The Best Neighbor

[redBoobergurl]

I was right! I had a hunch from awhile back when Floyd and Animal really didn't go with them and were kind of just in the background, but you did a great job of keeping it a mystery! So now that they know, I'm curious to see what happens next!

 

[The Count]

*Hands Beth the $5 we bet... Well, I'm out. Thought it was Max. Oh well... More please?

 

[Convincing John]

Chapter 24

The news spread through the Boarding House like wildfire. Downstairs, shouts of joy, cheering and bouncing penguins filled the air. Animal! Animal was 'The Best Neighbor'! It was chaos downstairs, but a good chaos. Animal was now downstairs in the middle of everyone. With Floyd's suggestion, rather than hug Animal or shake hands to congratulate him, they all said "Good drummer!" to him and gave him as much food as they could find. Animal loved being at the center of attention, even though he had no idea what was going on. Floyd read his slightly confused expression.

"We're gonna help Fred, man!"

Animal looked around, expecting to see the gray-haired man in a sweater.

"Okay!" nodded Animal enthusiastically. "Help Fred! Help Fred!"

"All right everyone...everybody..." Kermit started. "everybody..." the chatter didn't stop.

"QUI-ET!" bellowed Animal. Everyone fell silent. "Thank you." he panted.

"Thank you Animal," said Kermit. "now, even though we've found 'The Best Neighbor', we still have to stop Edd Frass from tearing down that building. We'll have to get a city official to make things legal. Scooter, contact City Hall and tell them we need someone here right away."

"Right, chief!" Scooter pumped his fist and within a minute he had his laptop open and was on the Hensonville City Hall Instant Message board.

"Next, we're going to make sure that even though the warehouse now belongs under the protection of Floyd and Animal, we need to make sure Frass won't pull anything. We know he won't give up without a fight. I'm going to call Max and tell him the good news."

"What about the local news station?" asked Rowlf.

"Good idea, we'll let them know and also KMUP. We won't need to run the ad anymore. Someone call Max, all right?" Kermit saw Lew Zealand rush to the phone.

"Uh, chief?" asked Scooter. "I've got some good news and some bad news."

"Can we have the good news first?" asked Fozzie a little nervously.

"The good news is there is one city official who can--" Scooter read off the message board. "'transfer the ownership of Warehouse 57-G from Edd Frass to the individual Fred Rogers selected.'"

"So what's the bad news?" asked Gonzo.

Scooter read off the screen again. "'My office closes in fifteen minutes and I will be out of my office tomorrow morning for a dental appoinment. I will return at 9:00AM.'"

Kermit's eyes bulged in worry. "Tomorrow morning at 9 will be too late! According to Max, after 8:00AM tomorrow, Frass will own the building no matter what unless we stop him. Our only chance is to get to City Hall before it closes!"

Scooter hurriedly typed "We R on our way!" into the chat box.

"Let's get the bus!" Dr. Teeth shouted.

"I have an idea," said Fozzie. "we'll split up! That way we'll be sure to get there in time!"

"An excellent suggestion!" said Bunsen. "I'll fire up the Nintendo Meep and Beaker will be there in a jiffy!" Beaker moaned as Bunsen led him away.

"And I'll get there with Sweetums!" cried Robin. "Sweetums knows all the shortcuts!"

"Let's not waste any more time then," said Kermit. "Floyd, you make sure to hold onto that drawing and Animal's chain tightly. It's our only hope."

Within thirty seconds, the Muppets had crammed out of the house, leaving behind only a small cloud of dust, some loose chicken feathers and a still snoring Statler and Waldorf.

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

Residents of Hensonville were used to seeing the Happiness Hotel bus traveling around town from time to time, but never this quickly. With the speed and urgency of an ambulance, the bus roared down the street, barely stopping for stop signs and traffic lights. As best as he could on this bumpy ride, Scooter kept in correspondence with City Hall on the IM board.

"We R coming. Please do not close." typed Scooter.

