The Best Neighbor

[The Count]

Well, he didn't say it as "see-same", but it was close as he said "seh-same" instead.

 

[Convincing John]

Oh, OK.

 

[Convincing John]

Chapter 13

"We're hours behind!" complained Frass.

Frass had been trying to do two things with the map. One of them was finding out where they were. The other was trying to fold the map. Frass was having plenty of trouble with both.

"Is that the turnpike up ahead?" asked Frass.

"Which turnpike are we supposed to take?"

"The--oh, now what?" growled Frass.

An orange sign zoomed by them, followed by cones lining the shoulder of the road.

"What is this?" grumbled Frass. "Stupid construction."

Soon, the rest of the traffic ahead slowed to a complete stop. The Maybach was forced in between a convoy of semis, pickup trucks and other traffic. Directly in front of the Maybach was a minivan. It was full of fighting, screaming kids and two frazzled parents. Max saw a half-eaten cookie sail out an open window and bounce off the side of a semi, followed by ferocious yelling from the mother before the window zipped up.

After a long five minutes, the Maybach began to crawl ahead at last. All the while, the van rocked and bounced as the kids wrestled. One of the parents (it was hard to see who) switched on the van's DVD player.

Max glanced back at Frass. His boss was trying to refold the map and follow the highway with his finger at the same time. It was a good thing he was occupied. Otherwise, he would have become even more enraged by what he saw:

Mister Rogers.

Max could see him in the van. He was there on the little screen, tying his right shoe. He was silent inside the Maybach, but Max could hear the words of the old song in his head. He even mouthed the words as Mister Rogers sang...

His stomach hurt.

He had to find Kermit.

In another minute, the Maybach crawled past another set of cones. Construction workers with STOP and SLOW signs stood on either side of the road. Max slowed to a stop again as the Maybach's windows became level with a pair of the workers.

"Max," barked Frass. "ask these guys if they can give us directions."

Max nodded and put the window down. "Uh, excuse me..."

An orange-skinned worker with eyes hidden by his unibrow and hardhat leaned forward.

"Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?" asked Max.

The worker nodded eagerly and opened his mouth to speak. As he did, another worker with lavender skin and a New York accent interrupted him.

"Aw sure! We know how to get to Sesame Street! Me and Sully's been there plenty a' times, right Sull? Yeah, sure we have! Now the best way to get there from here is to keep on goin' down this stretch until you see the next two exits, but don't take the second one unless you wanna go to Granny Fanny's Fruit Market. In that case if ya wanna, they got all kinda good stuff there. Apples, peaches, anything. So anyways, ya keep on goin' till you either hit that exit or the next one, then ya take one or the other, toin right or left, dependin' on which one you take. Eventually you'll come to a traffic light that don't woik 'cause me and Sully ain't fixed it yet. So anyways, ya go on past that light, troo the innastate a little ways, then you're gonna come to a crossroads after the one exit. You can go either left, right or forward...but don't go backwards, cause that's a one way, right Sull?" Biff elbowed Sully. "Heh heh. Little joke there. So anyways, when ya take that exit after that if you go left, try goin' past Sunny's Laundry. Then you'll be only a few blocks away from a real good burger joint me and Sull like. Remember that place Sull? Huh? Huh? Huh? Yeah, sure he remembers. Okay, so once you pass the burger joint, take a right then a left, then another left and then another right and then you're there. Just look for the humungo boid's nest."

Sully shook his head, looking as bewildered as Max.

"So ya got all that? Whoop." Biff looked up ahead and got a signal from the foreman. He turned his sign to 'SLOW'. "Have a nice day youse guys!"

Sully sighed silently and shook his head. Had Sully been given the chance to speak, he would have told them the easier route: take the the next exit.

But it was too late. The Maybach crawled right past the exit and its sign, which was obscured by a semi in the right lane. When the semi moved, the exit ramp sign clearly said "SESAME STREET 10 MILES". The Maybach was already gone.

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

Lips, Clifford, Janice, Zoot and Dr. Teeth made their way downstairs. They were inside the brownstone building on the first floor.

"Like, where should we start looking?" asked Janice. The group stood in the center of the hall, glancing at the identical row of doors on either side of them.

