The Best Neighbor

The Count

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Yeah, that could work, connecting the archives to the arbor doors. The carriagehouse playset I remember Fisher Price made had the arbor doors, a blueish roof capping piece with trap door that hinged outwards, and a rear face revolving door. So it could certainly work.

BTW: They said on the InFANity special that the carriagehouse staircase leads to a window that's the back window of Elmo's apartment home or something like that. Maybe it's part of 4-5-6 Sesame Street?
Who knows... The world certainly never will.
 

The Count

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*Needs weekly update of thish fic... Post it... Sooooooooooon!
 

Convincing John

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Chapter 21

Ding ding!

The familiar bell at Hooper's Store chimed as it did every day. Alan started up the day like he always did: turning on the lights, bringing in the newspapers, unlocking the cash register. All in all, it was a normal morning.

At least for the first few minutes.

"Hey! All right! Now we can get sometin' ta eat!" cheered a voice near the counter.

Alan turned around to see a rat sitting on the stool in front of him. The rat was hungrily eyeing the pictures on the menu.

"Rizzo! Rizzo!" called a voice. A much more familiar resident of the street poked his long, yellow beak through the door. "There you are! Boy, can you run fast!"

"Hi, Big Bird..." Alan said, a bit distracted. "wait a minute...are you talking to this rat?"

"Sure!" answered Big Bird. "He's a friend of Kermit's."

"Kermit?" asked Alan. "Who's...oh! The frog! Kermit the Frog. I remember you told me he lived here a long time ago."

"Yeah, and now he's here with a bunch of his friends and we're helping them all with something very important." Big Bird explained.

"What's that?" asked Alan.

"Oh," Big Bird continued. "'important' means that something matters a whole lot to someone. Like Radar is very important to me and water is important if you're a fish and.."

"I know what 'important' means, Big Bird," Alan gently interrupted. "what I mean is what is so important that Kermit needs help with?"

"I'll tell ya," Rizzo piped up. "But foist I'd like a stack of pancakes wit' maple syrup, a dozen scrambled eggs and another stack of blueberry waffles, heavy on the butter wit' a large glass of orange juice and a bowl of sugared strawberries."

Alan's eyes widened. "You have quite an appetite."

"I haven't hardly had anyting ta eat all night!" complained Rizzo. "da only ting ta eat over at his place," he nodded sideways "is boidseed! An' dat grouch has got some great accomodations, but just one dozen tins of sardines just don't cut it for a midnight snack! Dat guy told me to scram after I ate some of his moldy ol' cheese collection! Da noive!"

Alan just thought it was best to fix the breakfast and not say anything.

It wasn't long before Alan had more customers. There was the frog, Kermit was his name, followed by some very diverse individuals: various people in multicolored skin tones, a bear in a hat and tie, a pig with long, blonde hair, a chicken, several penguins, a shrimp and something bluish he couldn't identify with a hooked nose. A long, hairy arm gently slid through the open window. It's huge hand gently lowered a small frog to the counter beside Rizzo.

"Morning everybody!"

"Hey everyone!"

"Hi!"

"Is this Hooper's? Wow, it sure has changed."

"Let's get some breakfast!"

"Waak waak!"

"Yeah, I'm hungry."

"Mee moh mee mah!"

"Can someone read the menu? I can't see."

"QUIIII-EETTTT!" yelled Kermit.

"So anyway, I said to the furry, blue creature 'if they're all about Healthy Habits nowadays, then why don't you like eat granola cookies? Then they'll like stop calling you the Veggie Monster and'--" Janice glanced around. "--oh."

"Listen gang, we don't have much time, so let's get right down to business. Did anyone you talked to know who might've done the picture?"

Heads shook around the room, accompanied by negative murmurs.

"No one?" Kermit's hopes sank. Surely it had to be someone on this street!

"Just remember chief, there's still a lot of kids to ask." reminded Scooter.

"Exactly," Kermit nodded. "that's why our Sesame Street friends will keep on asking kids while we're gone."

"How much time do we have?" asked Big Bird.

"Just a few days more. Not much time."

"But what happens if you find out that the person you need is here?" asked Alan.

"It's really very simple," said Kermit. "you can bring the kid to Hensonville, we'll make announcement for KMUP, the kid and the parent will sign a form at the Hensonville City Hall and that's that."

"There's only one problem." said Alan.

"What's that?"

"We don't know how to get there," said Big Bird as his eyelids lowered slightly. "Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Hensonville?"

Kermit laughed. "It's pretty easy. You can go one of two ways," he pointed in midair. "you can take the first curved road like this. Zzzzzssssshhhhkk!"

The rest of the Muppets watched, amazed, as Kermit drew in midair. As he did, a bright, white line trailed after his finger. When Kermit lowered his hand, there was a backwards "C" hovering over the counter.

"How did..." began Fozzie. Big Bird and Alan, however, looked at Kermit's demonstration as though it were perfectly normal.

"Then, you can take the next curved road like this. Zzzzzssssshhhkk!" Kermit drew another curved line beneath the first. When he was done, the lines looked like a number '3'.

Some of the Muppets tried drawing in the air to see if white lines would appear for them, too. It didn't work for them.