A distant explosion caused Scooter to glance out of the bus window. Something in the direction of the Boarding House boomed. It was a cannon blast. A flailing figure whooped with delight as its hook-nosed silhouette appeared momentarily against the autumn sunset.

Beaker, against his will, was leaping, crouching and running with the help of his ankle, wrist and other Nintendo Meep components. Back at the Boarding house, Bunsen experimentally poked at the controller buttons while glancing at the image of Mario. As Mario went down a pipe, he entered a water level. As he did, the Nintendo Meep straps forced Beaker to jump into an open manhole and swim through the sewer.

Not far away, Robin cheered Sweetums on from his perch in his hair. Robin held on tight as Sweetums ran though backyards, yelled apologies as he crashed through fences and raced downtown. Sweetums saw someone opening the front door to their home. Before she could enter, Sweetums raced inside.

"'Scuse me!" he thundered through the house, jumped over furniture, through the kitchen, bellowed "smells good!" and barged out the back door. "Dinner's ready!" he yelled to the people in the backyard as he crashed through their picket fence.

A group of people stood all in a row in the town square. It was a wedding party, lining up for a photo. The baker carefully wheeled in an elaborate wedding cake behind them on a little table. The wedding party posed as the professional photographer made sure everyone was in frame.

"Okay, hold it..."

In front of the wedding party, the manhole cover suddenly popped open and Beaker skyrocketed through the air. Everyone stepped back in shock as Beaker bounced and ran away, screaming and wailing. In desperation, the baker wheeled the cake backwards. He sighed with relief as he examined at the unharmed cake.

Everyone lined up again.

"Okay, hold it..." repeated the photographer.

A few people in the wedding party looked up. The ring bearer dropped his pillow as he gawked into the sky. Something was speeding directly toward them with the force of a meteor. The crowd scattered again as Gonzo screamed and plummeted to the earth. The baker quickly pulled the cake out of the way as Gonzo's parachute unfurled. He landed squarely on the ring bearer's pillow without a scratch.

"Aw, rats!" complained Gonzo as he looked behind him at the deflated parachute. "I packed the parachute instead of the silverware!" He sighed. "So much for my entrance being a tribute to Wile E. Coyote."

"Will you..." sputtered the photographer. "would someone get this...this...thing...out of here?"

As a gun powder-scented Gonzo moved out of camera shot, the wedding party lined up again.

Just then, the crowd heard the roar of a huge vehicle approaching. Everyone ran away as the Happiness Hotel bus rumbled through the town square doing 50mph. It skidded and screeched to a halt in front of the Hensonville City Hall Building. The penguin cart swerved behind it.

"SORR-EE!" bellowed Animal as the bus came to a stop.

Luckily no one was injured. The baker had wheeled the cake out of the way yet again just in the nick of time.

"I'm getting off the street!" he yelled. "I'm going to carry this cake to the reception hall in the City Hall myself before anything happens to it!" The baker hoisted the cake off the cart and carefully ascended the stairs.

"We only got two mintes left before the city official leaves, chief!" Scooter yelled for the bus. In the meantime, the photographer had the wedding party gather on the steps to avoid any more mishaps.

"Can't--can't you guys just hold it for just a minute?" asked Kermit. "We kinda need to get through. It's urgent."

The photographer glared at Kermit. "NO!" he yelled in a snotty voice. "You hooligans aren't messing up any more of my pictures! I don't care what you have to do. No one's going anywhere until--"

"Until I let go of this cake!" the baker proclaimed from the safety of the stairs.

"Right!" the photographer snarled at Kermit. "Now, everyone on the stairs, okay, that's good.." the wedding party gathered on the steps. The baker was behind everyone on the top stair, proudly holding up the wedding cake.

Kermit watched as light after light in City Hall flickered off, his hope flickering out along with them. They would be too late.

No. After everything they had been through...

