The Best Neighbor

[LamangoNumber2]

*Explodes.*

 

[Convincing John]

Just FYI for the readers, if you'd like, go ahead and open up Wikipedia in a second window. Why? Well, Dr. Teeth is going to explain something to Rowlf in this scene. Just for fun, you can use Wikipedia to find out what our grinning piano man is telling our canine friend before he figures it out...

Or you can read on and get a clue from the other members of the band. At any rate...

Chapter Four

"It can't be."

"It's him...I know it's him."

Kermit and Rowlf were sitting at the kitchen table looking at the drawing. Rowlf looked more like his old self again; contemplative and (thanks to a quick shower) his fur free of Scope and grass stains. His face expressed mild disbelief as Kermit explained.

"It is Max." Kermit insisted. "he's the one who was on that tape. I recognized his glasses and hair right away."

Rowlf frowned a little. "What would Max be doing working for someone like..."

"Max made a poor choice when he got tangled up with Doc Hopper. I wouldn't be surprised if he did it again."

A sudden wave of panic went through Rowlf's stomach that had nothing to do with roaches.

"What if...what if Max tells Frass about us? If Max remembers me, Frass might want to make me advertise for him like Hopper did with you."

"That's not going to happen," said Kermit decidedly. "First, I think Max wouldn't make that same mistake twice. At least I hope not. Second of all, if Frass did find out about you, he'd find out you worked for Purina. For all he'd know, he'd think you'd still have a contract with them."

"That's true." Rowlf nodded.

"Finally," Kermit concluded. "what would you do if you were on one of those commercials for Frass?"

"I'd throw up right there on camera."

"Exactly!" Kermit smiled, patting Rowlf on the back. "and you wouldn't want that all over YouTube and the Muppet Central and Tough Pigs Forums, would you?" he joked. "So, I don't think you'll have anything to worry about."

Rowlf half-smiled. "Okay."

Kermit looked at the drawing again, his face becoming serious again. "But what does worry me, aside from why Max is working for Frass, is this drawing. If I don't figure out who did it, then Frass will destroy that warehouse with Mr. Rogers' things for the Smithsonian."

Rowlf looked up. "What do you mean 'I'?"

"Huh?"

"You said 'if I don't figure out who did it'. What makes you think you're in this by yourself?" Rowlf's paw gave Kermit's arm a little squeeze. "I'm in. I never met Mr. Rogers, none of us have, but I know how much doing stuff for kids means to you..."

...for both of us he concluded in afterthought.

"You're right...but if we had even more help from the gang we could get this mystery solved a lot quicker."

"I'll help you round 'em up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On his way upstairs to find Piggy, Fozzie and the others, Kermit heard a crash coming from one of the rooms.

This was one of the extra rooms sometimes used for practices, a temporary guest room or storage. Not knowing quite what to expect, Kermit gingerly opened the door.

Immediately, he noticed a large cloud of dust, small pieces of wood and some insulation sprinkling down from the ceiling. When Kermit looked up, he noticed something else: two saddle-shod feet kicking wildly. Kermit ducked just in time to avoid another crash. Beaker, covered in dust, landed harshly on the floor and wailed miserably.

"Another scientific breakthrough, Beakie! We've done it!"

You had a breakthrough, all right. Kermit frowned at the overhead jagged hole.

When the dust settled, Kermit saw Bunsen Honeydew smiling proudly next to a lit up TV screen. Next to it was a souped-up old school Nintendo console with questionable wiring snaking in and out of it. Its crooked antenna topped with a blinking light alternated with a matching one coming from Beaker's dust-covered, retracted head. When Kermit looked closer, he noticed that Beaker was wearing a cap. It was similar to the one Mario wore, but marked with a "B" instead of an "M". "B"'s were also printed on faintly sparking straps around Beaker's wrists and ankles.

"What..." Kermit started. He really wasn't sure if he wanted to ask.

"It's our latest invention!" Bunsen boasted. "Well, it's an improvement on an existing invention, but once they hear about it, Nintendo will be begging us to buy the prototype!"

"Uhh...yeah." Kermit couldn't think of anything else to say.

"After Beakie and I read about people becoming more active with the Nintendo Wii, we figured 'why not take it a step further? Why just use your hands or your feet with a game when you can use your whole body?' So that's when we developed our latest video game invention. I call it the Nintendo Meep!"

The TV screen now displayed the title card for the original Super Mario Bros. game.

"Oh, here we go! Let's see if we can get to the end of the level this time!" Bunsen picked up the old school Nintendo controller. An additional antenna attached to it quivered. The matching antenna on Beaker's hat and the straps to his wrists and ankles responded. Against his will, Beaker leapt to his feet.

"Uh, can you two come downstairs, please? We're having a meeting in a few minutes."

"No problem! This level will only take a moment and we'll be right down. At least I think it'll take a moment. I know how to create video games...I've just never been very good at playing them."

The TV screen now displayed the caption "WORLD 1-1". The Super Mario Bros. theme started up. Bunsen lifted his glasses momentarily and clumsily poked the controller buttons.

On the screen, Mario skidded left, right, then left again. Beaker mimicked the same steps. Mario leapt high into the air. Beaker's ankle straps tightened. Beaker leapt like a ballerina and landed on a tall bookcase. Mario ran underneath some bricks, then butted them for coins. Beaker jumped and repeatedly smacked his head against the support beams. Mario jumped over a pipe and kicked a green shell. Beaker jumped off the bookcase and kicked a bowling ball, hurting his foot. Mario jumped into a green pipe. Beaker leaped into an opening in the air ducts. As Mario jumped for coins, Kermit watched the air duct bulge, bang and shake while making muffled meeps. The two of them exited their pipes simultaneously. Soon, the big, brown castle and flagpole was in sight onscreen.

"We did it, Beakie! Here we are at the end of the level!" he turned to Kermit. "We'll be right down."

It was easier done than said in Beaker's case. As Mario bounced up the big staircase, Kermit hopped back as Beaker jumped past him and out the door. Mario gave a big leap. Beaker did as well and soon discovered he had leaped over the balcony and was now in mid-air, with the parlor floor fifteen feet below him. In desperation, Beaker grabbed the closest thing to him, the cord to a chandelier. As he did, Mario grabbed the flagpole. Both of them slid down. As Mario gave the "peace" sign and disappeared inside the castle, the chandelier groaned. So did Beaker. He tried to grab onto something else, but his hands only succeeded in loosening the light bulbs. A half second later, Beaker and the chandelier crashed to the floor, followed by plaster, followed by a cloud of dust.

"Oh, my goodness!" cheered Bunsen. "The timer ended on a five! How snazzy!"

On the screen, fireworks exploded around the castle. As if on cue, five light bulbs followed, shattering around Beaker. The last light bulb popped on his head. The red cap and straps sparked while Beaker's eyes swiveled. He gave a final moaning meep before fainting.

Clifford frowned. "Aw man! This is not cool! Just when I think that every light gets fixed in this place..." he tossed his newspaper aside and grumbled his way to the garage for his tool box.

As Kermit dealt with things upstairs, Rowlf went to the landing of the basement stairs to call up the Electric Mayhem. As the band passed by him up the stairs, Rowlf noticed two band members were missing.

"Hey, where's Floyd and Animal?"

Lips opened his mouth to speak, but Dr. Teeth beat him to it.

"Oh, they're positively in the same vicinity as the dwelling of which we now exist, but it appears that at present they aren't within the range of our ocular abilities. Our moustached musician has taken our Stephan Bibrowski-esque percussionist to a nearby Lithocarpus for a much needed Tarō Gomi inspired activity."

"Like, too much granola'll do it, fer sure." added Janice.

Rowlf was, of course, a musician. He was used to a lot of scat talk and musical jargon, but the Electric Mayhem's way of communicating was completely unique. Most of the time, he just hoped to get the gist of what was being said when they rehearsed together.

Of all people, Zoot translated for him. Zoot pointed limply to the window behind Rowlf as he shuffled along lazily.

"Bathroom, man."

Rowlf turned around. Out in the yard, Floyd held Animal's chain taught as the drummer circled a beech tree. Floyd circled the opposite way to keep Animal from wrapping the chain around himself. In the process, Floyd looked like someone trying to fly an unwieldy model airplane on a tether cord.