"Or you could just take the main road straight down. You'll only cross the curved lines at the first, second and third intersections, like this. Zzzzzzzsssshhhhkk!" Kermit drew a vertical line next to the curved ones. "And there you are."

"Hey!" Big Bird smiled. "You drew the letter B!"

"Huh?" Kermit looked at it from the other side and saw that he had unintentionally drawn a capital 'B'. "Hey, I did! Well, then that's easy to remember. The two ways to Hensonville from Sesame Street make a 'B'!"

"Must be the letter of the day." said Alan.

"An' speakin' of 'B' woids," said Rizzo "how 'bout some breakfast?"

"Hold it, wait a minute," Kermit interrupted. "there's something else everyone needs to know."

"What now?" whined Rizzo. "I'm hungry!"

Kermit went to the back door. "Okay, come on in." he said to someone out of view. Gingerly, Max walked in, his hands in his pockets.

Everyone except for Kermit, Big Bird and Alan, became alarmed. Max suddenly felt as he did when he posed as a motorcycle cop to warn the others about Doc Hopper.

"Look out!" yelled Gonzo.

"It's him!" yelped Fozzie.

"Get outta here!" snarled Clifford.

Some Muppets braced themselves as though to fight. Piggy cracked her knuckles. Sweetums grimaced menacingly from the window. Fozzie hid behind Piggy. Gonzo stepped in front of Camilla to protect her. Link dove under the nearest table, sucked his thumb and shivered. Other Muppets grabbed something to throw at Max. Some had glasses, Scooter held the napkin holder like a baseball before a pitch and there were several hoisted penguins in hand.

"Wait! Stop!" yelled Kermit. "He won't hurt us! I've already talked to him! That's what I was going to tell you about!"

"How do we know we can trust him?" asked Dr. Teeth, his long arm holding something aloft, ready to throw it like a football.

"Just listen!" Kermit stood in front of Max and held his arms wide, trying to protect him. "Max is going to help us! He's decided to stop working for Frass and help us save Mr. Rogers' stuff in the warehouse!"

A few hands lowered, but the skepticism didn't.

"Just trust him, hokay? Kermin knows what he's doing!" pleaded Pepe, who was gripped in Dr. Teeth's hand.

"Remember everyone, Max warned us about Doc Hopper and Snake Walker." reminded Kermit. "He's here to warn us again of what's going on."

"Frass is on his way here," Max explained. "he took the car, I took the bus. Look," he kept his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I want to help you all. I promise. I promised Kermit I would. I...I like Mister Rogers, too. I want kids to be able to watch him and let the Smithsonian exhibit his stuff. Kermit said he'd help me get a new job if I helped," he paused to frown. "and I'm sick and tired of that job."

"You should go to to the doctor and rest in bed, then." said Big Bird sympathetically.

Several Muppets turned to him.

"Well...yeah," Big Bird continued. "he said he was sick and tired. So when you're sick, you go to the doctor and when you're tired, you go to bed."

"Hey, that's a good one! Wocka wocka!"

Max sighed. "Anyway, I promise to help Kermit...and all of you. I promise I'll do what I can to make sure we find who you're looking for."

"Cross your heart?" asked Big Bird.

"Cross my heart."

"Frog Scouts honor?" asked Robin.

"That too."

"You swear?" asked Janice.

"He better not!" gasped Big Bird. "That's naughty! He'll get a time out!"

"Look, I promise, all right? Besides, I'm not going to try anything if she's around. Not after how she took care of Doc's goons."

"Smart move, bub." Piggy muttered under her breath.

Skepticism turned to half-hearted shrugs. Some of the Muppets were still a little wary of Max, but decided, at least, that he wouldn't try anything.

"All right, everyone," Kermit announced. "We know that Max is on our side now."

"Yeah," agreed Big Bird. "he's on the same side of the counter you are. Alan is on the other side."

"Uh..right," Kermit nodded to Big Bird. "in order to have our chance in stopping Frass, Max has to pretend he's still going to help him. That means he's gotta meet up with Frass right until the morning of the 24th."

"So what's the plan?" asked Dr. Teeth.

"I got some ideas," said Max. "we probably don't have much time now because Mr. Frass is getting nearer, I'm sure."

"Nearer than you think." said a voice from the back doorway.

For one horrific second, Kermit thought Frass had found them at Hooper's. Instead, there stood Rowlf. He was a little shaken from his ordeal, but otherwise fine.

"We'll have to cut the breakfast short--" Rowlf started. Rizzo's groan was the biggest of all. "--because even though it won't be for a few hours, Frass'll find us here. He's...he's just a couple blocks away."

The crowd nearly erupted in panic. Rowlf put his paws up and shouted. "BUT--BUT I've taken care of him for now."

"Taken care of him? How?" asked Kermit.

Rowlf explained, as quickly as he could, what had happened at the old vault and his run-in with Frass. Some of the Muppets scratched their heads when Rowlf explained how he got away.

"A film about milk?" Rizzo asked skeptically. "Dat's nuts! how can a film about milk knock a guy out?"

"Believe me, it can," Kermit assured him. "I don't know how it made it on the Old School DVDs. It should be some kind of behind the counter sedative."

