himself.
It’s hard work. It’s putting sweat and good hard work towards the American Dream. At least that’s what he was trying to make himself believe. But still, he couldn’t believe he had been dragged into this.
He was standing at the corner of a gas station parking lot, holding a sign that read “Car Wash: $5.”
Behind him was a group of filthy cars. Each car was surrounded by rags, hoses, and buckets of water. A group of penguins was washing one of them, throwing each other into the air as they sang.
“
Working at the car wash!”
Gonzo scrubbed the wheels of another car, and sang along. “
At the car wash, yeah.”
Clifford sang a line with them as he finished drying a car off. “
Working at the car wash- Ohhhh, yeah!” He approached the driver, who handed him a five-dollar bill. “Thanks, man!” Clifford said, and he strolled over to where Scooter was sitting with a cash box.
“We’re doing really well,” Scooter said. “Sure are a lot of dirty cars.”
Clifford smiled. “Well, we had a little help with that,” he said.
Less than a mile away, the Electric Mayhem stood on the side of the road.
“Looks like it’s starting to wear off again,” Dr. Teeth said.
“Yeah,” Floyd said, “Let’s put some more on now, while there’s not much traffic.”
“TRAFFIC! TRAFFIC!” Animal shouted.
Janice grabbed a bucket of dirt and swung it, scattering the dirt across the road. Zoot and Floyd did the same with a bucket of water each. Then they all scampered several feet away from the road as an unsuspecting car came flying through the freshly made mud puddle. It was instantly filthy.
“Like, five points fer us, rully,” Janice said.
“Yeah baby,” Floyd said, “They need a car wash.”
“CAR WASH! CAR WASH!” Animal shouted.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Fozzie and the Swedish Chef stood out in front of the post office. They had a folding table with a white tablecloth, covered with dishes of pies, cakes, and cookies. In front of the table was a cardboard sign that read “BAKE SALE” and gave the prices for each item.
“Beke-a sele-a! Beke-a sele-a! Get yuoor fresh-beked peees, cekes, und cuukeees!” the chef shouted to passers-by.
“I don’t know, Chef,” Fozzie said. “Nobody’s bought anything for almost an hour.”
“Peees, cekes, und cuukeees!” Chef shouted.
“Yeah, Bake sale!” Fozzie called out. “Get your fresh baked pies, cakes, and cookies!”
“COOOOKIES!” someone shouted. A fuzzy and blue monster appeared out of nowhere, ate the cookies, at the cakes, ate the pies, ate the dishes, ate the table-cloth, ate the table, ate the sign, and wiped his mouth. “Thank you,” he said.
A mostly bald man with a beard and mustache was close behind the monster, shaking his head and stifling a laugh. He took a few hundred-dollar bills out of his wallet and handed them to Fozzie.
“Sorry ‘bout the table and dishes,” he said.
The monster tugged at the man’s pants. “Frank, you got cookies?”
“No, I don’t have any cookies,” the man said. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Me want cookies, Frank!” the monster said as they walked away.
Fozzie turned to the chef. “Does that guy look familiar?” he asked.
“Vhu? Zee munster?” the chef asked.
“No, the bald guy,” Fozzie said. “Doesn’t he look familiar?”
The chef shrugged. “Meybe-a a leetle-a beet,” he said.
“He looks
really familiar,” Fozzie said.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Yorick sighed as he sat on Gonzo’s foot. Gonzo’s ankles were crossed and his arms were casually folded across his chest. He was standing on his head, precariously balanced on an empty beer bottle. Rizzo stood next to the empty can they were hoping people would put money in.
“The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks...” Gonzo called out as he continued his recitation of Hamlet’s Soliloquy.
Two men came down the street, laughing with each other. They stopped when they saw the rat and the... um... whatever.
The first man had brown hair, with a brown beard and mustache, and he was wearing glasses. “Hey Steve,” he said, “Think we should give ‘em something?”
The other man, Steve, had long blonde hair, and just a hint of a beard. “Yeah, we should, Dave,” he said. “That rat looks pretty hungry.”
“Well I was more thinking the blue guy’s going to have some big doctor’s bills if that bottle breaks,” Dave said.
“Whatever,” Steve said. They each bent over and put some money in the can and started to walk away. “How much did you give?” Steve asked.
“Five bucks,” Dave said. “You?”
“Twenty,” Steve said.
Dave gave him a funny look. “Twenty? How much do you have left?”
Steve hesitated. “Three.”
Dave stopped walking. “And what are you going to buy your lunch with?”
It was clear from the look on Steve’s face that he hadn’t thought of that.
Dave shook his head. “You are
such an idiot,” he said, and they walked on.
“Hey Gonzo,” Rizzo said, “Do those guys look familiar to you?”
“Rizzo!” Gonzo said, “You made me lose my place! Now I have to start over.” He cleared his throat. “To be, or not to be: that is the question...”
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