Deciding (wisely) to stay away and just wait for the two of them to come in, Rowlf got to work gathering up everyone he could find in the kitchen and parlor.

Within five minutes, nearly everyone was present around the kitchen table. The drawing lay in the center among some of the usual clutter--bills, today's newspaper, Robin's homework and a few chickens.

"Kermie, will this take long? Moi's agent is supposed to be calling."

"Anyone seen Connie Sue? I threw her ay-way, but she didn't come back to me!" A flounder sailed across the room and bounced off Sam's head. "Oh, there you are!"

"Buck bawk?"

"Well, I switched to the argyle socks because I can't get the the tube socks tuned correctly."

"Oongesh ber de froggy der be do?"

"Where's da food? I'm starvin'!"

"What's this meeting about, chief?"

"Probably about snu."

"What's 'snu'?"

"Nothing's 'snu'. What's 'snu' with you? Wocka wocka wocka!"

"I hope this meeting takes a long time so we don't have to rehearse anymore. My head is killing me---"

"SHUUUUT UP!" POW!

"OW!"

"Of course when we get to level 2, I can place Insta-Grow pills inside of portabellos around the room for you, Beakie. But I'll have to find a way to genetically engineer a real Fire Flower..."

"MEE MOH MEEEE?"

"Like I halways say, de womens from Barcelonas love a prawn from Madrid."

"And if I get a hold of you, they'll love you with cocktail sauce!"

"QUIIIIIII-EETTT!" Kermit yelled and waved his arms frantically.

Almost everyone fell silent.

"...and so I said, 'sure, I'd love to work as a camp counselor, but not at a nudist camp!' So then I..." Janice glanced around. "...oh."

"Okay," began Kermit. "Rowlf and I have been talking about this drawing that Mr. McFeely delivered. We're going to conduct a search around Hensonville and...a second place, I guess...to find out who sent it in order to save Mr. Rogers things for the Smithsonian. And so..."

Someone's hand went up...a hand with a fish in it.

"Yes, Lew?"

"Why?"

"Why what? We have to find out who sent it."

"No, no, I mean..." Lew looked around. Someone had to say it. It might as well be him. "I mean, Mister Rogers is for little kids. Why should we care? Can't someone else help him out? We've never met him."

Silent agreement rippled through part of the crowd. There were some small nods.

"Like, Kermit, I know you rully think this is important, but there's no way you can ask everyone in Hensonville and find out who sent this thing by next week. And like, kids have all kinds of other things to watch on TV now, anyway." said Janice.

"Yeah, I bet they won't even miss it. It's for pre-preschoolers anyway, Kerm." agreed Clifford.

"He's no Bill Nye...he's not even a Sid. Clifford is correct, Mr. Kermit," Bunsen agreed. "according to my calculations, at the rate of preschooler growth and development compared to the ratio of available channels and programs, the percentage of children who still care about the program is most likely minuscule."

"Meep?"

"Janice is right, chief. With everyone all over Hensonville, there's just not enough time to find this 'Best Neighbor'. If they lose the tapes, they can always put something better on TV anyway. The kids won't even realize it...right, boss?" asked Scooter.

"Si si," agreed Pepe. "Put someting on for de kiddies with lots of womens on it. De honly womens my size on dat show is de scary one, hokay? I'm not into de 'boomerang, toomerang, soomerangs', hokay?"

"WHO...CARES?" Marvin shouted, leaning forward. "It is a BABY SHOW."

Though no one would say it so bluntly, a lot of them thought what Marvin had just said. Why did it have to be up to Kermit to save the warehouse? He had a lot on his mind with the show. He never met this guy...someone who did this...well...baby show.

"Listen gang," Kermit folded his hands on the table and glanced around at the faces of his friends. "it's...it's hard to explain unless you know what it's all about. See, none of you know what it's like except for me and Rowlf. It's about the kids."

Rowlf chimed in. "Yeah, see...what would happen if Frass wanted to do this same thing to Sesame Street?"

"We'd chip right in and help you then," agreed Lew. "but that's different. They're your family."

A hubbub of agreement went around the table.

"Okay, okay..." Kermit raised his voice a little to quiet the chatter. "See, you'd help out then, even though Sesame Street is for preschoolers, too?"

No one gave that a thought. Sesame Street was intentionally for preschoolers, sure, but it was so much more. Everyone knew that.

"It means a lot to us...and to lots of kids, too. Just like Mister Rogers does. Even though I never met him, I know Mister Rogers had a dream too. There wasn't much dancing, but it had a lot of singing and making people happy. And..." he looked at the drawing on the table. "...someone cared enough about him to send him this, because Mister Rogers made this person happy. And...it just reminds me of..."

"...Those letters." Gonzo finished without thinking.

"Oh, si, si, de letters on de 'Sesame Streets', hokay. A, B, C, D, E, F, G, hokay."

"Not those letters." Rowlf knew instantly, as did many of them. The letters still came once in a while. The ones read on the air that unforgettable night were carefully preserved in a safe upstairs. Clifford poked a finger behind his shades and rubbed his eye a little. He remembered reading that letter decorated similar to the one on the table...

Dear Kermit...I hope you feel better. I will miss Jim Henson, too. I hope this letter makes you feel better. I love you...

Gonzo's thoughts were on the same wavelength... It's a good thing there are people who can do Jim Henson's job...he will be able to see us every time we watch the Muppets. He will be able to see them from Heaven.

Robin, sitting on the table near the drawing, would never forget the one he saw. Someone named 'Matt' had drawn Kermit, kneeling and sad beneath a rainbow.

"Mr. McFeely is kind of like me. He was Mr. Rogers good friend, like Jim was my friend. I know that if the same thing were to happen to anything of Jim's, I'd want someone to help me."

There was a long pause.

"Kermit?" Fozzie gently touched Kermit's shoulder. "Even though I never met Mister Rogers...I'd like to help." Fozzie then glanced at the crowd before quickly looking at his feet. "I...when my monologues didn't go so well, I'd remember what he said..." Fozzie then muttered in a small voice. "he...he made me feel a little better about myself. That's all...and he..." Fozzie shrugged a little, looked down again and fiddled with his tie. "That's all..."

Kermit patted Fozzie on the shoulder knowingly. Only Kermit knew about the well-worn copy of "The World According to Mister Rogers" Fozzie kept with his joke books. After all, Kermit had given it to him.

"I'll help too, Uncle Kermit," smiled Robin. "I mean...Mister Rogers is for little frogs, but it's important to you, so I'll help."

"If Robin's helping, then I'm helping, too." Sweetums chimed in.

"And I'll help," added Gonzo. "the man knew culture. I've seen it."

"Yes he does," nodded Sam approvingly. "his program may be for youngsters, but having brilliant segments featuring such artists as Yo-Yo Ma, extraordinary ballet dancers and the outstanding opera episodes introduces American viewers to sophisticated culture at an early age! I will help as well."

"I'm not talking about that," said Gonzo. "I'm talking about that brilliant movie he showed! It's a cinematic masterpiece--'How People Make Toilets!'" he crowed enthusiastically.

Rizzo gave him a look. "What?"

"It's in episode #1723 'Giving and Receiving'....look it up." replied Gonzo.

There was some quick typing at the other end of the table.

"He's right." said Scooter, tapping at his laptop screen.

"We're in, too. All for one and one for all." grinned Dr. Teeth. Janice, Zoot and Lips cheered in agreement. Penguins, chickens, the Swedish Chef and the others chattered their approval. Even Marvin Suggs gave a half-hearted shrug and a slight nod.

"Oh, I don't know," drawled Link. "isn't it just easier to forget about it? I mean, all my favorite bowling shows are on this week. Besides, the kids have other things to watch like Dora the...uh, the Adventurer, Curious Gerard and Bob the Fixer. And if Mister Rogers goes off the air, they can always put on more episodes of Bar-"

Several hands clamped over Link's mouth like lightning, the last hand being one of Pepe's.

"Ah, dios mio!" his eyes froze in terror. "Don't jou hever say dat word!" he yelled. "Not unless you say 'rubble' or 'fifes' after it, hokay! Look, look!" he turned Scooter's laptop around and found a bookmarked site. "See dat? See, it says 'don't say de bad words on de Muppet Central Forum', hokay. If jou do, the moderators put a locky ting on de thread and POOF! No more story, hokay!"