"Anyway," Rowlf continued. "Frass is out cold and won't know what hit him at first. But that doesn't give us much time to get out of here."

"Do we still have time for breakfast?" Rizzo complained.

"Maybe a short one," Kermit agreed. Under other circumstances, he wouldn't have said yes, but with Frass out cold like that, they had some time.

"So, what'll it be?" asked Alan.

"Oh that's easy. I'll have a bee-" Rowlf stopped himself in the nick of time. He remembered where he was and glanced a little sheepishly at Big Bird. "I mean, I'll have a root beer."

Whew! That was close. he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later, Kermit and the others used the back door of Hooper's. They quickly packed up their overnight things, said goodbye and met at the bus. Kermit returned to see only Max and Alan inside.

"Listen, here's a tip for putting up with us," Kermit put some money on the counter for Alan. "-and Max..."

Max looked up.

"Good luck. Remember. You can stand up to your boss. It won't be long until we'll meet again. You have the address of the Boarding House in case you need us, right?"

Max nodded and patted his pocket.

"Good. Now I wish we had some kind of diversion until we're..."

The bell rang again as someone else entered Hooper's Store for breakfast. When Kermit saw who it was, he quickly came up with a plan. Immediately, he put more money on the counter.

"Whatever he gets, it's on me. Whatever's left, keep it as a tip." Kermit carefully re-traced the "B" he had made in mid-air to make it thicker and hurried out the door. Max and Alan glanced at each other and wondered why Kermit took the time to retrace a 'B' in midair and pay for a virtual stranger's breakfast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cows...

Cows...

HONK!

"Huh?"

The first thing Frass was fully aware of was his left elbow. It was hanging off the curb. In his dream, a horn honked on the dairy farm Frass was visiting. Max milked a cow. Milk streamed into a rusty bucket. Suddenly, the curb appeared again.

HONK HONK!

A horn?

Frass blinked. Visions of the dairy farm still ran through his head as his watery eyes tried to focus on the gritty street. A part of him wanted to go back to that farm...those cows, he saw them now...

He didn't see them now.

Where am I? he thought.

As if in answer, a taxi cab drove by and drove purposely through a puddle. Filthy, muddy water sloshed all over him. Frass sprang (as well as he could) to his feet and stood unevenly.

Now he was wet, cold, numb, but still only half awake. He shook his head as he stood on the curb. Even though he was furious about his suit getting soaked, he had an overwhelming urge to drink a glass of milk.

Why did he want a glass of milk? Frass tried to remember what happened. It was like a hangover without the headache. Something about a dog...or a frog...a dog? His head was swimming as he struggled to focus his eyes. Where was Max with that milk?

"Paper!" yelled a kid on a bicycle. As he zoomed by, the kid threw the paper towards a mailbox. Instead, it hit Frass in the head.

"OW!" roared Frass. "You rotten little kid! I oughta..." then he saw the newspaper's headline. Frass snapped completely awake. Almost immediately, he broke into a full waddle. Milk was the last thing on his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So uh...what'll it be?" asked Alan.

The monster at the counter saw Rowlf's large glass, half-full of lukewarm root beer.

"Have this?" he asked.

"That's...someone left it behind. Are you sure?" asked Alan.

"Oh yeah, yeah!" said the monster. "Have this please?"

"Well...okay...if you want it." Alan watched as the monster glugged down the root beer in three huge gulps.

"Ahhh! More please?" it asked.

Alan looked under the counter and brought up a 2 liter bottle of root beer. "Well OK, but this hasn't been refrigerated yet. I'll get some ice."

"No ice! No no no! No ice! Like it warm!" the monster answered. "Have it, please?"

"Warm? Well, all right..." Alan unscrewed the cap and got a fresh glass from the shelf.

"No glass! Want whole bottle!"

Alan's eyebrows wrinkled. "You want the whole thing?"

"Yeah! Yeah!" the monster agreed, slapping his furry paws on the counter.

Alan saw that Kermit had paid more than enough to cover that, so he handed the monster the bottle.

"Thank you!" the monster said gratefully. Immediately, he put the bottle to his lips. Max and Alan watched, fascinated, as the monster drained the bottle in less than 10 seconds.

"Mmm! Good! Good! Have more, please?"

"Another bottle?"

"Yeah! yeah! More please?"

Alan brought up a second bottle and the monster drained it just as quickly. As the monster ordered a third round, a vehicle pulled up. It was once a shiny, new, flawless luxury car, but was now a luxury car that had been through some fender-benders. There were dings and scratches in the grill and bumpers, the paint was chipped on the sides where the car had scraped against numerous things and one of the headlight covers was cracked. Its main distinguishing feature, a neon pink tire, rolled up next to the fire hydrant and stopped.

The driver's door opened and Frass squirmed and squeezed his way out. He looked like a cow trying to relieve an itch between two fence posts.

Max saw his boss and stood up. Any second now, he would he trying to waddle through that door.

"Max!" yelled Frass. "Where are ya?"

"Right here, sir!" Max exited Hooper's Store and faced his boss.

"Well? Did you see him?"