"I'm gonna count now," announced the photographer from behind the camera. "everyone ready in five...four......three......two......." the wedding party smiled as the Muppets from the bus looked on helplessly.

Suddenly, the double doors at the top of the stairs burst open with the force of a battering ram. One door slammed solidly into the baker's back. The baker fell forward and slammed into one of the groomsmen. The cake lurched forward. With an inevitable, gloppy smash, it landed directly onto the bride's head. Frosting splattered everywhere. Bits of cake and the remains of the third tower (with the cake topper) hit the groom, who fell onto a bridesmaid, who fell onto another bridesmaid, whose foot tripped the ring bearer, who grabbed another groomsmen's leg. Within three seconds, everyone was toppling forward, crashing into each other like dominoes until the wedding party was a jumble of pastry-coated arms and legs. The baker wound up at the bottom of the stairs, curled up in the fetal position and sobbing as the bride repeatedly smacked him over the head with her bouquet.

At the top of the stairs, in the open doorway, stood Sweetums. Robin clung to the top of his shaggy friend's head and laughed.

"And that's...a...song...of...one!" he sang at the top of his lungs.

"Sweetums!" cheered Kermit. "You got in!"

"Yup!" said Sweetums proudly.

"But all the lights are off inside. What about the city official?"

Sweetums lifted up a pointy-nosed, beady eyed man by the back of his suit collar.

"Ya mean him? I told him we'd wait till ya got here," Sweetums held up the man to eye level. "Right?"

"Y-y-yeah..." stammered the man, who Kermit recognized as Inspector LaBrea. "I-I...I said...yeah...we...w-wuh...we'd w-wait."

"Then let's get goin'!" cheered Kermit. "C'mon Floyd! Bring Animal! Scooter, get that laptop in here! Get the drawing! We don't have much time!"

The Muppets trampled past the wedding party. Floyd had a tough time as he pulled on Animal's chain. Women and food were two of Animal's pastimes. Seeing women covered with food drove him completely bonkers.

"WOMAN! WOMAN! CAKE! WOMAN CAKE! WOMAN CAKE!" the bridesmaids screamed and ran as Animal strained on his collar. With Sweetums's help, they pulled Animal inside City Hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few blocks away, Frass watched from the distance as the demolition crew unloaded explosives from their truck. The crew worked, oblivious to the artifacts inside the warehouse or the beady eyed man who watched them approvingly.

Frass' mouth stretched in a horrid, cavity-laden smile.

Everything was going as planned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Uh huh..uh hmmm..." Inspector LaBrea was at his desk, carefully examining the drawing with a magnifying glass. He then studied the carboard mailing tube from end to end as though it were a rare artifact from an archeological site.

"Hmmm..."

He looked up at the crowd in front of him.

"So you claim that this Fred Rogers left the job of guardian to his artifacts, or as you call it 'The Best Neighbor', to whoever made this...drawing?"

"That's right--" Kermit began, but he was cut off from the sound of the office door opening. Two more people entered. They looked winded from their bicycle rides, but otherwise looked grateful to be there.

"Are we...(huff huff) late?" asked Max, clutching his side.

"We got here..." Mr. McFeely paused to cough, "...as soon as we could."

Inspector LaBrea frowned slightly at the two newcomers.

"Listen, my office should be closed by now, you'll have to come back tomorrow afternoon or make an appointment."

"They're with us," explained Kermit. "Anyway--"

"Do you have any proof that this Fred Rogers chose this drawing? I can't just verify any old claim unless you have some kind of proof."

"That's where I come in," explained Mr McFeely, retrieving something from his bag. "here is the original videotape with 'The Best Neighbor' on it, which has the same announcement being played on KMUP, the Speedy Delivery tracking number leading the package to Mr. Frog's name and the letter Fred signed personally, entrusting me to help him with finding 'The Best Neighbor'." For good measure, Scooter put his laptop on the desk and played the announcement from the YouTube link.

Inspector LaBrea looked everything over, then glanced at the drawing again.