"We'll start at the beginnin'!" smiled Dr. Teeth, motioning to the first door in the hallway. "And when we'll come to the end, we'll stop." He raised his eyelids as he pointed to the last door.

Lips nodded and walked up to the first door. He knocked rapidly five times.

A half second later, the door swung forcefully outward, smashing Lips against the wall. A huge, blue monster with a long purple nose appeared in the doorway. his furry, black unibrow raised in surprise.

"Hiya!" he greeted them in a gravelly but friendly voice. "What can I do for ya?"

"G'mornin'!" grinned Dr. Teeth. "we're friends of Kermit's. We're lookin' for residents who might be able to help us with this perplexing problem our froggy friend is dealin' with."

Herry's unibrow lowered sympathetically. "Aww, Kermit's got a problem? Well, maybe we can help. Me and some of my friends are here on a play date. C'mon in."

Dr. Teeth entered Herry's apartment, followed by Janice, Clifford and finally Zoot. Out in the hallway, the door slowly closed. Lips, dazed by the blow, staggered around and shook his head repeatedly, trying to clear the dizziness.

Inside, at a plastic Playskool table, sat some of Herry's friends. Telly was pushing some triangles around on the tabletop to make a triangular design. Cookie Monster was helping Telly find more triangles by eating all the cookies in a jar that weren't triangles. Since they were all round, Cookie didn't mind eating them all. Zoe was chatting with Telly as he made a pattern with the pink and green traingles. As she did, she kept listening to a rock in a tutu on the table.

"Rocco says that--that--that the pink triangles look really cool!" she smiled.

"Hey, thanks!" said Telly with a nervous grin. "I was worried that it wouldn't look right at first, but I trust Rocco." Telly idly shifted a trio of spare triangles together at the tips as he noticed the visitors. "Oh, hi!"

"Like, hey!" said Janice. "We're like Kermit's friends and..."

"I like Kermit!" said Zoe and laughed squeakily.

"Me too, he give me lots of cookies!"

"So, like anyway, I'm Janice. This is Dr. Teeth, that's Clifford and right there's Zoot."

Zoot, not paying attention, glanced down at the design Telly had made.

"The Triforce...trippy." he mumbled.

"So, like anyway, we're helping Kermit find out who drew this picture. Does this look familiar to anyone? Someone sent it in to Mister Rogers like, ages ago, and we're like, tryin' to find out who drew it."

Clifford and Dr. Teeth unrolled a copy of the drawing and held it between them so everyone could see.

"Ooh! Oooh! Ooh!" Telly's eyes widened. He put his hands up a little and leaned forward. "That's...that's..."

Clifford, Dr. Teeth and Janice's hopes went up. They had found him! At last, they found 'The Best Neighbor'!

"That's your picture?" asked Dr. Teeth hopefully.

"Heh! I wish!" said Telly. "I was gonna say that's incredible! Look at that!" He zoomed in closer and pointed to the roof of Henrietta Pussycat's house. "Look! One, two, three sides and...one, two, three corners! That's a really cool triangle!"

Clifford made a face.

"It not me drawing." Cookie Monster shook his head. "There no cookies in it."

"It's not mine," Herry shook his head. "sorry."

"It's not mine either. How about you Rocco. Did you do this drawing?" Zoe put her ear to Rocco, listened, then shook her head. "Rocco says it isn't his either."

Clifford's expression stayed the same as he watched Zoe talk to a rock...a rock wearing...

"Now hold on a minute. Why's that rock wearin' a tutu?"

Zoot leaned in just as Zoe did. He listened carefully to Rocco, which was cupped in Zoe's hands. Zoot listened some more, nodded in understanding, and stood upright to face Clifford.

"He don't have no other pants." Zoot explained.

"Tell me about it." Herry agreed, looking at his own legs.

"And I thought things were weird at the theater." sighed Clifford.

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

Out in the arbor, another citizen was being questioned by Link. Link wanted to look important, so he had changed into his police officer's uniform he wore during "Bear on Patrol".

"Okay, so you say you didn't do the drawing..." Link carefully wrote that down on his notepad.

The interviewee shook his head.