Max hesitated. "He..."

"He's HERE! I knew it!" Frass shoved Max aside and clumsily barged his way into Hooper's Store. There he saw an unfamiliar man behind the counter cleaning a glass and a dark blue, shaggy thing with bulging eyes, a flat head, a mouth like a drawbridge and a monobrow. A letter 'B' hung suspended next to him in midair.

Frass ignored the 'B' and slammed a meaty fist down on the counter.

"Did you see a frog and a bunch of goofy lookin' characters run through here?"

Alan leaned back to avoid smelling the horrible breath.

"We get a lot of customers through here. All kinds, all shapes, all sizes. If he did, he must've been in some huge crowd or something. Besides, I don't see a frog, do you?"

Frass's ugly head turned as he scanned the place. There was no one but himself, the owner, Max and the monster in front of him.

Monster...

"You!" Frass yelled. "You must've seen where they went! You're probably one of THEM, aren't you? Huh?" Frass grabbed the monster by the shoulders so his flat beak-like face was an inch away from Frass.

Alan waved at Max then pointed out the door. Max got the message and hurried out to the safety of the Maybach. Alan stepped back as far as he could and waited.

"ANSWER ME!" roared Frass as he shook the monster's shoulders. "You're one of them! You're...you're...what are you doing?"

A change had come over the monster's face. Frass watched as the monster's pitch black fur around its eyes bristled as though from static electricity. The fur framed two, huge, furious eyes. Its lumpy, light blue mouth was closed, but its cheeks and body were now puffing up like a furry balloon. Its long, hairy arms spread out as the monster stood and inflated even more.

Frass let go and backed up two steps. The monster was level with the hovering 'B'. The look on its face indicated this beast was holding something in that was about to burst. Alan ducked behind the counter at the last second.

The monster let out a powerful, roaring belch that shook everything in Hooper's Store. Magazines ruffled on the racks. Salt and pepper shakers slid across the counter. Merchandise on the shelves jiggled and wobbled. The windows vibrated and fogged up like a rapid winter frost.

The noise and force of the belch was enough to send Frass staggering backwards. Rather than argue with the owner or ask any more questions, he simply winced as he backed out of Hooper's Store and into the Maybach.

"MAX!" Frass stumbled backwards, the belch ringing in his ears. "Max, I wanna go back to Hensonville. The frog ain't here! We'll catch him on the road. Go go GO!"

Within a minute, the scruffy-looking Maybach roared to life and headed west.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a long ride home. Everyone had asked everyone they saw, just as Kermit asked them to do. Surely, someone on Sesame Street did the drawing. It was in a child's style. Robin was the only youth in the Muppet Boarding House and the picture was not his.

Just as he had on the way to Hollywood, Kermit sat at the back of the Happiness Hotel bus and looked out of the window. His heart gave a little jolt when he saw someone on a motorcycle approaching. Luckily, it was an anonymous biker that simply passed the bus and zipped away. He wasn't looking for a motorcycle. Instead, he watched the traffic for anything that looked like a dinged-up black coffin on wheels. Cars, semis, a bakery truck, another truck...

There was a hand on his shoulder: one in a glove.

"Kermie?"

She didn't advance to kiss him, she didn't ask him to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. She didn't even try to flirt. She knew that this trip, or more specifically a quest, meant a great deal to him and he was worried.

What could she do? Aside from just being there for him, there was nothing to do for now.

Kermit felt the gloved hand gently rub his left shoulder. He managed a small smile to his slightly fogged-up reflection in the bus window. He liked it when Piggy was like this: understanding and sensitive.

The bus headed back to Hensonville, mingling with the late morning traffic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More soon.

Convincing John
 

Convincing John

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Chapter 22

Lew Zealand and Pops weren't having much luck. Calls came in, but other than a few names and numbers for possible candidates, no one claimed the drawing as theirs.

Animal was getting sick of being cooped up in the basement. Floyd had tried keeping him quiet by feeding him beef jerky, but Animal craved more than food. He wanted to go for a walk and (if he could find some) chase some women.

Eventually, Floyd ran out of beef jerky, along with the bags themselves. He looked around for something else to feed him, but there was nothing except the washtub (now overturned) and a few ragged remains of some bottles of Mr. Bubble. (during his bath, Animal had upset one of the bottles on the floor and had drank the other three before ripping the bottles to shreds).

Floyd had no idea what was going on upstairs, but he knew it involved a lot of kids visiting the house. There had to be a way to let Lew know that Animal was getting restless. Floyd noticed an air vent that led to the parlor and got an idea.

Up in the parlor, another group of kids gawked at the house's interior as they toddled along. One of them petted Gaffer, who gave a sleepy "meow" from the chair where Kermit usually sat.

"Hey, hey man?" called a voice from the baseboards. A few feet away, Pops snoozed next to the phone.

"HEY, MAN!"

Pops woke up and immediately put the phone to his ear. "Muppet Boarding House: In the search for 'The Best Neighbor'."

"Hey! It's me, Floyd!"

"Wha?"

"Floyd!"

"Oh yeah," nodded Pops. "one of them Electrical Chaos fellers, right? How's the trip to New York?"

