That's Some Pig (Get a Room)

[Ruahnna]

(Sorry to stage-direct, but you HAVE to know: Piggy and Kermit are long-time married now; Piggy's on Broadway, starring in "Grease"; Kermit and Fozzie, Gonzo, Rizzo and Pepe were traveling on movie-related business and got unexpectedly held over in New York, where the airline put them all up--and Piggy happily joins her frog.)

Gonzo came up and stood at Kermit’s elbow. Surfacing with reluctance and some difficulty from Piggy’s kiss, Kermit looked at him.
“Yes, Gonzo?”
“On behalf of all us single guys in the room,” Gonzo said levelly, “we would like to ask you two to kindly get a room!”
Kermit looked at him in silence for a moment. “And on behalf of the frog and the pig, I would like to tell you guys—I’ve got one—and you’re all in it!” They glared at each other for a moment, each frustrated by the other, then Miss Piggy delicately extricated herself from Kermit’s embrace and stood, brushing her hair back from her face.
“Gonzo’s right,” Piggy said graciously.
“He is?”
“I am?”
Piggy turned limpid eyes on Kermit and ran her hand lightly over his neck. “It would be wonderful just to sit here with mon capitan, but Moi is capable of being a better hostess.” She stood up and stretched luxuriously, making Kermit and Gonzo glare at each other, then sashayed over to the phone. Within minutes, she was deep in conversation with a local eatery, and Kermit gave up hoping for her to return to his lap and his arms. He sighed and stood up, wandering through the sitting area and picking up papers, soda cans and the other detritus “the boys”—as Piggy so euphemistically called them—had left. He was on the verge of saying something unkind about all the clothing strewn about the room when Piggy came past him toward the bathroom, carrying an armful of clothes.
“I am going to slip into something a little more festive,” she said enigmatically, and disappeared into the bathroom.
If you can’t be quick, be worth waiting for! was a mantra that Piggy had tried to live by. She reemerged in a leather skirt and a short cropped angora sweater, her hair tied up becomingly in a scarf. High-heeled black leather calf boots completed the look. Kermit was on the verge of saying sometime about her transformation when there was a knock on the door. Being closest, he back up slowly, eyes still lingering on Piggy’s silhouette, and had the door half-open before turning. He almost had to duck to avoid being trampled by a herd of caterers.
“Piggy—what’s going on?” Kermit began, jumping back to avoid being trampled by Rizzo and Pepe.
“Hey—food!” Rizzo cried.
“Okay, but, like, there had better not be a shrimp platter, okay?” Pepe added.
“What’s all this?” Kermit said, but there was another knock on the door.
“Entre vous,” Piggy called, taking Kermit’s arm and sweeping him toward the door. At least fifty people seemed to serge into the hotel suite, all of them laughing and exchanging “kissy-kissy” faces with Piggy as they swept by.
“Piggy honey,” Kermit said, twisting to avoid a white-jacketed waiter. “Who are all these people?”
“Why Kermit, don’t you remember Stacy, kissy-kissy, and Kristen, kissy-kissy darling—those shoes are to die for. And Darcy and Trudy—kissy-kissy girls. Love the lip gloss.” Kermit found himself hugged and bussed by dozens of strangers, and could have sworn that someone patted him approvingly on the bum. He whirled around, trying to stay close to Piggy as she floated through the room, making introductions and directing white-coated servers with hors d’oerves toward the crowd in the sitting area. In a split second, she disappeared. “Piggy?”
Someone backed into him and he jumped, turning to find Fozzie behind him, wide-eyed with nervousness. “Kermit,” he began, “who are all of these people in our room.”
“Some of them are from Piggy’s show,” Kermit said with more certainty than he felt. “And some of them…are just here for the food, I think.” He watched a very odd-looking mime start toward the mini-bar, juggling stuffed mushrooms. Piggy chose that moment to reappear. She smiled around with satisfaction, tucking her arm through Kermit’s and leaning over to plant a kiss on top of his head, then stiffened and let out a little squeal of excitement and darted toward the door. She came back moments later with a short, barrel-chested gentleman in tow and stopped and made introductions.
“This is Lew Beasley,” she said to Kermit. “And this is Mon Capitan, Kermit the Frog.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Same, I’m sure.”
“And this—“ Piggy said, turning on Fozzie so suddenly that he ducked and grabbed his hat. “This is a long-time family friend and the comedian of our little theatre, Mr. Fozzie Bear.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Fozzie said weakly, using the best company manners his Ma had taught him.
To his surprise, Beasley reached and embraced him, one thick arm around his shoulders. “Don’t ‘sir’ me,” he said with a hearty laugh. “You used to work with my dad, God rest his soul!”
“I-I did?”
“Sure—my dad wrote standup gags back in the day. You used to use some of his stuff on your television show.”
Fozzie eyes widened in wonder. “Your dad is--?”
“That’s right—Gags Beasley.” Lew reached out and put a familiar hand around Piggy’s middle. Kermit looked at it with dislike, but Piggy seemed nonplussed. “This little lady and I started chewing the fat one day and found out we had tons of mutuals. Small world, ain’t it?”
“Well it certainly seems to be crowded,” Kermit muttered, still staring at the beefy arm around his wife’s waist.
“Don’t want to be rude, doll, Mr. Frog, but I’ve been dying to talk to this character.” He steered Fozzie toward the bar. “Come on—I’ll buy you a seltzer water.” They burst into loud guffaws, moving away.
Kermit stepped forward and put both his arms around Piggy, looking around the room. Pepe and Rizzo were holding court on one of the love seats, surrounded by Piggy’s co-stars, and people were enjoying food and drink, loud music and shouted conversations. Everyone seemed content except…except Gonzo. Kermit watched Gonzo politely excuse himself from a scantily clad woman and wander through the crowd absently. Once, he stopped to watch the mime, then moved on, a solitary figure even in a crowd like this.
Kermit turned to say something to Piggy, but she put a finger to her lips and jerked her head toward the door. There was a small wave of moment coming toward them, close to the floor, and Kermit turned to look about the same time the crowd parted. Resplendent in a blue satin cape, shaking a little snow from her face, was Camilla the chicken. She planted her feet on the floor and made a low clucking sound of endearment.
Gonzo whirled, his face alight with surprise and pleasure.
“Wow,” he said. “Wow, Camilla—look at you!” He stepped forward slowly, like a man not sure of what he sees. Camilla took his face in her wings and leaned forward, but instead of the two kissy-kissy pecks Gonzo obviously expected, Camilla kissed him soundly on the lips. The effect, thought Piggy, was satisfactory stuptifying, and it took Gonzo a moment to recover. He put his arms around her and whispered something in her ear. Camilla made a sound like a giggle and let Gonzo lead her out onto the crowded dance floor.
Watching them, Kermit made a small sound of satisfaction and enclosed Piggy in his arms, joining the other dancers.
“This is nice,” he said contentedly, snuggling up against her.
“Um, Kermit….” Piggy began. “Could you come with me for a teensy-weensy moment? There is something I want to do.”
“Sure, Sweetheart,” Kermit said, following her obediently. Piggy stopped in front of the coat closet, looked swiftly up and down the hallway, then stepped inside and pulled Kermit in with her.
“Wha—“ Kermit began, but Piggy proceeded, with a skill born of much practice, to enthusiastically kiss the stuffing out of her husband. Though taken by surprise, years of working in the muppet Theatre had made Kermit a master of adapting to the unexpected. The next few moments found them blissfully lip-locked, arms clasped tightly around each other while the party went unheeded outside their little closet. All too soon, with a few lingering giggles and smooches, they pulled apart reluctantly and smiled at each other in the dimness.
“Better now?” Piggy said archly, smoothing his collar over his neck frill.
Kermit gave her a look—half stern, half amused—and pulled her back to him for one final kiss. “Yes,” he admitted. “Much better now.”
“Then we had better see to our guests.”
She took his hand firmly, drawing him out into the noise after a quick look to make sure they were unobserved.
“Piggy?” Kermit’s voice made her stop and turn back to look at him.
“Yes, mon capitan?”
“Love you,” he said simply. Piggy preened.
“Of course,” Piggy teased. “But save it for later. Right now, Moi is a hostess, and nobody—nobody--gives a party like Moi.”