"And you say you haven't seen anyone else who knows anything about it."

The interviewee cocked his head as if in contemplation, then shook his head again.

"All right," Link slowly wrote some more. "And how would you say the rest of the neighborhood will be in cooperating with helping us?"

"Rough."

Link nodded. "I suppose. It's the city after all. You can expect some rough areas." Link closed his notebook and shook hands with the interviewee. "Well, thank you very much for your cooperation. What did you say your name was?"

"Wuff! Wuff!"

"That's right, 'Wuff-Wuff'. Well, have a nice day, Mr. Wuff-Wuff."

Link tucked the notepad in his pocket and strutted away, full of himself. Meanwhile, Barkley watched him go. He shook his head again and tried to scratch a flea before clomping off to the park.

If Link had paused just a moment longer, he would have heard music coming from the top floor window.

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

Gonzo walked down the hall as Camilla strutted along beside him. At the end of the hall, they heard slow, cautious notes being played. The door to the apartment was open.

"Wanna try here, honey?" asked Gonzo.

"Bawk-bawk." Camilla shrugged her wings.

"All right then, let's see who lives down here. It kinda sounds like Bob practicing."

When Gonzo and Camilla peeked in the apartment, they saw the place decorated in 1970's harvest gold wallpaper. Off-white curtains (looking about the same age) hung around the window frames. A framed black and white picture of Joe Raposo hung on the wall. Raposo's smirking face appeared to watch a baby grand piano in the middle of the room. On top of the piano sat a blunt pencil, a small glass of water, a bottle of Extra-Strength Excedrin, and a grim-looking bust of Beethoven. The bust frowned at the pianist.

The pianist: he was a tall, skinny man with horn-rimmed glasses and frazzled brown hair. Even from back at the doorway, Gonzo and Camilla could see what looked like sheet music in front of him, except every other note or lyric had been furiously scribbed out and rewritten. The pianist played cautiously, his pointed nose critically following every note.

"to..." the pianist paused. "to..." he played the same note gently two or three times. Without warning, the pianist became enraged. His fists clenched as he threw back his head and wailed in despair.

"OH, I'LL NEVER GET THIS RIGHT! NEVER! OHH!"

The pianist slammed his forehead down on the piano keys. The sudden pounding of several notes, all off-key, reverberated around the room. The bust of Beethoven appeared to wince in response.

As the pianist sobbed miserably on the keys, Gonzo could no longer contain himself.

"That was BRILLIANT!" he cheered. Gonzo rushed over to the musician like a bullet, his eyes wide open in excitement. "You've GOTTA teach me to play like that!"

Don Music, his head spinning from anguish and pain, sat up dizzily. Between the usual stars and blurs he often saw, he now noticed a blue face with a hooked nose and bulging eyes. Next to the face was...a chicken? Don shook his head.

"That was a performance art masterpiece!" Gonzo gushed. "Perfection incarnate!"

Don finally found his voice. "Why, good heavens! Who are you?"

"Apparently, a BIG fan of yours! Can you teach me to play like that?" Gonzo looked at the keys excitedly, mentally figuring how many he could hit with his head at once.

Camilla clucked a little sigh and lightly pecked Gonzo on the arm.

"What is it, honey?"

"Buck buck buckaw-baw buck buckaw."

"Oh, I forgot!" Gonzo showed the drawing to Don Music, explained who he was and why Kermit had brought him here.

"You mean they're searching Sesame Street right now?" asked Don.

"Yeah, and we gotta ask as many people as we can here."

"And they haven't found who it is yet?"

"Well, not yet...but..."

"But if they haven't found that person by now, they'll probably never find them! Never! Never! NEVER!"

Don pounded his head on the piano with the force of a sledgehammer and cried. A dozen off-key notes echoed horribly around the room.

"That is SO COOL!" Not being able to stand it any longer, Gonzo slammed his head down on the keys to create a second collection of loud, mismatched notes. He sat up to enjoy the dizziness and dull pain.

"Wow! Kermit was right! There is something for everyone on this street!"

"Oh brother," groaned the bust of Beethoven. "one of these crummy pianists was bad enough..."

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

More to come.