"This is the one Fred Rogers chose."

"That's correct." replied Mr. McFeely.

"And the one who drew it is..."

Animal panted. Inspector LaBrea felt the hot breath and pointed a little cautiously to the drummer.

"That's right, man." nodded Floyd.

"I have decided that this child, with the help of their grown-up friend, will be in charge of keeping 'Mister Rogers Neighborhood' on the air and keeping the tapes, props, puppets and sets safe. This child is the one whom I have chosen to be 'The Best Neighbor'." said Fred Rogers from the laptop screen.

Inspector LaBrea looked at Floyd.

"Everything fits. All I need is your verbal agreement that this Mister...Animal...did the drawing and that you will help guard the facility as Fred Rogers requested."

Floyd nodded solemnly.

"I swear, man. On my Mono, peel job Beatles Butcher Album, I swear, man. Animal did it and I'll help the dude out."

"All right, then," Inspector LaBrea selected a file from his computer, altered it, then printed it out. "this is the document which will declare the warehouse yours and guardians of its contents infinitely once you pay the fee."

"Fee?" asked Kermit. "What fee?"

"Well, it's standard procedure for these types of warehouses. Upkeep, taxes, things like that. We need the fee paid at the time of ownership transaction. Under the circumstances, I can get you a rather sizeable discount," the inspector paused to peck some numbers into his calculator. "to own the building indefinitely and maintain upkeep on it...would be..." (peck peck). "yeah. $4,400.52."

"Forty-four hundred dollars?" repeated Kermit in shock.

"And 52 cents." finished the inspector.

"B-but we don't have..." began Kermit.

"Well, I am sorry Mr. Frog," shrugged Inspector LaBrea, but until the fee is paid, the warehouse will still technically belong to Mr. Frass. I can't legally sign it over to Mister Animal or anyone else until then. Yes, you do have the proper...shall we say, documents, but the fee is part of the legal transaction. There is nothing more I can do for you."

For the second time, Kermit's heart sank. They had once again come so close, only to be stopped yet again.

"Here."

The Muppets turned around. A voice at the back of the room spoke again.

"Here."

Behind Sweetums and next to Mr. McFeely someone spoke. Kermit couldn't believe his eyes. There was Max, his hand outstretched towards Inspector LaBrea. In his hand was the five thousand dollars he had won at Big Mean Carl's Casino.

"I want to help, too. I won this at a casino and..." Max paused, trying not to look at the incredulous faces all around him. "I'm sick of Frass and...like I said, I promised Kermit I'd help. So here. I'll pay the fee." The money made a light 'plop' as the bills hit the table. Any remaining skepticism towards Max from the crowd vanished right then and there.

"Well well, then. This takes matters into a whole other perspective." said the inspector.

"It certainly does..." said Kermit, still not believing what he saw.

The inspector put the money away in a cash box, gave Max his change and wrote up a receipt. He then pushed the printout across the table for Floyd and Animal to sign.

"Just sign this and Mister Animal will be 'The Best Neighbor' along with your assistance, Mr. Pepper."

Animal looked at the document, confused.

"He wants your autograph man," explained Floyd. "autograph, right there...for Fred." Floyd pointed to an 'X' at the bottom of the page.

"Au-to-graph..." Animal concentrated as he gripped the pen in his fist. He scrawled a lopsided but legible 'Animal' along the line. Floyd gently took the pen from him, signed below on a second line and dated it.

"Very good," Inspector LaBrea took the document back. "and now, to notarize it." He took an old fashioned embosser out of a desk drawer and placed the corner of the document under it.

"In the name of the city of Hensonville, Mr. Animal is hereby presented with the title of 'The Best Neighbor' with Mr. Floyd Pepper as assistant. They now have permanent ownership of Warehouse 57-G and are the official guardians of stored artifacts as specified by the late Mister Fred Rogers with all entitled honors, rights, privileges and benefits accruing thereto."