Link's narrow forehead wrinkled. "Varmee's a bam wrrd on Mrffet Cntrll?"

A pair of stern, shifty eyes glared into Link's.

"Not technically, but in the face of all that is moral, pure and wholesome, I say it is! There is not one iota of culture, intelligence or decency associated with that program. It is an insult to anyone with the IQ above a houseplant! According to the distinguished American author Michael Davis, It once even threatened to destroy Kermit's second home to which he and millions of red-blooded Americans hold dear! Had I more knowledge on website design, I would create an online petition to BAN that...ugh!..." Sam shuddered at the thought. "...THING from American television forever!" Sam pointed at the laptop screen. These moderators work long and hard to keep that website clean and free from such utter FILTH for which YOU sir, almost spilled forth in front of innocent readers!"

The hands left Link's mouth. "Oh, uh...I uh, didn't know...uh..."

"Besides, you wouldn't want those roaches all over Hensonville, would you?" asked Lew. "Imagine if someone made money off of mixing roaches in with pig swill. How would you feel?"

"That'd be terrible!" he moaned. He turned to his left. "Wouldn't it, Piggy? All of our delicious swill ruined by bugs!" he leaned against her and sobbed against her shoulder.

"Get off me!" Piggy gave Link a shove. "Moi has certainly NEVER eaten swill!"

Link gave Piggy a look. "Oh, sure you have! Remember when we were at summer camp as piglets together?" Piggy's face turned beet red from embarrassment, rage or a combination of both.

Link drawled on, a big smile spreading across his face (now that he had everyone's attention). He elbowed Piggy in the ribs. "Sure! It was at good ol' Camp Sowaoinka years and years ago. At lunch, Piggy lined up with us at the ol' feeding trough and said 'this is the best swill I've had since I was a little porker back at the sty!' Remember, Piggy? Huh huh! You still had swill on your face when we had our group camp photos taken. I got mine in my wallet right here--"

Before Link could reach for his wallet, a lavender-gloved hand clamped it down to his thigh.

As the rest of the Muppets looked on, Miss Piggy turned to us, the readers.

"Pardon Moi for breaking the fourth wall, but Moi believes we are having technical difficulties with this story. We will be back in an eensy-teensy moment."

(Piggy then reached up and pulled down a huge shade, blocking us from view. "Please Stand By" is displayed, while Herb Alpert's 'Little Spanish Flea' plays in the background).

When the shade was lifted, Piggy had her hands folded on the table and a look of satisfaction on her face. Link's chair was empty.

"Now, where were we?" she asked sweetly.

"Uhh..." Kermit glanced briefly at the settling tuft of shredded paper behind Piggy. Trying to ignore the smell of a burnt electrical motor, he continued..."Mister Rogers..."

"Yes, Mister Rogers, yes," she agreed. "Well, you know how I feel about fashion, Kermie. The man had no fashion sense. I mean, only TWO pairs of shoes? Come on! And blue sneakers just do not go together with those sweaters of his."

Kermit sighed. Here it comes, she's bailing out on us.

"But it is important to vous, Kermie...so I will help you."

"Oh good." he smiled.

"Of course we will want something decent on television for our future children, Kermie." she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Ah...uh...(gulp)...well, then that's settled then. We're all in this together."

"So what do we do first, chief?" asked Scooter.

Rowlf rubbed his chin. "I'd say the first thing we do is try to figure out how to reach as many people in Hensonville as we can. We don't have much time."

"Right!" agreed Kermit. "I think the best thing we can do is shoot some kind of announcement and broadcast it over our local Hensonville TV station. I might have a little pull in some of the other networks, so if we're lucky, we'll get some airtime on those channels, too."

"Television?" Piggy smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Oh Kermie, may Moi be in it?"

"Why not?" Kermit agreed. "unless anyone has a better idea, let's do it."

"Ah, to send our message over the television airwaves is an excellent choice, Kermit," said Sam. "however, so we don't attract any WEIRDO viewers, I vote to broadcast our announcement on C-SPAN. This way, we will be guaranteed to reach only sophisticated audiences..."

"...and put 'em to sleep!" Rizzo muttered to Pepe. They both chuckled as Sam glared at them.

"Well, I was thinking that we should start with shooting it at the KMUP Studio," Kermit explained. "that way we can save some money, plus we can do it more quickly."

"No problem, Kerm," said Clifford. "those lights oughta be just fine."

"And I'll sweep up and polish the floors so they're all shiny-shiny!" smiled Bo.

"And we'll tune up the transmitter!" Bunsen said as he twiddled his fingers excitedly. Beaker's head telescoped down to his shoulders.

"But wait, wait..." said a little voice. Kermit felt a small hand tugging on his arm.

"Shouldn't we look at the picture first to see if we can figure out who did it? There might be a clue." Robin was closest to the drawing and was pacing around its edges.

"Robin, sweetheart," said Piggy. "don't you remember? Mr. McWhatsisname said the return address was too smeared to read. See?" her gloved hand pointed to an inky blotch in the corner of the envelope.

Robin let out a little exasperated sigh. "I know the address is ruined, but the picture isn't. We might find something out by looking at the picture."

"It's a kid's drawing," shrugged Lew. "what more is there?"

Robin's facial expression clearly said 'do grownups have to have everything explained to them?'

"A lot," said Robin decidedly. "if we just look at it and study it, like Mr. McFeely wants us to, we might know how to find Mr. Rogers' 'Best Neighbor'."

Rowlf nodded. "Let's give it a try."

The Muppets watched as Robin walked up to the picture and swept his little arm over it. "It's obvious what this picture is of, isn't it?" he looked up, hoping that one of them would get it.

"Oongesh der de Neberhood de Meeke-Beleeve."

"Right!" cheered Robin. "Don'tcha see it?"

"oh?"

"...oohhh...."

"...OH!"

To some of the Muppets, it was like looking at a Magic Eye picture. They only saw it for what it was after they were told to look for it. Fozzie knew right off the bat what it was, but he felt he had already revealed too much about being a fan of Mister Rogers.

"Of course! There's the tree where the owl and that cat live!" said Sweetums. "Remember the cat that always went..."

"Mowmomewmemow." read Robin off the drawing.

"There's the tiger's clock!" said Scooter, pointing to the upright rectangle.

"And that psychedelic factory." said Dr. Teeth, pointing to the pink shape.

"And dat's where de scary womens lives, hokay." said Pepe, indicating the squat, gray shape.

"And there's Sweetums!"

Everyone looked at Bo.

"See? There he is! Right there!" Bo pointed to the brown lump on the page. "He's watching the show on TV!" he turned to Sweetums. "I didn't know you went to Mister Fred's Neighborhoodland!"

"I think that's...didn't some duck things live there?" asked Bunsen.

"Mee-me-mee-me."

"Oh, platypuses. You're right, Beakie."

"And that's the...the castle!" said Gonzo.

"Waaaaiiit a minnut," argued Rizzo. "If dat's da castle, den what's a candy bar wrapper doin' on dere? See?" he scraped a little chocolate off the wrapper and tasted it. "See? It's stuck on dere wit' chocolate!" he smacked his lips. "Mmm...and nougat."

"That's disgusting!" said Piggy. "That chocolate's at least six years old!"

"Hey, it's properly aged," Rizzo replied. "it improves the flavor."

Robin rubbed his chin and leaned over the blue illustration. "I think I get it. King Friday lives in the castle...and it's a Payday candy bar wrapper. Now, when does Uncle Kermit pass out the paychecks at the theater?"

"Ummm...when we have money?" asked Gonzo.

"Okay, okay, when we have money. But when do the paychecks usually arrive?"

"FRIDAY!" everyone knew that.

"See? Friday...Payday...I think that's a clue." explained Robin. "Maybe whoever drew this knows that their mom or dad or whoever gets paid on Fridays. That's why they put that wrapper there because...whoever drew this can't write well," he pointed to the various, shaky letters, some with missing parts. "So instead of writing 'Friday', they found something that...well...sort of matches."

"I think some kid was just eating and it just stuck there while he was coloring." nodded Lew.