Convincing John

 

[The Count]

*Rejoices at the wonder that is this chapter. *Drasticly hopes more gets posted soonish.

 

[redBoobergurl]

I loved this chapter! And I especially loved the appearances of characters we don't see much at all anymore - Biff and Sully, Don Music, Barkley! This was great! I also loved Gonzo's banging on the piano, I laughed out loud, seriously! More please!

 

[dwmckim]

Great chapter- lots of classic pairings - especially Gonzo with Don Music.

"He don't have no other pants." Zoot explained.

"Tell me about it." Herry agreed, looking at his own legs.

Nice little dig at how Herry seems to be the only monster that wears pants (or at least when he's illustrated!)

 

[Convincing John]

Now that we are getting a little closer to Halloween and (here in the Midwest anyway) we're getting a lot of chilly, dark overcast days, it seems like the beginning of this chapter fits right in with this time of the year...

Chapter 14

Thanks to Biff's "directions", Max and Frass were even more lost than they were an hour ago. The interstate stretched onward until Frass barked at Max to take this exit, then that exit then to follow a suspiciously empty highway.

"AAAGH! We're lost AGAIN!" yelled Frass. "I don't even know what highway this is! Where are we?" Frass grabbed the map again and traced a greasy finger up and down the labyrinth of lines.

Max knew better than to answer. He just drove, then took exits and turned when his boss told him to. He knew they were lost, but just how lost became even more evident with each passing mile. The two of them saw endless, lumpy hills, distant farmhouses, some barns and not much else. Eventually, there was nothing to see.

Except the line.

It was a strange, jet black, vertical line about four foot tall and no wider than a pencil. It stood upright on the shoulder of the blank highway. Just beyond it was the entrance to a deserted gravel road. There were no trees, no buildings, nothing to mark that a human being had ever set foot here. Dying, untidy clumps of grass rippled miserably in a light but chilling wind. The colorless overcast sky looked like a vast, suspended weight about to fall. It stretched to meet the desolate horizon, giving the impression that the end of the sky could be reached at an eventual, claustrophobic point against the ground.

"Sh-should we turn around?" asked Max. It felt like the temperature inside the car had dropped twenty degrees.

"Yeah," Frass grumbled. "Up here at this gravel road next to that...line thing." Mad as he was, Frass began to feel uncomfortable.

The Maybach slowed down. They expected the line to be part of a dismantled sign post or some remnant of a wire fence. The car passed the line, which gave both Max and Frass an eerie feeling. It was as if a booby trap lay ahead.

"Just...just turn around and let's go." Frass answered nervously. He wasn't sure why, but he had the feeling he was being watched.

Max nodded, turned the Maybach around and prepared to leave the empty area.

"Hopefully when we get back on the road, we can get unlost." Max remarked as they passed the line.

Suddenly, both Frass's and Max's windows went down without anyone touching the buttons. The engine died, as did the lights behind the instrument panel. The doors locked automatically and the headlights extinguished a half-second later.

"Did you do that, Max?" asked Frass anxiously.

"No sir!"

"Get us outta here!" Frass barked.

Max pressed the buttons, but the windows stayed down. He tried to start the car, but nothing happened. The doors, normally able to be opened from the inside while locked, would not budge. Max then glanced out the driver's open window. Something was moving.

It was the line.

The line was growing, shrinking and growing again. It was now, quite plainly, not rooted to the ground, but held aloft on its own accord. Max and Frass saw that the line had something round and bright red at the bottom of it. The top of the line was now being held taught by a disembodied, purple hand. The line once again stretched taught, and something stepped out of the line, as if from another dimension.

It was loosely humanoid, but bore more resemblance to a nightmarish cousin from a "Yellow Submarine" character created by Salvador Dali. The humanoid walked spiderlike on thin legs as it walked in a semi circle. Its wide, pudgy lavender face never looked away from the car. A faded, dark green top hat balanced evenly on its head as the humanoid walked. Unseen eyes watched Max and Frass from behind glinting sunglasses. Its mouth was stretched in a permanent, unsettling Chesire Cat grin. Max could count at least a dozen teeth, each one the size and shape of a Saltine cracker.