Piggy and Kermit were just seeing the Crustacean Ambassador out the door when Rizzo and Stacy seemed to materialize right in front of them.
“Hey Kermit,” Rizzo said. “Hey, Miss Piggy. What a swell party!”
“Glad you’re enjoying it, Rizzo,” Kermit said, his arm settled comfortably around Piggy’s waist. “I think the band is getting up for another set.”
Rizzo and Stacy exchanged looks and smiles. “Uh—we’re thinking of going out for a cup of coffee,” Rizzo said.
“Now?” Kermit asked. “It’s almost—“
“That little coffee place we all went to, Piggy,” Stacy interrupted quickly. “You know—the one with the great jazz band and the guy that does that weird stand-up poetry?”
“Sounds interesting,” Kermit began, but Piggy gave him a fond, knowing look and he subsided sheepishly.
“Too weird. Weird weird,” Piggy explained, “But the coffee is good.”
“Great. Uh—have you guys seen Gonzo? I want to tell him that I’m going but I can’t find him.”
“He’s with Camilla,” Kermit began, looking around the suite at knee level.
“Yeah, I know,” Rizzo said, looking puzzled. “I can’t think where they could have gotten to.”
Involuntarily, Kermit’s eyes strayed to the small coat closet, and he could feel himself blush. “C’mon,” he said hastily, to hide his unease. “I’ll help you look.” He steered Rizzo purposefully in the opposite direction.
After the men were gone, Piggy gave Stacy “the look.”
“Boy—you sure know how to pick ‘em,” Piggy said with exasperation. Stacy burst into giggles.
“I know, I know,” she said, holding her hands out to ward off any advice. “But the last guy I went out with turned out to be a rat. Why can’t I just start with one?”
Piggy smiled and embraced her friend. “Pinks practice tomorrow at 11:00,” she reminded. “New choreography.”
“I know—I won’t be late,” Stacy promised. Rizzo appeared at her elbow and she smiled down at him.
“When you see him, just tell him I’ve got my key,” Rizzo said. “He doesn’t have to wait up for me.” He turned and held out the crook of his arm to Kristen. Giggling, she hooked her little finger through it and they walked out into the night.