"You'd think so," said Robin. "but Mrs. Appleby always tells us to pay close attention to details. See how evenly it's stuck on here? And plus, there's this line going through the castle. That's where King Friday would come out. See? Payday is Friday. King Friday lives in the castle. Get it? This was put here on purpose. It's--" Robin touched the wrapper. "--so evenly pasted on there, too..."

"Except around da corners." Rizzo scraped his finger around the edge of the wrapper and licked off the extra chocolate. Piggy grimaced.

"But what about these people?" asked Scooter.

"Yeengesh her be poortreet uf me!" the Swedish Chef pointed to the chef in the drawing.

"No, no..." corrected Rowlf. "remember, we have to think of things from Mister Rogers' show."

"Chef Broccoli!" smiled Bo. "He makes those cakes!"

"I think it's Brockett, Bo." said Rowlf. "this could be...Lady Aberlin...in fact I'm sure it is..."

Piggy took a guess. "That's Mr. McWhatsisname with the mailbag, isn't it?" The blue suit, the hat, the gray blob looked like it could be a mailbag...

"And there's Mr. Rogers with the trolley!" finished Robin. "See? The trolley goes..." he traced a little green finger along the black lines from the trolley to the castle. "...into the Neighborhood of Make Believe."

The words (or partial words) were easy enough to figure out. Rowlf guessed at the trickier ones.

"These are some lyrics," he then sang part of a Mister Rogers song he remembered as he pointed to individual letters on the drawing. He sang "for a friendship with me, you see--that's what 'U C' stands for--F-R-I-E-N-D special. You are my friend."

"Well, thanks mostly to Robin, we have at least part of this puzzle straightened out," said Kermit. "now besides getting the studio ready, we have a couple of things to worry about. One is keeping this drawing hidden. The way we will find out who drew it is to ask kids and their grownups to describe it to us. Once we get the most detailed description, then we'll show them the drawing and ask if it's theirs. This is the only way for sure we know who Mister Rogers picked. I'll keep the drawing safe for now with...with the letters upstairs. I'll ask Mr. McFeely if it's okay for us to hang onto it for now."

"So what's the second thing we have to worry about, chief?" asked Scooter.

Kermit's face fell as he remembered. He gulped. How could he tell them? Rowlf silently looked at an empty space on the tabletop, slightly worried.

"...Max..." Kermit finally got out.

"Wha? Max who? Max what?" asked Clifford.

"Cinemax, he probably means Cinemax, hokay. Kermin is going to get us Cinemax wit de late night womens movies on it, hokay."

"Just Max." Kermit said more loudly, quieting the prawn.

"That Max?" Fozzie cringed.

"What about Max?" asked Scooter.

"He's...he's working for Frass." Kermit tried not to meet anyone's eyes directly.

"No!" shouted Gonzo. Dr. Teeth's eyelids raised in alarm.

"Are you sure? How did you find out, Kermit?" Fozzie asked.

"It was in that video. Max was in it...I know it was him pouring those--"

"Ulp." Rowlf put a hand over his mouth. "--Okay. We know, Kermit."

"It was?" asked Scooter.

Kermit nodded sadly. "I recognized him. He's still got the same glasses and hair. I'd recognize him anywhere."

"And where there's Max..." Robin began.

"Doc Hopper might not be far behind." finished Dr. Teeth.

"I'm not so sure about that. Remember how Max acted towards us? He even dressed up like a cop and warned us about Doc Hopper." Kermit thought back to their journey to Hollywood. "every time Doc Hopper tried something, Max looked like he didn't want to be a part of it."

"I distinctly remember him cheering at the success of the Insta-Grow Pills." said Bunsen.

"He wasn't really a bad guy." said Rowlf. "He didn't do anything bad."

"Except ruin a romantic moment." Piggy huffed.

"But he tends to fall into the wrong crowd," Kermit replied. "that's what I'm worried about. Think of what might happen if Max figures out we're here? Sure, Max doesn't want to hurt us, but he let Hopper push him around all the time. I'm sure Frass would do the same thing."

"But Frass isn't looking for vous, Kermie."

"Which gives us an advantage," Kermit said. "I don't think Max or Frass know we live here...yet. The only drawback is if they see our announcement on local television. If Frass sees we're trying to help Mr. Rogers, he'll try to stop us."

"But we...we have to help!" pleaded Fozzie.

"And we will...we're just going to have to take a risk or two, that's all."

There was a pause.

"So you want me to light the lights at KMUP, Kerm?" Clifford asked.

Kermit looked at the picture. He thought of the unknown, young artist, the decades of sweater zipping, piano tunes and trolley dings. He thought of the man himself, wanting so much for his dream to come true. He thought of his inwardly flustered best friend...the imminent crashing of cement and the destruction of thousands of artifacts...the destruction of one of the last truly innocent and pure bits of television left...

No.
He would not let that happen.

Kermit looked at him. "Clifford?"

"Yeah, Kerm?"

Kermit smiled. "It's time to light the lights."

The Muppets got up and left the table, splitting up to get things started. Amongst all the empty chairs, the only activity in the room was a faint hiss. Smoke rose from the paper shredder. It was severely clogged with a crumpled, worn wallet, sliced credit cards, shredded cash and an old photograph, now turned into confetti. One of the bedrooms on the upper floor now had a new air vent. It was in the floor, freshly created by Link's head and torso.

A penguin waddled by and saw Link as he wriggled to get free from the floor. The penguin, thinking Link was doing a new dance, waddled alongside him. More penguins joined in, squawking and having a great time as they shimmied, waddled and jumped. One bounced off Link's head.

"Ow! Oh, if Mommy were here, she'd kiss my boo-boos and make them better." Link complained.

Hearing this, the penguins crowded around Link and kissed him, squawking and laughing all the while.

"This isn't my day." sighed Link.

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

 

[The Count]

*Loves update. Thank you, I needed that.

 

[Convincing John]

Chapter 5

Chapter 5 everyone! (Although I feel like Count is the only one reading this). Every time I type a new chapter, I sorta feel like Rowlf in this clip. Maybe Count should tell me "Post, hound! Post!" at the end of each chapter lol!

Anyway, a hidden movie reference, a commercial reference and another trip back to the dog food factory are located within this chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

It had been a busy couple of days. Between rehearsals for the next show, Kermit had taken the taxi back and forth between the theater and KMUP studios. He wanted to ride his bicycle so badly. It was perfect weather for riding. But Kermit decided against it. That's how Max found out about him in the first place.

Other precautions were made around the Boarding House. First up, something was immediately done about the Electric Mayhem's bus. Parked outside, it was just too obvious. Max would've recognized it. Sweetums had helped build a makeshift garage for it in the driveway. It was only canvas and some metal poles, but it did the job.

Clifford and Rizzo got to work at the KMUP studio controls as Bunsen and Beaker fiddled with the transmitters. As Bo swept up, he flinched and squinted at each spark caused by Beaker being used as a conductor. Most of the others did what Kermit did; they took taxis or carpooled from the Boarding House to the theater or the studio. When possible, they used side streets to avoid being seen. Kermit had even put a tarp over the word "Muppet" on the marquee and the theater sign.

Robin went to school like he always did. The only difference being that Kermit wanted Robin to take a different route for safety. This meant taking the bus was out. Robin didn't mind that. Sweetums volunteered to carry Robin to and from school. It was more fun this way for Robin, since Sweetums knew all the shortcuts. Most of the shortcuts, however, were through various backyards. More than once, Sweetums came home with Robin in his hand, a plastic flamingo dangling from the tattered rags on his leg and half of someone's clean laundry draping his shoulders.

That day, Kermit decided to come early to the KMUP studio before the others came to shoot the announcement. He wanted to check out everything, just to make sure it all worked properly.

The stage backdrop was lit up with soft blues and purples. This would double as the video screen. Bunsen had done a good job editing the footage they needed. Clifford's expertise with the lighting equaled that of selecting the background music. Kermit tried it out. The music's stereo system was just right. No feedback, no pops...good. He played the video. Perfect focus, no 'blips' or lines...excellent.

The only thing on the stage was a simple, tall stool...the same one Kermit had sat on during the 'Magic Store' number. It was scratched and worn around the corners, but that was OK. It was all he needed...and he was sure Mister Rogers wouldn't mind.

Despite how great everything was going, Kermit felt butterflies in his stomach. They weren't the butterflies he had for lunch. This was a different feeling.