"Man, I ain't in New York..." Floyd's sigh echoed from the vent. "I'm in the basement and I gotta let Animal out for a walk--"

"You're in the basement?" Pops asked into the phone. "if you're in the basement, what're you doin' callin' the upstairs, then? We gotta keep the line free."

"Can you just put up the 'Out to Lunch' sign or somethin' so the kids'll leave an' Animal won't trample 'em when he runs outside?"

"Lunch?" asked Pops. "Now you're talkin'!" He turned to Lew. "Hey, Mr. Fish Man, they just called from downstairs to tell us it's lunchtime. You finish with this group of kids while I turn on the answering machine and I put up the 'Out to Lunch' sign on the door."

"Lunch? Okay! Sure thing! Hee hee hee!" While the last group of kids told Lew about the drawings they sent in to Mr. Rogers, Pops stood up, switched on the answering machine and slowly shuffled to the front door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was easier to find Hensonville than Sesame Street. When people asked how to get to Hensonville, they usually got some kind of directions rather than someone singing about how the air was sweet.

"I swear, Max, I swear, I have a good mind to build another dog food factory right on the frog's property for good measure. I'd burn down his house...no wait, does that frog live in a house? No, frogs live in swamps..." Frass grinned.

"I know what I'll do, Max," Max could only see his boss's beady eyes in the rear view mirror. "When we build our new factory here, I know just the place to dump our waste."

A clump of houses went by as the Maybach neared the outskirts of Hensonville. Soon, it approached one house which stuck out from the others. It was a house, but something was just...odd about it.

"Pull over here," Frass ordered. "I wanna check this place out."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Whew!" Beauregard stood at the front door of the Boarding House and wiped his face with his handkerchief. "It sure was tough, but I finally said what Mr. Kermit said to do." he looked at the front steps of the Boarding House and smiled proudly at his accomplishment.

"Won't he be surprised to see that allllll the floors are nice and shiny-shiny! I even did the front stairs as an extra surprise! Too bad I ran outta floor wax at the top one. Oh well, this stuff worked OK." Bo shouldered his mop and carried a bucket labeled "Axle Grease" back inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The afternoon went by without anyone else visiting the Boarding House. Lew answered a few calls, but no one had stopped since lunch. His hopes rose as each slow car approached, only to pass by. A few paused, but just to use the driveway to turn around.

About 3PM, a long, black, dinged-up luxury car with a pink tire pulled up. Its intimidating engine growled to a stop. Lew watched as the back door opened. The car wobbled up and down as something massive and gray tried to squeeze its way out.

"Hey, wake up! We got a visitor!" called Lew.

Pops, sound asleep in the recliner, gave a snort and slowly awoke.

"Eh? What?"

Lew watched out the window. A pair of short, thick legs had sprouted from the car and tried to get leverage. A row of bloated fingers curled around the door frame. Finally, there was the head.

"Oh carp!...I mean crap!" Lew said to himself. "It's him!"

"Wake up! It's the roach man!" Lew shouted.

"Tell him we don't want any." Pops mumbled before putting the newspaper over his face.

"I knew this was the place," Frass said to Max. "I saw a buncha kids leavin' here before. I also thought I saw one of them weird lookin' things outside. Hey, there's one now!"

Max wanted to jump out of the Maybach and shield whoever it was from Frass. He swore he would help Kermit, but he also promised Kermit he wouldn't make Frass suspicious of anything. Something else told him not to worry about the particular individual on the front lawn. Max had seen many people taking care of their lawns, but never the way he was seeing it done now.

Since Beauregard had finished cleaning the inside and outside of the house, it was time to make sure the front yard matched. With the help of several extension cords, Bo was now diligently using the vacuum cleaner to vacuum the front lawn. He carefully sprinkled some Carpet Fresh ahead of him as he worked.

"HEY!" yelled Frass as he waddled up to him.

"HEY!"

Bo looked up.

"HEY!"

"WHAT?" yelled Bo.

"Turn that off!" yelled Frass.

"WHAT?"

"TURN THAT VACUUM CLEANER OFF!"

"WHAT?"

"I SAID TURN THE VACUUM CLEANER OFF!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU! THE VACUUM CLEANER'S ON!" Bo bellowed.

Bo tapped at the power switch with his foot and the vacuum died with a noisy groan.

"There, now what were you trying to say?" asked Bo innocently.

Frass fumed. "What..." finding Kermit was put out of Frass's mind temporarily. "Why are you vacuuming the lawn?"

"Because I'm done vacuuming the carpet inside." explained Bo. "it's real easy! You just set the vacuum to 'shag' when you go out."

Frass stormed past Beauregard and tried to walk up the stairs. Stairs were hard enough for Frass, as he hated to walk anywhere on his own. The consistent diet of fatty foods didn't help either.

As Frass walked slowly but determinitely up the stairs, Lew, who had been watching him, locked the door and crouched down.

"Wait!" called Bo. "Watch out for that..."

As Frass stepped on the top step, he raised a huge fist to hammer on the door. But something was horribly wrong. Suddenly, the house sunk out of sight, a row of blurry trees zipped upside-down into view and the sky was now filled with cement.