As it walked it showed off its formal attire: a bizarre, ruffled, green tuxedo with yellow spats. It swung the line, which was now revealed to be nothing more than a yo-yo.

When it spoke, its voice was somewhere between a raspy version of Darth Vader and Dizzy Gillespie. It spoke only one sentence to them as it circled and swung its yo-yo.

"Try to remember everything you pass. When you go back, make the first thing the last."

The humanoid let out a boisterous laugh, swung its yo-yo around in a series of quick, complicated circles, then made it "sleep" at an odd angle. As if from an unseen gravitational pull, the being was sucked into the airborne yo-yo like a black hole. As its arm (with top hat in hand) vanished, the yo-yo did as well. There was a dark, star-shaped flash where the yo-yo was, then nothing.

The being's voice echoed overhead, calling to Max and Frass from its unknown dimension in the bleak, overcast sky.

"YEAH!"

All of a sudden, the car windows went up by themselves. The headlights snapped back on as the engine roared to life. Without further instruction, Max floored the accelerator. The last thing he saw in the rear view mirror (aside from a lot of gravel dust) was a boy with an afro. He was riding a tricycle in the opposite direction, clearly confident that he was not lost.

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

Fozzie didn't know what to do. He held the copy of the drawing in his arm. He was in the hallway inside the familiar brownstone...alone with his worries.

What if he asked and no one knew where the picture came from? What if he bothered someone and they got angry? Fozzie knew that happened here sometimes. What if someone just slammed the door in his face because they thought he was a door-to-door salesbear? What if he...

Enough.

Fozzie squared his shoulders. It was time to be brave. It was time to do his duty! He had to help Kermit. He had to! He had to find that kid! He had to do this...for Mister Rogers.

Cautiously, trying to keep his fear at bay, Fozzie walked up to a random door and knocked.

"After all," he thought aloud. "everyone is usually friendly here. There's no...need...to...be..." the door opened.

Fozzie, tall as he was, had to look up to see the face.

It was a pig; the biggest, strongest, robust-looking pig he had ever seen. He was dressed in an imposing, black leather jacket and wearing a matching biker cap. He said nothing as he stared at Fozzie with his half-shadowed eyes. Except for his slightly flaring nostrils, he didn't move. Fozzie could see the pig's huge fingers gripping the door frame.

"I'm--ah--ahmmah--mahm..." Fozzie stammered. He wished he had his teddy. He wished he was with Kermit. He wished he were anywhere but here. Fozzie's eyes widened as he dabbed his rapidly sweating forehead with his tie. His quivering throat gave a nervous gulp.

To Fozzie's horror, another pig, followed by a third peered over the first one's shoulder, doing bicep curls with barbells. Fozzie could hear the conversation of a few more in the background.

"I'll...just..." Fozzie pointed nervously down the hall. "...go."

"Wait a minute." said the first pig. "I'll be right back. Stay there."

Fozzie's knees were too shaky to run. Otherwise he would have. He saw the pig turn around. He covered his face with his hat fearfully as the pig turned to face him again.

Click!

He knew it! He thought for sure he'd hear the BANG! next and then there he'd be on the floor: Fozzie the Bear Rug!

"Can I get your autograph?"

When Fozzie chanced a peek between his fingers, he saw the source for the click. It was a pen. The pig was handing him a pen with an autograph book.

"A...a...autograph?" stammered Fozzie.

"Normally we don't care for signatures at our place, but for you we'll make an exception!" wisecracked the second pig.

Fozzie took the pen with slightly shaky hands and signed. "Heh heh," he chuckled nervously. "I didn't know that anyone around here has even heard of me."

"Of course we have," said the third pig. "we're fans of yours! Hey, can I get an autograph, too?"

"S-sure!" Fozzie replied. His confidence slowly grew as the pigs, all of whom now wanted their own Fozzie autograph, looked for pens.

"I got a Sharpie!"

"Can you sign my Season 3 Box set?"

"I don't have something for Fozzie to sign!"

"Here, use this."

Questions arose among the crowd.

"Ask him if he knows who performed Astoria!"

"Does he know how Frank's doing?"

"Why do they make him wear that dumb blue scarf in some pictures?"