They were taking a risk putting themselves on television with Max so close by. Frass wasn't looking for them...but after what happened with Doc Hopper...

Kermit rubbed the goosebumps underneath his collar and tried to forget. He concentrated instead on that lone child out there. Somewhere, there was a lone child that would help protect the legacy of a legendary gentle genius. He had to find this child. Max or no Max.

Kermit shut everything off and locked up. As he hailed a taxi on the curb, he tried not to worry about the deadline. Things would work out.

At least he hoped they would.

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

"Was I all right? Was I funny?" worried Fozzie.

"You were fine, Fozzie." assured Kermit.

"How was Moi?"

"You were fine, too Piggy--"

"Hopefully lots of womens will see dis hokay."

"Were the floors squeaky clean enough?"

"When do we eat? I'm starvin'!"

"In a bit," answered Kermit. He hadn't thought about food (or anything else for that matter) but the announcement.

Kermit called the schedule managers of KMUP, (the local Hensonville Local Access Channel). They scheduled the announcement to be run about a dozen times per day throughout the week. The first airing would take place at 6AM the next morning. Scooter downloaded the rehearsal video and posted it on YouTube. There were no viewings so far, but they knew that would change soon enough. The only difference between the rehearsal video and the final cut was a blooper in the rehearsal tape. At the beginning, Beaker noticed he was on camera and quickly ran out of shot. Big deal thought Scooter. It doesn't matter.

Throughout the night, Kermit kept waking up. He had the same recurring dream of himself and Rowlf doing a musical number, Max noticing it and telling Frass. Then suddenly the image transformed to himself and Rowlf being forced to work at the dog food factory. The last thing Kermit saw in each dream was looking at a warehouse collapsing under a controlled demolition. As it imploded, Kermit saw a blue sneaker, part of a small crown and half of Daniel Striped Tiger's clock sailing into the air.

After the third time, Kermit decided just to stay up. He looked at the clock.

"4:30? Sheesh." Kermit sighed and climbed out of bed without bothering to put on his robe. He shuffled along in his pajamas, tired but also worried and nervous. What if we can't find that child in time? What if Max finds finds out we're here? If Frass sees that announcement, he's bound to try to stop us. I hope he doesn't try to find our house and...

No.

He had to keep those thoughts out of his mind. Jim had a positive attitude. So could he. They would find that child. They would save Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. They would!

But what to do now? Kermit thought. He knew he'd have that dream again. He walked softly down the stairs. Maybe...maybe I'll have something to eat, he thought.

Kermit squinted as the interior refrigerator light hit his eyes. "Let's see...leftovers, leftovers..." he glanced around the upper shelf. "okay, we got some soda, OJ, purple stuff, ooh! Sunny D, all right!" Kermit poured himself a glass, then walked into the living room to settle in his favorite chair. Amazingly, the TV remote wasn't lost (like it usually was) but right there on the chair armrest.

Kermit glanced up at the clock. It was fuzzy in the dark, but only five minutes had crawled by. Not much to do now but wait. He clicked on the TV and flipped through the channels. They only had basic, so there wasn't much.

(Click)

"HI!" A voice bellowed even with the TV volume down. "I'm Todd Kapoodle, the Used Car King! We got all kinds of cars going REAL cheap! We got a special sale on fixer-uppers! Buy a car without an engine, then if you can find all the parts for that engine, we'll install it at HALF the fee! Yes! HALF the fee! We have all kinds of tires, too! We got round tires, square tires, and even flat tires we've professionally repaired with the help of our good friends at Hubba Bubba! So, come on DOWN this weekend for excellent deals! For instance, here's a one-of-a-kind, rustic item! Thanks to a stalling on the train tracks, the 5:15 from Chattanooga turned this once boring, functional truck into a real fixer-upper for the handyman who really wants a challenge! So--"

(Click)

"And lift those legs! One! And two! And one! And two! C'mon! Burn that fat!"

(Click)

"This is an AMAZING vacuum cleaner! Just LOOK how it picks up those marbles!" RRRNNN!-clackety-clackety-clackety!--RRRNNNN!-clinkety-clunkety-clack!--RNNNN!-clunka-clanka-dink!--

(Click)

Fffffff......(Click) "Camembert cheese is also produced on a large scale and molded by the thousands in giant factories..." (Click) ffffffff (click) "cheeses..." (click) ffffff (click) "cheeses..." (click) ffffff (click) "cheeses..." (click) fffff

Kermit frowned. "Should I watch cheese or snow?"

The TV static had a calming, almost hypnotizing effect. The flickering light from the television cast reflecting ripples in Kermit's glass of untouched juice. Finally relaxed at last, Kermit faded off into a fuzzy, dreamless sleep.

A little while later, dawn inched its way into the corners of the Muppet Boarding House. Early morning sunlight greeted the plants on the front porch, warmed the windowpanes and made a small, young frog rub his eyes as he walked down the stairs.

"Uncle Kermit?" Nothing replied except the long, monotonic hum of a test pattern.

Robin crept closer. There was his uncle sound asleep in the chair. He looked at the clock. It was 5:50AM.

"Uncle Kermit?" Robin gently shook his uncle's arm. Kermit mumbled a little in his sleep.

"It's almost time..."

"Mrpph? Hrmm...I don't wanna go to school today..."

"Not school! The announcement! The announcement we made to be put on TV! It's almost time!"

"What?" Kermit groggily woke up and squinted in that fuzzy focus one experiences after a deep sleep. Straight ahead of him was the smiling face of Jim Henson...for some reason singing a long song with only one continuing note. A half-second later Kermit snapped fully awake and realized he was staring at the local Hensonville TV channel, KMUP test pattern. The traditional "Indian Head" in the test pattern was replaced by Jim Henson's face.

Kermit shifted his weight in the chair and stretched. How long had he slept? It felt like hours.

A moment later, the test pattern disappeared and was replaced my a graphic with the KMUP call letters. A baritone voice announced "Good Morning" and proceeded to rattle off the station identification information. As the voice explained how many gigahertz the station took and where its transmitters were located, a third resident of the Boarding House joined Kermit and Robin.

"Couldn't sleep, eh?" asked Kermit.

"Not really," Rowlf admitted. "I thought I'd sneak a peek at how the announcement looks."

"Well, grab a chair, it's going to start any minute." said Kermit.

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

Dawn slowly swept across Hensonville, bathing the landscape beyond it in a warm, welcoming glow. It shined on the tractors that had been puttering across the fields for an hour. It sparkled against the windshields of early morning commuters' cars. It greeted drowsy, yawning people as they bent down to pick up their newspapers.

There was one place, however, that the dawn seemed reluctant to cover. Two towns over from Hensonville was an imposing structure. It was a factory. It differed from the other factories in town, mainly because it stank of bugs and stale dog food. Not even the nuclear power plant across town reeked this badly.

Another attribute set the factory apart from the rest of the town altogether. Due to budget cuts, lazy planning and "important" design decisions, the factory was unfinished, yet functional. Several walls were missing, replaced by haphazardly taped plastic canvases. Steel beams balanced precariously in the rafters, abandoned by construction workers who were let go due to budget cuts. It was all right with the CEO. His office and personal lounge were finished. In his mind, that's all that really mattered anyway.

The morning whistle was about to blow as one lone worker checked the various gauges and instruments in the factory. He walked among the machinery, glancing briefly at the filthy gears, belts, spouts and hoses. As he worked, he tried to focus more on the clipboard in his hand rather than his surroundings. No matter how well the janitors cleaned the place, there were always a few dead (or dying) roaches here and there.

This was his morning routine and he hated it. Still, a job was a job. He had to pay the bills somehow...and that last couple grand he still owed on his student loan payments. It wasn't much of a comfort to know a paycheck was coming when it came from a job like this.

The worker performed his last duty before opening the factory: unlocking the doors for the factory workers.

The keys jingled almost pitifully as Max glumly put them in his pocket. Workers standing outside shared his expression as they put on their hardhats and checked in. There weren't many of them now that the factory had so many budget cuts. Frass had pulled some strings, dodged some policies and bribed many a health inspector to make his factory functional on a skeleton crew.

After the last worker shuffled by, Max checked the names on his clipboard and went to his boss's lounge to enter in the data.