“Alone at last,” Kermit said, much later, when the last of the caterers had taken the tools of their trade and gone home.
“Almost,” Piggy said ruefully. She surveyed Fozzie’s sleeping form sprawled on the recliner, snoring softly, and covered him with a light blanket. “I think Fozzie had a good time.”
“Who, him?” Kermit said with a laugh. “Are you kidding?” Some time well past midnight had found Lew and Fozzie feeding each other straight line after straight line, wearing the matching shades from the two end-table lamps and breaking occasionally into bouts of incomprehensible laughter. Once or twice, Kermit has surreptitiously checked Fozzie’s glass, but found nothing stronger than ginger ale or seltzer water. Bolstered by the unprecedented success of his tag-team comedy with Lew, Fozzie had just been high on life. Kermit smiled. “He’ll probably be out until spring.”
He turned to Piggy slowly and pulled her to him. Piggy giggled, a little giddy from all the excitement, and let out a long slow sigh as Kermit folded her firmly into his arms.
“So, hostess-with-the-mostess,” he teased. “Wanna see some of my etchings?”
Piggy sighed, letting her hands slip inside the open collar of his shirt to stroke the sensitive skin beneath his neck frill.
“Maybe. These etching—they any good?”
“Some people think so. Come see for yourself.”
“I can be very picky.”
“You’re telling me,” Kermit muttered, just to get a rise out of her, then gasped as Piggy planted a no-nonsense smooth on his lips. “Piggy—“ he murmured, and that was all he managed to say for some time.

The doorman at the hotel was quick on his feet. This was a good thing, as it kept him from being successively run down.
Rizzo got out of a battered yellow cab first. Stacy got out with him and they stood in the sunlight, smiling shyly at each other. “You’ll call me, won’t you?” Stacy whispered, reaching out to fold back Rizzo’s lapel.
“Are you kidding?” Rizzo said emphatically. “Every day—promise.” He pulled out his cell phone and tapped in her number for emphasis, but his gallant gesture was caught short as Stacy leaned forward and kissed him soundly.
“I have to go,” Stacy said at last, sighing. She got back into the taxi, rolled down the window and waved until the taxi was lost from sight. Rizzo sighed too, finishing the input of her phone number, and was standing there with a dreamy smile on his face when a checkered cab landed one threadbare wheel on the sidewalk, making him and the doorman jump back. Gonzo emerged, trying to tuck his rumpled shirt into his somewhat rumpled pants, and pulled up short at the sight of Rizzo.
“What?” Gonzo asked, cheeks coloring a little. Rizzo reached out and plucked a couple of feathers from Gonzo’s hair without comment.
“Have a nice time with your chicken?”
Gonzo smiled at his room-mate sheepishly. “Yeah. I had a super time.” He gave Rizzo a look. “Where did you go? We ducked out a little early, and I couldn’t find you to tell you I was going to, um, be gone, um, a while….”
“Remember Stacy?”
“The one with the great shoes?”
“No—that’s Kristen. Kristen has a steady boyfriend.”
Gonzo smiled and nudged Rizzo in the ribs. “So I take it Stacy doesn’t have a steady boyfriend?”
“She does now!” Rizzo announced triumphantly. “I told her I’d call her so we could—“
For the third time, the doorman took his life into his hands trying to open the door of a cab as it careened toward the double doors of the hotel. He jumped back, giving it up as a bad job, as the door burst open and Pepe emerged humming a salsa tune. He pulled up short and looked at Rizzo and Gonzo.
“What’s the matter with you? You’ve never seen a King Prawn arrive in style?”
It was true. While Rizzo and Gonzo had the look of yesterday’s clothes, Pepe was as crisply turned out as a new dollar bill. His jacket was impeccable, and his shoes gleamed with polish.
“Where have you been?” Gonzo asked.
“Clubbing,” Pepe said airily. “Like, I love California, but the night life here—it has possibilities.”
“All night?” Gonzo asked. The spunky little King Prawn looked remarkably refreshed for someone who’d been dancing the night away.
“Si, si—I have not been back since we left the party,” Pepe said and sallied toward the door.
“You been clubbing all his time with Darcy?”
“Not exactly,” he said mysteriously. “Darcy is very beautiful but—“
“Trudy, then.”
“Not exactly,” he said again, his mysterious air intensifying. “Trudy also is very beautiful.” He smiled and signed to himself. “Like, a gentleman does not talk about such things.” Rizzo and Gonzo exchanged exasperated looks.
“Fine,” Rizzo said disgustedly, heading for the door.
“Never mind,” Gonzo muttered, following.
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Pepe ran up behind them, putting an arm around each of their waists.
“Okay,” he said, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Like, we all went together, okay?”
“We’ve been in New York for less than 24 hours and you’ve already been out clubbing all night with two women?”
“Si, si—is very common for king prawns. And this is the city that never sleeps, non?”
“Unbelievable,” Gonzo muttered.
“Get out,” Rizzo began, then the revolving door swallowed them up.