Before Fozzie knew it, he was signing all kinds of things: a printed fanzine from the 1990's, some Muppet DVDs, some Muppet books and for some reason Fozzie couldn't guess, a picture of Bea Arthur.

"Is there anything we can do for you?" asked one of the pigs.

"Oh!" Fozzie forgot all about the drawing he had dropped in the hall. "there is something I wanted to ask--I--I mean i-if you don't mind."

"Not at all," replied the second pig. "Whatcha got there?"

Fozzie handed the drawing over and explained why he had come. The pigs passed the drawing around, but politely told him they had no idea who drew it.

"Hey thanks for the autographs, Fozzie," nodded the first pig. "We like you. We just wish they wouldn't make so many Ugly Toys of you."

Fozzie just nodded. He had no idea what the pig meant by that.

"Well, thank you for your help." Feeling like his old self again, he pointed to pig after pig. "and thank you and thank you and thank you, Mr. Pig!"

"Make sure to drop by the Muppet Wiki sometime, okay?"

"Uh...okay, um, I gotta go visit some other people now."

"Nice seeing ya!" the pigs waved as Fozzie turned to go. As he did, his ankle scuffed against a loose nail jutting from the baseboard. As Fozzie left, the first pig bent down. He picked something off the nail head and held it up for the others to see.

"Look everyone! I finally found it! An original clip of fur!"

Confused, Fozzie knocked on the door a little way down the hall. A pink faced girl with yellow braids and wearing a blue gingham dress opened the door. When the first pig saw her, he made a second discovery.

"Hey! I told you guys! Betty Lou does exist!" he called to his friends as he closed the apartment door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This part of the street was vastly different from the regular brownstone building...or any other part of the street for that matter. At the end of a hallway, not far from the apartment where the leather-clad pigs lived, was a door.

It wasn't made of wood like the others. It was made from a papery substance decorated with swirling crayon designs. A vague, round scribble on one side served as a doorknob.

The door, as if it were alive, began to stretch and wobble back and forth to a tune. It opened up to reveal an apartment composed with the same decor. Everything inside looked like a giant coloring book page decorated by a three year old.

It was decorated by a three year old. A red, furry ball of energy, he jumped around his apartment as he sang his favorite song.

"Elmo is so happy to see you! Oh, and so is Dorothy! Say hello, Dorothy!"

A goldfish swam around in its bowl, the only object in the room not coated in crayon swirls.

"Guess what Elmo's thinking about today? Ya-tah tah TAAAAAAH!"

A colorful closet door stretched and wobbled.

"C'mon, closet! Open up for Elmo!" Elmo took the doorknob and pulled. It was an admirable feat, considering the doorknob was drawn on and gave Elmo nothing to grab onto. As the door swung open, an avalanche of crayons, pens, markers and different types of paper tumbled out. Elmo's head popped out of the pile and he spit out a few crayons.

"Elmo thinking about drawing today! You know, drawing pictures!" A brief montage of kids drawing pictures went through Elmo's imagination. Some used crayons, some used markers and one girl used a hilighter to make a picture of a smiling sun.

"Wow! Drawing is cool! Now, where can Elmo find out even more about drawing? Oh! Elmo know! Elmo will ask Mr. Noodle! Oh Shade!"

A window shade wobbled and stretched at the corners as Elmo gave a tug. When the shade zipped up, Elmo stepped back in shock.

"Hey! You aren't Mr. Noodle!"

"No, Mr. Noodle stepped out for a few minutes." said Statler.

"But he didn't tell us where he was going!" chuckled Waldorf.

"What are you doing in Elmo's World?" demanded Elmo.

"Not having fun, that's for sure!" cracked Statler.

Elmo frowned as the old geezers laughed.

"This place looks like it was decorated by Jackson Pollock," said Statler.

"And funded by Crayola!" finished Waldorf.

"C'mon you guys!" pleaded Elmo.

The computer and its stand suddenly began to bounce around the room. "Elmo has mail! Elmo has mail! Elmo has mail!" Elmo chased after the rouge computer as Statler and Waldorf looked on.

"Now that's what I call high-speed internet!" Waldorf remarked.

When Elmo finally caught up with the computer and clicked the mouse, an image came on the screen.