Max didn't dare go into the staff lounge. Nor did anyone else. The janitors did their best, but roaches still found their way inside. Max never forgot the morning he flipped on the light and saw a family of them swarming from the coffee pot to a crack in the wall.

No, this was Frass's personal lounge and the place was kept scrupulously clean. Max didn't care if the place was sanitized enough to suit Howard Hughes. He still didn't dare sit anywhere and often carried hand sanitizer when he had to touch the computer keys. It was a habit of his.

Frass (or a janitor) had left the television on from the night before. Someone in a baritone voice mumbled something about the transmitters and gigahertz some television station used. Max ignored it as he propped the clipboard against the monitor and opened the daily Excel spreadsheet. There was a blob of what (he hoped) was dried nougat on the Tab key. To be safe, he poked the sticky key with a pen as he checked off the workers' attendance records. He flipped a page, opened a second file and entered some inventory records from the night before. The television mumbled through a brief Sermonette and was now nearing the end of a brief livestock report.

Max saved and closed the file. As he logged off, his stomach twisted at the thought of another day pouring drum after drum of roaches into mixers. As always, Max had the only breakfast that calmed his stomach, the same breakfast (and lunch) he had had for ages: Rolaids. Max crunched and grimaced at the chalky taste.

Doing his best to keep his looming, daily tasks out of his head, Max lowered his head and left the room just as the livestock report came to an end.

Ding ding!

"It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood..." a cheery voice sang.

"What?" Max blinked and peeked into the room.

The smiling, singing face of Mister Rogers was there. It brightened even this squalid, wretched place. Mister Rogers had a way of doing that. Max's stomach loosened a little, not relieved by Rolaids this time.

It was obviously a video clip--some kind of commercial for PBS, Max thought. The whistle hadn't blown yet. Max had a little time. Maybe...maybe he'd watch Mister Rogers for a minute or two...just to see what the commercial was about.

The camera pulled back. Mister Rogers was now on a TV screen within a nearly blank studio. For a moment, Max thought it was a "picture in picture" feature of the TV.

It turned out it wasn't. The TV within the TV was filmed on purpose, right next to a worn out stool. On top of it sat...

Max's jaw dropped.

It was him.

"Please won't you be...my neighbor?" Mister Rogers sang as he tied his left sneaker.

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

Rowlf, Kermit and Robin had seen the playback of their announcement last night. They knew what to expect. Still, it gave them goosebumps all the same.

"Hi ho, Kermit the Frog here," said the Kermit on the screen. "We're here to tell you all about something Mister Rogers did a few years ago."

A tight shot of tumbling envelopes appeared with Kermit now providing a voiceover. "A few years ago, Mister Rogers tried to find someone who he called 'The Best Neighbor'. This person would be in charge of keeping Mister Rogers' Neighborhood safe. Mister Rogers finally chose one person...a kid, actually, from two places. One of them was Hensonville. As a matter of fact, we have a video of Mister Rogers talking about it right now."

The announcement showed a clip from the "Best Neighbor" video Mr. McFeely had played for them. Mister Rogers explained what 'The Best Neighbor' entailed and that he made his decision.

The camera shot now showed a close up of Kermit. "That's right, kids. Mister Rogers has made his decision and we have the child's entry. The only problem is the return address is too smeared to read. We don't know who 'The Best Neighbor' is. This is where we need your help. If you are a kid and live in the Hensonville area, and if you sent in a drawing to Mister Rogers with the help of a grown up, please visit the Muppet Boarding House here in Hensonville. This is where the drawing will be kept for safekeeping for now. If the drawing is yours, then you will be 'The Best Neighbor'!"

A new shot of a covered easel filled up most of the screen. Miss Piggy gestured to it like a game show model in front of a new car. The cloth over the easel, bathed in swirling spotlights (thanks to Clifford) was coated with question marks. As Miss Piggy hammed it up for the camera, Kermit's voiceover continued.

"Yes, right behind this cloth is the drawing Mister Rogers personally picked."

"He picked it personally?" asked Fozzie as he walked into frame and pointed to the cloth.

"That's right, Fozzie!" Kermit replied from offscreen.

"That's right!" Fozzie repeated, stepping in front of the cloth as Piggy frowned. "Mister Rogers personally picked the picture from preposterous piles of proposals presented by post from possible participants! So please pedal, plod or plunder to our place if you plan to be persistent in providing a possibility to our perplexing predicament! Wocka wocka wocka!"

"Fozzie!" called Kermit from off-camera.

"What? Oh, sorry!" Fozzie reached up with his tie and wiped off the slightly moist camera lens.

The camera was now on Kermit again. Max watched intently, hanging onto every word.

"Remember, this is a very important job and Mister Rogers is depending on you, whoever you are, to help him. If your description of your drawing matches the one we have and you live in the Hensonville area, then YOU will be the Best Neighbor! Yaaaaaaay! The Muppet Boarding House is located at--"

"MAX!"

Max jumped, his heart racing. He turned around to see the frowning face of his boss.

"I--I just got the data entered in..." he stammered.

"GET...ON...THE FACTORY LINE...NOW!" he boomed. Max immediately ran out of the room and down the hall. Frass pointed after him and continued to yell like a drill sergeant. "If you wanna watch cartoons instead of working, I can always find another assistant!" he roared. "Any more loafing and you're going STRAIGHT to the unemployment line without ANY severance pay!"

Frass watched as Max scrambled down the hall like a frightened squirrel. He then grabbed the errant remote with his pudgy hand and saw just a fraction of a familiar, elderly face before snapping it off.

One grey, wiry eyebrow arched in the direction of the set. As soon as he knew he was alone, Frass turned on the TV again. He had a feeling there was something out of place. The channel number didn't match PBS in that area. Why would any other channel show Mister Rogers besides PBS? Something didn't make sense.

By the time the picture blurred from black to a focused image, Mister Rogers was gone. Instead there was footage of a bearded man in a hospital bed. A doctor examined him while the man tapped his fingers on his book. For some strange reason, everything happened to a beat: the man's heartbeat, a cough, a bird tweeting and finally a small clock, which exploded on the windowsill. A moment later, the same man (perhaps) was painting an elephant pink.

Frass snapped off the TV.

"Weird." he huffed and waddled back into his office.

Max stopped at the end of the hall as the morning whistle screamed. A new day of pouring roaches into dog food mix awaited him. Eight long hours. His stomach churned along with the machinery as it groaned to life.

But there was something different about today. There was hope. Somehow, somewhere, there was hope. If nothing else, Max was going to hang onto that hope...

...and somehow he was going to try to find Kermit.

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

"Not bad for the time we had to do it in," smiled Rowlf. "it was nice and simple...and that's OK."

"Yeah," agreed Kermit. Forgetting how long he had left his juice out he tried a sip. "Warm...yecch."

The announcement came on a couple hours later as the Muppets woke up and began their day. It wasn't long before there was a knock at the door.

Kermit's heart raced, immediately thinking of Frass. He imagined him there in the doorway, fists clenched, ready to threaten him.

"Who-who is it?" he called among the chatter of the Boarding House.

No answer.

Carter, the elderly, shaky butler went to answer the door, pausing to peek through the little peephole.

"It'sh a man with glasshesh and a hat-tsh." he lisped. (He had forgotten his dentures upstairs).

Max! thought Kermit. Oh no!

"Come in." Carter quavered.

"Wait!" called Kermit. But it was too late. Worst of all, Robin was near the door. Kermit was too far away to get him in time.

Slowly the knob turned.

The door opened as if in slow motion. Kermit's arms went cold as he reached out, much too far away to get his nephew out of harm's way. it was too late for anyone to do anything.

The Boarding House went deathly still.

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

 

[The Count]

Aargh! Need more! Post pronto please!

BTW: The part I liked the best, because it brought back memories of doing the same thing, was where Robin got up and walked downstairs to the TV with the station identification information and all the radio signal info as well. That was back during my childhood, when SST was on 6 AM. Good memories.

 

[Convincing John]

The part I liked the best, because it brought back memories of doing the same thing, was where Robin got up and walked downstairs to the TV with the station identification information and all the radio signal info as well. That was back during my childhood, when SST was on 6 AM. Good memories.