Ignoring the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door of their room, Gonzo, Rizzo and Pepe entered the room in time to see Kermit and Piggy exchanging one final kiss. Piggy finished bussing her frog with aplomb, then stepped back and tied an ocelot-print scarf over her shining hair.
“Have to go, mon capitan,” Piggy said regretfully. Kermit reached out and helped her button her black leather jacket, gazing at her all the while.
“Bye, Piggy. Love you.”
Piggy repeated the endearment, then leaned forward and whispered something in Kermit’s ear that made him blush and giggle. Before he could respond, she had turned, acknowledged the boys with a grave smile, and swept from the room.
Kermit sighed, then resumed buttoning his own shirt.
“Come on in, fellas,” he said cheerfully. “There’s fresh orange juice and blueberry muffins. We’ve got enough time for breakfast before the airline limo comes for us.”

It was loud and crowded as Kermit, Fozzie, Gonzo, Pepe and Rizzo made their way through the terminal. The airline hostess at the kiosk was solicitous to the point of obsequiousness. “I’m so sorry,” she gushed, processing their tickets with streamlined proficiency. “I hope the layover didn’t inconvenience you too much, um, gentlemen.” There was a slightly awkward silence while each of them tried to tame the quirking of their mouths, avoiding each other’s eyes.
“No.”
“Naw.”
“Nope.”
“It’s okay, okay?”
“Not at all,” Kermit said finally. “We pride ourselves on adapting well to hardship.”

A few minutes later, Kermit found himself settled comfortably into first class between Fozzie and Gonzo. Drowsy, content, Kermit felt his eyelids grow heavy and he relaxed, letting sleep overtake him. Moments after they were airborne, Fozzie slumped over on his shoulder, sighing softly in the arms of slumber. Kermit reached over and took his hat off, gently placing it in Fozzie lap.
“What a trip,” Gonzo said dreamily. He was looking out the window, loving the view.
“Yeah,” Kermit mused. “We got to take care of some business, I got to see Piggy, and…oh! How’s Camilla?”
“Oh, she’s terrific,” Gonzo said enthusiastically. “She’s really adapted well to the City.”
“Seems to. You guys have a nice time?”
“Yeah,” Gonzo said, sighing with contentment. “We had a lot of catching up to do.” He sighed again with deep satisfaction. “She promised to come see me sometime soon—wants to catch my new unicycle and ukulele act.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
Gonzo was silent a moment, gazing at the clouds fleeing before them. He turned slightly and leaned his head close to Kermit’s.
“Hey Kermit?”
“Yeah, Gonzo?”
“That’s some pig you got there.”
“Yeah,” Kermit said, smiling. “She’s really something else.” He smiled, remembering, then tilted his own head to meet Gonzo’s eyes. “Come on in--the water’s fine.”
Gonzo blushed a little, but didn’t look away. “I’ve thought about it,” Gonzo said, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like, you know, if Camilla and I tied the knot and set up housekeeping in a permanent sort of way.” He pulled back and regarded Kermit frankly. “You guys seem to make it work.”
“Most of the time,” Kermit said, his eyelids drooping in spite of his best efforts. “Right now, it’s kindof hard to be apart, but we’re making it.”
There was a long pause, and Kermit felt himself beginning to slip into slumber.
"Um, Kermit?"
"Yeah, Gonzo?"
“Think she’d have me?” Gonzo said quietly.
With difficulty, Kermit roused himself. “Maybe you should ask, Gonzo.”
Gonzo turned to gaze out the window again. “Maybe I will.”

 

[georginamC]

Great story!!!!

 

[ReneeLouvier]

Ooohhh...I love it!!! It's so beautiful!! And really funny too.