"Hey! Elmo has email from...huh? What's that?" Elmo leaned in and read titles off the screen. "Make Money Fast Now?" "Lybian Lottery Winner?", "Lose Up to 200 lbs in 2 weeks?", "Rolex Watches Cheap--Click Here? Time Share Deals--Join Now?"

"Elmo has spam! Elmo has spam! Elmo has spam!" yelled Statler.

"It's still better than the kind in a can!" replied Waldorf.

The hecklers laughed as Elmo clenched his fists. Just then, the computer coughed and sneezed.

"What's going on with Computer?" asked Elmo. The screen displayed a brief popup, then something automatically downloaded from his email. When it finished, the computer coughed again and its screen turned blue with lines of white gobbledygook text.

"Looks like your computer's got a bug!" said Statler.

"Big deal, I got one too." complained Waldorf.

"What do you mean?"

"Elmo's been bugging me ever since we arrived! Doh ho ho ho ho ho ho ho!"

Frustrated, Elmo turned away from the computer and tried to regain his cheery self.

"Hey--hey, Red!" called Statler.

Elmo turned around, clearly annoyed.

"Elmo's name isn't 'Red'. Elmo's name is Elmo!"

"Whatever. Say, you know who drew this? It was at our house and we're helping the frog find out who drew it."

Elmo looked at the copy of the drawing in Statler's hand.

"Hmmm...no, Elmo didn't draw it. Nope."

"Good, now can we get out of here?" complained Waldorf.

"No, no wait! Elmo can ask someone else!"

"Oh no!" Statler and Waldorf groaned together.

"Elmo will ask a baby!" Elmo leaned down next to a baby sitting on the floor. "Baby? Did you do the big drawing with the tree in the middle?" The baby stared blankly ahead and suddenly put its fingers in its mouth. "Oh thank you, baby!" Elmo gave the baby a kiss and stood up, giggling.

"So what did he say?" asked Waldorf.

"Who?" asked Elmo.

"The baby!" answered Waldorf.

"The baby said...uhh..." Elmo paused. "the baby said he doesn't know."

"Right." nodded Statler sarcastically.

"Does Mr. Old Man want to watch the Drawing Channel with Elmo?"

"I'd rather watch test patterns than look at anything else in this place!" said Statler.

"Yeah, they're better organized!" said Waldorf.

"Better music, too!" replied Statler.

"With much more educational content! Doh ho ho ho ho ho ho ho!" they finished together.

Elmo scowled. "Okay, that does it! Mr. Old Men can't play in Elmo's World anymore! Go home!"

"Uh oh! We better go." said Statler sarcastically.

"Yeah," replied Waldorf. "he doesn't look too tickled about us being here! Doh ho ho ho ho ho ho!"

Fuming, Elmo yanked the shade down as the old hecklers retreated in the distance. He could still hear them as their voices faded away.

"What did you get out of visiting this place?" asked Waldorf.

"Just ask a baby." answered Statler.

"But the baby says nothing."

"And that's what I got out of this place! NOTHING! Doh ho ho ho ho ho ho ho!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More to come.

Convincing John

 

[redBoobergurl]

Ok the bit with the Tough Pigs - too funny! It took me awhile to figure out where that was going and then I realized it was an homage to Tough Pigs the fan site! Fantastic! The bits with Elmo and Statler and Waldorf were hilarious as well. Keep it coming!

 

[The Count]

Also... The funky yo-yo master! Nice nod to Old School SST, with just the fright touch of scare. Please post more when possible.

 

[dwmckim]

You really outdid yourself with this chapter...i was grinning all throughout parts 1 & 2 as the realizations of what each part was referencing was sinking in (wonder if Biff and Sully's directions caused the orginal boy's trip to that destination!) but i was laughing hysterically at Statler & Waldorf's sojourn to Elmo's World! Kind of how Elmo In Grouchland worked for me since you had Elmo's sappiness neutralized with the grouches to balance things out, having Elmo's sweet mixed with S&W's sour just made for all sorts of hysterical possibilities which you totally explored beautifully - that was a comic masterpiece and one i'd totally tune in to see (Elmo's computer delivering spam emails and popups was worth the price of admission!)