Bo winced and squinted as Frass bounced down the stairs, looking something like a thrashing whale.

"...waxed step." Bo finished.

As Frass hit the pavement, he heard a loud rip. His pants were now considerably looser in the seat. Embarrassment overtook his fury as Frass stood up and stumbled his way back to the Maybach. Lawn clippings stuck to his body, making him look something like a green porcupine.

"Take me home, Max!" he commanded. His suit was absolutely filthy now. As much as he felt like strangling Kermit, he wanted to do it while wearing a fresh set of clothes. Max waited until Frass had fit his grass-stained frame inside and took off.

Bo watched the scuffed car trundle away and scratched his head.

"What was that all about?" Deciding it best not to think about it (Bo was a lousy thinker anyway), he merely turned on the vaccuum again and resumed cleaning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the Muppets came in, they all (naturally) slipped on the top stair and piled on top of each other. Road trips were fun, but it was good to be home again.

Immediately, Kermit asked Lew and Pops about the kids whose addresses they had taken down. He called them up and asked them to visit the boarding house the next day. Excitement leapt in Kermit's heart. He had leads!

The next day came. Six finalists had been chosen out of all the kids they had interviewed. Calls came less frequently now. Lew still answered the phone, but mostly it was telemarketers.

One by one, Kermit excitedly showed the kids and parents the original drawing. Unfortunately, one by one, each child shook his or her head along with the parents. No one claimed the drawing was theirs. One child even said "I don't like that candy bar! Yuck!"

As the last child and parent left, Kermit sighed. All that build-up for nothing. Sure, there was Sesame Street, and yeah, they had one more day, but time was running out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November 23rd came and the time crawled almost to a stop. Each time the phone rang, it was chaos. Everyone nearby raced to answer it, only to be disappointed by a telemarketer or a wrong number.

At last, the long afternoon came to an end. Sadly, Kermit glanced at the clock. 4:10. Soon, KMUP would have their last airing of the announcement filmed nearly a week ago.

After two hours of silence, the phone rang again. Kermit just happened to be near it and grabbed the receiver.

"Kermit?"

"Yeah?"

"This is Bob."

"Bob!" Kermit answered happily. He knew it! He knew it! Someone on Sesame Street made the drawing and they would be 'The Best Neighbor!'

"Kermit...we're still looking...but I have some bad news. No one has said the drawing is theirs. We asked everybody."

Kermit's face fell.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Kermit. I just thought we'd let you know that we're still trying, OK?"

"Yeah...thanks Bob."

"Bye."

"G'bye..." Kermit heard the dial tone and slowly put the phone back on the hook.

No one nearby needed to know what Bob said. They all saw it in Kermit's face. No one said a word as Kermit, his head down, slowly ascended the stairs. The drawing was still in his hand. His flippers felt like lead weights, bu they were nowhere near as heavy as his heart.

Their one last hope was nearly gone...and their time as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More to come.

Convincing John
 

redBoobergurl

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Ooh two chapters! It's getting so intense! I still have a hunch about the best neighbor, but I could be wrong. At any rate, I look forward to more whenever you get a chance! I still love this story!
 

The Count

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*Wonders if Beth branded the blue-furred body who bellied up to the bar at Hooper's, a perfect cameo when you consider the letter B as the new sponsor for that chapter there on Sesame. *Bounces a bone of brass to the bassman so he and the burly bongo-player can burrow out of the basement.
 

Convincing John

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Ooh two chapters! It's getting so intense! I still have a hunch about the best neighbor, but I could be wrong. At any rate, I look forward to more whenever you get a chance! I still love this story!

Would you (or anyone else) care to chance a guess at who it might be? The Best Neighbor will probably be revealed tomorrow...even though there is quite a bit of story left. (About 8 chapters).

I hope to have the whole thing posted by...oh, I dunno, Monday. I have to play around with the last few chapters a bit first to make sure everything fits together.

Convincing John
 

redBoobergurl

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I don't want to spoil it for anyone in case I am right, but I promise I will tell you if I get it right and I will be honest! So, let's see some more story! :smile:
 

The Count

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:insatiable: Yah, what she said. More story! Please?
 

Convincing John

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Chapter 23

It was hopeless.

Kermit stared out the window, mumbling to someone he couldn't see beyond a gloomy, overcast sky. The clouds hung over a warehouse in the distance surrounded by an orange mesh fence.

"I'm sorry...I just..." Kermit leaned against the window and sighed. Somewhere out there was a kid with a broken heart. He had failed. Frass had won. Max...poor Max. He tried, but what could he do? There was nothing he could do now. Kermit watched the wrecking crew pull up to the building and switch off their equipment for the night. They walked away from their bulldozers and cranes. They weren't at fault. They were only doing their job.

Still, one of the most gentle, yet profound influences on a young child's mind would be destroyed for good. Everything he stood for would be crushed.

Kermit hung his head and held the drawing, the original drawing, rolled up in one hand.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered to the child, whoever it was.

Kermit sniffed as a single tear ran down his cool cheek and hit the windowpane. He sniffed again.

He smelled something.

It wasn't quite like smoke, but had a smoky quality. It had a hint of fruit in it...