Yep, I loved writing that part because I too have fond memories of seeing that stuff on TV at the crack of dawn when I was a kid. With me, it was every Saturday morning. Before the cartoons came on there'd be the test pattern, then the sign-on stuff (with the station and radio info) and the guy with the deep voice rattling it off.

I always liked this song, too. It's kind of a "Good Morning" song, where the lyrics were changed depending on the region/station. I've heard it a lot during the "sign on" years ago.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx1kmoO6edU

Now, channels are almost all 24 hrs. When there's nothing on in the middle of the night, they play those stinkin' infommercials! Honestly, I'd much rather watch a test pattern and the "sign-on" than some schmuck selling something you don't need that doesn't work anyway. (End of rant).

Oh, and more story will be coming very soon!

Convincing John

 

[Zena Star]

I'm loving this, all the jokes, and just everything about your writing is so great! I especially like how you managed to weave ol max in there! More please!

 

[redBoobergurl]

I'm still reading! I promise! I signed up to be notified and I don't think it's working real well, I got the email about chapter five, but not chapter four.

I don't even know where to begin with my review - this is just so fantastic! The details, the humor, the scene reminisant of GMC where Kermit is ralling the troops to help his cause, Robin figuring out the picture, Kermit watching early morning TV, Max...OY.

This story is truly my favorite on Muppet Central right now, so please, keep it coming! I'll stop relying on my email notifier so I don't miss out next time!

 

[Convincing John]

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Speedy Delivery!"

Several Muppets, Kermit most of all, sighed with relief.

"Hooray! It's Mr. McFeely!" Robin cheered.

Mr. McFeely walked inside to find a nervous but happy crowd. Some of them clapped.

"My goodness! Thank you!" he smiled. "What a welcome!"

"We thought you were the bad roach man!" said Beauregard.

"Yes," agreed Bunsen. "we calculated the probability of Mr. Frass coming here once he found out what we are trying to do. Sadly, the risk is very high."

"Mee mah mee mah." agreed Beaker.

"That's why we were a little on edge," explained Kermit. "we figured once Frass finds out what we're doing, he'll try to stop us."

"That is a reason to be a little concerned," said Mr. McFeely. "but once we find 'The Best Neighbor', we won't have to worry about it. Which reminds me," he paused. "Mister Frog, I have seen your announcement and I think Fred would be very pleased. Has anyone asked about the drawing yet?"

"Nope," Kermit replied. "but it's only been a couple hours since it aired and it will be on KMUP pretty much all day today. Lots of people in the Hensonville area watch it."

"That's wonderful, but if it's only a local channel, I don't know if it will fully help you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, remember when I said there were two possible addresses that the drawing could be from?"

Kermit had completely forgotten about that! Here they were concentrating on only the Hensonville area. Somewhere, there was a second area to search.

"Where is it?" asked Kermit.

"Well, the Speedy Delivery tracking number pointed to two places. One is Hensonville. The other is from New York City."

"NEW YORK CITY?" everyone chorused.

"That'll take, like, ages to search!" moaned Janice.

"Fortunately miss, the number narrowed it down to just one street." Mr. McFeely replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little paper he had written on. As he gave it to Kermit, a look of concern came over his face.

"Here's the street name the tracking number says you're connected to. The problem is, I don't know how to get there."

Kermit took the paper and read the name.

"Do you?" asked Mr. McFeely.

Kermit grinned as the last bit of leftover fear drained from his stomach. Why didn't he think of this before? It was so obvious!

"But if we have to go somewhere else, then who will stay here? The announcement said for people to come here to see us." Fozzie pointed out.

Kermit thought quickly. "We'll have two groups. One small group will stay here to answer phones, see people in person and...try to keep Frass and Max at bay if we can. It'll only be for a couple days. Most of us will be going to New York because I'm going to need a lot of help. This will be a short trip to New York because I want to be here and keep an eye out on the Boarding House."

There was a chorus of "I'll stay" and "I'll go!" until the whole house was chattering away again.

"QUIIIII-ET!" Kermit yelled, waving his arms. The Muppets went silent. "Listen, we need some protection and also some people who wouldn't mind answering the phone. Like I said, it'll only be a couple days and then everyone can pitch in."

"Well, Mr. Frog, that is a good idea," said Mr. McFeely. "but might I suggest choosing someone who didn't appear in your announcement to watch the house? If Mr. Frass comes here, we would want someone here he couldn't recognize."

Kermit thought a moment. "I think I have an idea how to do that."

"Well, you keep me posted," Mr. McFeely replied. "I'll be back in a couple days to see how things are going. I think I'll leave the tapes and the drawing here with you in case you need them some more. I'll see you soon!" He gave everyone a wave goodbye and was down the street on his bicycle in no time.

"Okay, we need just a few of the gang to stay behind. Five should do it. Lew, how 'bout it? Do you want to answer the phone and the door and interview kids?"

"Sure!" said Lew. "they'll come to me, and if they ain't 'The Best Neighbor', I'll send them ay-way! Hee hee hee!"

"Thank you. Now I was thinking we could get Pops to lend you a hand with that. He's had a lot of experience with answering the door anyway. I kind of wish Sam were here to help, but he's off doing that C-SPAN thing. Hmmm..."

"And I'll stay to make sure the place is clean for the nice folks who drop by!" volunteered Beauregard.

"Uh...okay, yeah, sure, Bo." Kermit agreed.

"Who do we get for protection, chief?" asked Scooter.

"Who else?" shrugged Kermit. "if Frass tries anything, I'll tell Crazy Harry to 'do his stuff'. But since we don't want the whole house blown up, I thought of someone else that might help. I'll be right back."

Kermit walked downstairs to the basement, but not too close. Before he was halfway down the stairs he heard "SMELL MAILMAN! SMELL MAILMAN!" followed by "Down, Animal! Sit! Heel!"

"Down! Sit! Heel!" repeated Animal as he sat down. He panted, eyelids drooping, while Floyd hooked his chain to the wall.

"Hey Floyd?" called Kermit. "We could use your help with something."

"Aw man," Floyd shook his head. "Can't. I heard somethin' about a road trip to New York, but I can't go. Me an' Animal gotta stay behind."

"Be-hind..." Animal panted.

"Well, that's what I needed you to do anyway. There'll be a lot of people, hopefully, showing up...kids mostly, over the next couple days. But if anyone comes to the door who looks like a big, fat version of Doc Hopper, let Animal go after 'em."

Floyd nodded. "Sure thing, man. This dude's trouble, huh?"

Kermit realized that Floyd missed the meeting yesterday, but he had no time to fill him in on what was going on. No matter, Kermit thought. He was sure to see the announcement on TV anyway.

"He sure is." said Kermit. "So...just curious. Why did you say you have to stay here?"

"Oh...uh..." Floyd looked at Animal. "Well..."

"What?"

Floyd leaned in closer. "I gotta give the dude his...you-know-what..."

"You have to give him a what?"

"The dude knows the word even if you spell it..." Floyd thought a moment. "Uh...you know that song Ernie sings...about the...squeaky thing?"

"Yyyeah..." Kermit nodded.

"And where is Ernie when he sings that song?" Floyd asked.

"OH!" Kermit finally understood. "Okay, okay. I get it now."

"Okay..." Animal panted, not understanding the conversation.

"And it's best if no one's within 50 feet of him during that. You dig?"

"Okay, gotcha."

"Chief! Chief!" called Scooter from the stairs.

"It's a hit!" he pointed to his laptop. "Come quick!" Kermit ran up the stairs and closed the door. He heard a muffled roar of "HIT! HIT!" followed by ferocious pounding and crashing against a drum set.

"Look at this!" Scooter pointed to the YouTube video of the Mister Rogers announcement. "4,973 views so far! It's great!" he cheered, pumping his fist.

"Any comments from anyone?"

"There's loads of 'em! Let me just scroll here..." Scooter set his laptop on the table as the rest of the Muppets gathered around. Kermit hoped that somewhere in the list was 'The Best Neighbor', trying to reach them. The rehearsal video of the announcement played on YouTube. The Muppets watched Beaker pass by the camera by mistake, give an embarassed 'Meep!' and quickly duck out of sight. The rest of the announcement played as normal.

"Okay, here we go..."

Scooter swiped his finger on the laptop pad, carefully reading the list of comments. Some he read aloud.