Incense.

There was the crackling sound of a record starting up on an old turnatable. Just down the hall, something shuffled from one of the rooms and a chain jangled.

Only half listening, Kermit turned around and decided right then and there to frame the drawing and put it on display. That, at least, would show that Mister Rogers would live on in their hearts. Frass could never take that away from them. Yes, the drawing would go on display. It would be put in a special frame...maybe displayed at the public library.

Without thinking, Kermit paused at the room where the music was coming from. Of course, it was none other than Floyd's room. A mere glance inside, and one wondered if they had found a time portal to the 1960's.

Homemade tie-dyed banners hung on the walls, draped over tables and one armchair. On either side of the armchair were two end tables. One of them held the incense burner: a simple piece of clay with a smoldering incense stick poking out of it. Next to the burner was a lava lamp. Red blobs floated lazily in the slightly yellowish liquid. Kermit half-listened to the Beatles song that was playing:

"Help me if you can, I'm feeling down,
And I do appreciate you being 'round..."

The second end table had the old turntable, one purchased sometime in the early 1970's. That's how Floyd liked his music. 'Analog, man' as he put it. Floyd had original LPs stowed away in a huge collection behind him. There were no CD's, no laptops with downloaded MP3s, no iPod here. Just vinyl...and a few 8-tracks here and there.

Posters hung where the tie-dyed banners didn't. Kermit glanced at the walls: Jimi Hendrix kneeled over a flaming guitar, Janis Joplin sang powerfully as she grabbed the microphone with ring-clad fingers, Keith Moon pounded the drums, his arm blurred in mid-swing, a bare-chested Jim Morrison stared down from the ceiling, a fluffy-haired Ian Anderson stood on one leg while playing the flute...

And that...album. Kermit glanced at the album cover Floyd had selected. Something about it...

"Hey, green stuff, how was the trip?" asked Floyd. He was fiddling with a string on his bass. In the corner, Animal sat cross-legged on the floor panting contentedly. He was chained to the wall, but really didn't need to be. A ragged, chewed up blanket sat on the floor next to him. On the wall behind Animal was a small, framed picture. It was in shadow, as if to protect it from sunlight. Animal appeared to be looking at it, but he might have been just spacing off. It was hard to tell with Animal sometimes.

"Oh, it was..." Kermit's stomach sank a little.

"Sorry we couldn't make it, but you know how Animal gets. So what was it all about anyway? I've totally been off the groove. Everyone goin' here, goin' there. No one tellin' me anything."

"Wh-huh?" surely someone told Floyd and Animal what was going on. Floyd read the expression on Kermit's face and shrugged it off.

"Hey, don't worry 'bout it, green stuff. After Animal had his you-know-what, I had a chance to just mellow out and listen to the tunes!" Floyd laughed his raspy laugh as the Beatles played on.

"When I was so much younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way..."

"Wait a minute..." Kermit slightly shook his head. "you mean you didn't know about Frass..."

"Oh that dude you said was bad news? Well he came here, then thanks to ol' Bo waxin' the stairs, he fell right down 'em and then he split...his pants split, too! Ah hah hah hah hah hah hah hah!"

Kermit took this in, then looked at the album cover again.

"I've seen this before...I've..." Kermit stepped forward and looked closely at the old picture.

"Yeah man, it's the Beatles 'Help'," nodded Floyd. "good grooves. That's the UK release. Mono version, man."

"Won't you please, please help me? Help me? Help me-ee-ee? Oooh..."

"Help..." Kermit repeated. "Help..."

As the song "The Night Before" started up, Kermit stared at each Beatle on the cover: George with his arms straight out, John holding his arms up, Paul with his arms like an "L" and finally Ringo with one arm up and one arm down.

Kermit's heart thumped with anticipation. Something inside told him he had seen this before...

"Ahhh....the night before..." sang John and George.

He had seen this before.

"Ahhh...the night before..." the pair sang again, as though responding to Kermit's thoughts.

He had seen this image...the night before and also a week before!

With slightly shaky hands, Kermit lifted the rolled up drawing...the original drawing. Slowly, carefully, he unrolled it and looked at the unknown artist's rendition of the Neighborhood of Make Believe.

There they were in the picture: Chef Brockett, Lady Aberlin, Mr. McFeely and Mister Rogers in stick figure form. Chef Brockett's arms were out to the sides, Lady Aberlin's arms were raised, Mr. McFeely's were in an "L" and Mister Rogers' arms were...

Kermit's mouth widened. He read the sentence below the stick figures, the only clear, coherent sentence: 'I WANT TO HELP FRED'. The word HELP was directly below the stick figures. Kermit saw a variation of the album cover on the wall. It was a poster not far away from Animal's bed. In that version, the word HELP appeared in bold orange and yellow, with one letter beneath each Beatle. True, someone had switched the Beatles around in that picture versus the original album...but...

Kermit looked from the drawing to the poster to the album cover. His heart beat faster as his eyes darted back and forth.

"You OK, man? What's up, green stuff?" Floyd blinked as Kermit looked from the drawing to the album cover and back to the poster again. It was too much for it to be a coincidence. It couldn't be...Kermit's hands shook with more intensity.

"Floyd..." Kermit's voice quavered in a suddenly dry throat. "do...do you know...do you...do you know any kids that are Beatles fans in Hensonville?"

Floyd blinked in confusion and shrugged. "Nah, I don't know no kids, man, 'cept for Robin...how come?"

Kermit's heart slowed down a little. "We were just...trying to find out who did this is all." Kermit held up the drawing for Floyd to see. Floyd glanced at it, blinked and nonchalantly shrugged as he plucked on his bass.

"That's easy, man," Floyd played lightly along with George Harrison's guitar riff. "that's Animal's."

"It's...wha...?"

"It's Animal's. Don't know how you got it, though. We sent it in the mail years ago. must've come back, huh?" Floyd closed his eyes, clearly more interested in playing along with the album than Kermit's look of shock, then disbelief.

"This song always gets to me." Floyd remarked as he strummed.

Kermit fainted. After he hit the floor, Floyd blinked again.

"You too, huh?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things were still gloomy in the parlor. Scooter, determined not to give up, still scrolled through the comments for their posted video. He rubbed his temples as he read "BEAKER! LOL!" for it seemed the thousandth time. The phone rang sporadically, but the time for people calling about the drawing had passed. When Fozzie answered the phone, excitement leapt in his stomach only to be crushed by a wrong number or a telemarketer. The television mumbled an infommercial to no one. The only ones in the house acting like they normally did were Statler and Waldorf, who were napping on the couch.

Rowlf sat at the piano, one finger idly tracing Middle "C". What more could be done? he thought. We did everything we could. He glanced at the sheet music in front of him. Normally, he could read sheet music in a wink and be playing the tune flawlessly. Now, the sheet music was dots...just dots. Right now, it meant nothing.

A muffled thump came from above. Rowlf glanced up. In this house, that noise could have meant a lot of things. Either Beauregard had knocked something over while cleaning, Bunsen and Beaker were up to some new experiment or maybe someone just moved a piece of furniture.

At any rate, investigating the noise was something to do. The words of the old song Mister Rogers had sung years ago went through Rowlf's head: "Let's think of something to do while we're waiting...while we're waiting for something new to do."

Rowlf stood up and walked up the stairs. In the second hallway, he smelled incense wafting from a psychedelic room. Mixed with the incense, Rowlf heard The Beatles playing "The Night Before". There, in the middle of the hallway, Kermit was half-sitting, propped up on his elbows. The rolled up drawing, the original one, sat next to him on the wooden floor. Rowlf rushed over to his old friend and helped him to his feet.

Kermit was weak, but with Rowlf's help, he could stand on his own two flippers again.

"What happened, Kermit?"

Kermit tried to speak. He tried to tell Rowlf why he had fainted. In that split second of realization after his faint, his mouth spread in a wide smile.

Rowlf glanced up at Floyd, who was playing along with George Harrison. His feathery-rimmed eyes closed in concentration as he strummed and changed chords.

"What happened?" asked Rowlf.

"The Night Before" came to an end and Floyd opened his eyes.

"Fainted, man," Floyd explained. "just told him that picture there's Animal's, I started jammin' and he flipped out. Froggy dude needs to chill."

Rowlf almost felt like fainting himself. "What about the picture?" his sunny side-up eyes widened at what he just heard.

Floyd nodded sideways at the sitting, panting drummer. "It's Animal's. I know it's a shock he didn't eat it after he drew it!" Floyd closed his eyes and laughed raspily.

Rowlf couldn't believe his ears. Neither could Kermit. "Animal's? Animal drew that?" Rowlf asked.

Floyd nodded. "Yeah man. I remember him doin' it. Dude saw somethin' on TV a few years back about Mister Rogers needin' help with somethin'. He watches him, y'know."

If Rowlf was amazed then, he was completely baffled now.

"Animal? Watch Mister Rogers?" How could Animal, the most feral...individual...of the Boarding House, of all of Hensonville watch the most meek and mild person on television?

"I know man, it's weird," explained Floyd. "but it keeps him quiet. The dude'll always stop to watch if it's on. If he flips his lid, Rogers is the only one besides me he'll listen to. He saw some thing on TV where that Rogers dude needed help, so he made that picture and I sent it in for him."

Rowlf couldn't believe his ears. "How could Animal draw or write? He can barely sign an autograph without chewing up the photo."

"Practice man, just like the music. Practice," Floyd was now playing along with the record again. "dude went through a lot of paper and crayons...magnet letters, too." Floyd nodded his head sideways, where a single magnetic "R" held a newspaper clipping about Mick Jagger to the mini-fridge. "besides that picture, that's the only thing left he didn't eat."

Animal panted and leaned against the wall to rest. As he did, Rowlf saw the small, framed picture on the wall next to Animal's ragged bed. The picture, no longer in shadow, now showed a clear image of a man in a sweater with a small trolley in front of him. Next to the man's right elbow was an autograph: "χαρις: Mister Rogers".

Kermit, now sitting up, took in the news which was so ridiculous, yet it was true.

"'The Best Neighbor'...is...Animal."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More soon. Very soon.

Convincing John
 
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