"I remember the Muppetts! Ther funy!"

"BEAKER!"

"It's the Muppet Show!"

"Piggy! ROFL!"

"Is this a new Muppet Show coming out?"

"This is a joke. Mister Rogers was never on the Muppet Babies Show. "

"So Mister Rogerss wants the Muppets to have huis stuff? I don't get it." :S

"That's dumb. Mister Rogers should put his stuff in a museum instead of giving it to a kid."

"I like Mistr Rogers."

"Beeker's my fav"

"Mister Rogers. RIP. :-("

"I can't find this on the Muppet Wiki. Is this a fake video?"

"FONZIE BEAR! WOKA WOKA WOKA!"

"Reply to: FONZIE BEAR! WOKA WOKA WOKA! 'It's spelled 'Fozzy', stupid! Look it up!'"

"BEAKER BEAKER BEAKER LOL! I <3 BEAKER!"

"40 years ago there was a girl born in Paraguay. She comes to the village every full moon and looks for her true love. Send this video to at least 12 people in the next 10 minutes and the next person you see will look just like her AND you will fall in love! THIS IS NOT A JOKE!"

"BEAKER RULES!"

"If you look close, you can see Jim Hensen's arm. Pause it at 3:10."

"Check out the videos on my channel."

"BEAKER!"

"Beaker should go on Mister Rogers. he should be like the guest host or something."

"Yeah! Beaker and that doctor guy he hangs out witrh should do mister rogers neighberhood."

"dr teth?"

"Yea him. beaker rulz."

"Mr. Beeker's Nieghborhood! ROFL!"

The Muppets looked at each other. Beaker's head slowly slid down in embarrassment.

Scooter continued to scroll through dozens of comments. Every third comment or so either referred to Beaker or desperately needed to be proofread.

There were a few well-wishers "Good luck, Kermit!" and the like popped up here and there. It was nice, but there was not one helpful comment in the whole list.

"Well..." Kermit finally said. "we'll just have to keep watching this list until something useful comes up. Scooter, keep the page bookmarked and let me know if anyone makes a useful comment."

"Right, chief."

"In the meantime, we have a road trip to plan. We'll take off first thing in the morning. I'm going to take the drawing with us."

"But what if someone describes the picture and we need to show it to 'em?" asked Lew.

"I've thought of that. I'll take a digital picture of it, then have it blo--" he stopped in mid-sentence, saw Crazy Harry in the crowd, then corrected himself. "-enlarged to poster size. We'll make some copies. We'll leave one copy here and take the original and the rest with us."

After Kermit came back from the copy shop, Dr. Teeth got gas for the vehicle they would use on the trip. Since they had to keep the Electric Mayhem bus undercover, Pops let Dr. Teeth borrow the Happiness Hotel bus.

Light luggage was packed. The atlas was unnecessary. Kermit knew the way. KMUP played in the background that evening at the Boarding House. The announcement came on between programs. There were some visitors who had asked about the drawing, but none of the entries they described came close to the one Mister Rogers chose. Phone calls came too. Everyone who had called or visited politely obeyed the request 'no visits or calls after 9PM please' made at the end of the televised announcement.

Scooter continued to read the comments on the YouTube page while wincing at the horrible misspellings.

Before they knew it, it was 11:30PM. Everyone had shuffled off to bed. Even Scooter, tired as he was, closed his laptop for the night and went upstairs.

Kermit walked down the hall to his room. On the way past one dark room, he heard a small voice.

"Uncle Kermit?"

Kermit came inside to find his nephew in bed, but wide awake. His hands were clasped behind his head as he rested against his pillow.

"You're supposed to be asleep." Kermit whispered. A huge, hairy mass of fur snored in a dark corner. Sweetums tilted his head and continued his dream, breathing like a hippo with asthma.

"I know," replied Robin. "I'm just kinda worried."

Kermit sat down on the bed. Kermit was worried, too. Education meant so much to him. Helping kids...making them feel good about themselves. Mister Rogers did that too. He didn't want his dream to come to an end.

"Don't worry, Robin. We're going to New York in the morning. We have help from all our friends to find 'the Best Neighbor'."

Robin didn't look fully convinced.

"But...what if we don't find them?" Robin's eyes got that worried look again. That look tore Kermit up inside. He hated seeing Robin like that. There was only one thing he could think to say.

"We will find 'The Best Neighbor'." he said decidedly. "now just get your sleep and we'll talk more about it in the morning. We have to be up super early so we can get on the road." Kermit got up from the bed and gave Robin's arm a little pat. He left the bedroom and watched Robin snuggle in bed, finally content. Sweetums's lawnmower-like snores became muffled as he quietly shut the door.

Kermit went to bed and set his battery-operated radio alarm clock for 4AM. Everyone else had done the same. To be safe, he chose the option of the radio to wake him up instead of the regular beeping alarm. (It didn't always work). Sleepily, he turned one dial (thinking it was the station selector rather than the volume) all the way to the left, flopped down on his pillow and faded off to sleep.

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

3:59AM crept silently into the Muppet Boarding House like an unseen, velvet shadow. Peaceful, deep breathing came from each bedroom as the seconds ticked by. Kermit, comfortable and warm, smiled as he continued a dreamless sleep filled with complete and total relaxation. Serenity enveloped him as he took another deep breath. All was quiet. All was still. All was dark, save for the digital display on the alarm clock: 3:59...

...

"GOOOOOOOD MOORRRRNINNNG! IT'S TODD KAPOODLE'S MUSIC HOUR! BROUGHT TO YOU BY TODD KAPOODLE'S USED CAR EMPORIUM! AND NOW, HERE'S A SLIM WHITMAN FAVORITE PERFORMED BY CHARLIE FRUMP ON BAGPIPES WITH IZZY GLUNKERMAN ON TROMBONE!"

In the course of one second, Kermit's body shot upwards a full foot and landed on the floor with a crash. His eyes, now frozen wide with shock, tried to focus after being yanked out of his deep sleep.

"FWAWWW-WAAAWWWW-WUPPA-WUPPA! FAWWW-WUH-WUP-WUP-WUP!" "FLERRR-NEIIIEENIIIEEEE-NEEIIIIEEE-NEE--NEE-FLEERRRRRRR!" It was an unholy duet of musical instruments loud enough to wake all of Hensonville.

Kermit realized the noise came from the other side of the bed. Kermit's legs were tangled up in a wad of blankets. He tried to stand, but fell against the bed. As he finally stood and tried to run around the edge of the bed, one comforter corner wrapped around his leg. He tripped and fell down, this time flat on the floor.

"BLERR-NEE-NERRRR-FAWWWAWWWAAAH-WAHWAHWAH-WAUUUH-WAH-FLER-NEE-FLERRR!" screamed the radio. Kermit finally got up on his third try and pushed every button on his alarm clock to try to shut it off.

Stupid! Kermit thought to himself. I turned the volume all the way up by mistake instead of the station selector!

Kermit acted on the instinct of anyone who would be waken by bagpipes at 4AM and not thinking straight. Angrily, he flung the clock out the open window like a Frisbee. The duet of trombone and bagpipes faded as the clock bounced out into the street. A few seconds later, the street sweeper came along. It sucked up the clock, silencing it with a muffled, crunching honk.

Silence once more. Kermit's chest heaved. His head was pounding. His arms and legs still had that "warm sleepy feeling" in them, yet they were sweaty. He only now noticed the dull pain in his left flipper from where he stubbed it on the bedpost.

Kermit let his shoulders slump as he sat heavily down on the bed. He shook his head and looked out the window. Out in the street was a lone, rolling AA battery.

What happened? Now fully awake, Kermit shook his head again as the last bit of sleepiness left him.

Another noise made him turn around. It too was boisterous, but not nearly as annoying. Robin was in the doorway, nearly hopping with excitement.

"Uncle Kermit! It's time to get up!" he cheered.

"No kidding." Kermit mumbled as he rubbed his temples.

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

More to come soon.

Convincing John

 

[The Count]

This last chapter was a nice one. Was wondering when they'd remember the second address the drawing could've come from. Awaiting the next chapter for the great cameos. BTW: You might want to check ReneeLouvier's Sadies Stories for a route between Hensonville and SST. Post more soon!