The embosser pressed down with a loud "klikrunk" and Inspector LaBrea gave the document to Floyd and folded his hands on the table in satisfaction.

"Congratulations." he smiled. "Now to call this Frass fellow. Wait a minute...is he that dog food guy?"

"You don't know the half of it." said Max. "If you're willing, and have a strong stomach, you can borrow the other tape." Mr. McFeely pulled out a second videotape from his bag. Inspector LaBrea took the tape with slight interest.

"What's this?"

"Just don't watch it until we're outta here," said Kermit. "when you see what's on it, you'll want to get the health inspector."

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

More soon.

Convincing John

 

[redBoobergurl]

Yay! Animal is the Best Neighbor and he's got the keys and yet I have this sneaking suspicion that this isn't all quite over yet. Bring it on though, I am ready!

 

[The Count]

Of course it's not over. CJ said there'd be six more chapters.

Brilliant use of Inspector LaBrea.
The notarizing was expertly handled.

Also... Saw the bit with the wedding cake coming a mile away.
Great chappy... Post more please!

 

[Convincing John]

Chapter 25

"It's this way, then turn left," instructed Max. The Happiness Hotel bus rumbled through Hensonville. Max and Mr. McFeely had hopped aboard for the ride. Only Beaker had been left behind. He was still hopping and swimming around in the sewer as Bunsen fumbled with the Nintendo Meep controller back at the Boarding House.

"It's just a few blocks ahead, then turn right at the third light."

In a few minutes, the bus pulled up to the desolate warehouse. The orange mesh fence was still there. It surrounded the building in a sad, floppy sort of way. A lone bulldozer sat forlornly in the distant parking lot. The warehouse itself seemed nondescript, but they all knew what was inside...and who it truly belonged to.

"Now there's another building you need to know about," Max pointed to another building not quite a block away. "that's where Mr. Frass is going to remotely detonate the explosives from. He told me he's going to watch from the upper floor in that studio."

The building was also bland-looking and nondescript, but Kermit knew what it was immediately.

"Not there..." Kermit saw where Max was pointing. No one could be that heartless.

Max nodded sadly. The building Max indicated was the one across the street: KERM, the local Hensonville PBS affiliate. Some shows were merely broadcast there, others taped.

It was a lovely place to visit. Robin had a field trip there and he and his class got to see how the shows were broadcast. He remembered how excited Norman got when he saw the dozens of televison studio screens, all of which showed Robin's famous uncle interviewing the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe.

"In that studio attached to it, to be specific," Max explained. "He said since no one really uses it, no one would notice."

The studio was off-limits...for good reason. That studio was the single place in Hensonville that everyone gave a wide berth. Like the 13th stair or room in a hotel, people avoided it at all costs. The doors stayed locked. The place was enough to give even Uncle Deadly the creeps. Max pointed to the one access door leading to the catwalk area via a fire escape. The door was open a crack, wedged open with a small doorstop.

"It isn't pretty in there." said Max solemnly.

"How do you know?" asked Fozzie.

"I was the one who unlocked it," Max explained. "there's just the catwalk space up there, some ropes, sandbags, not much else."

"Oh, there is something else in there," Kermit replied solemnly. "you're lucky you got out and didn't fall down below."

"Yeah," added Link. "Max could've gotten a boo-boo if he fell in the dark."

Kermit ignored Link. "What's in there is worse...worse than..."

"What?" asked Fozzie nervously.

There was a moment of silence, then Kermit looked up to face them all.

"Listen, gang," he explained. "no matter what City Hall says, Frass is going to try to do whatever he wants...and we have to stop him. Max, what time is Frass going to be there?"

"He's going to be at the warehouse at eight sharp to give the demolition crew their instructions, then I have to meet him over there."

"All right. I'm not going to lie to anyone. This is going to be dangerous. We're going to need to come up with a plan and fast."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was fortunate that Max had been there before. He knew where to go and where not to go in that studio...especially in the dark.

All of them were now crowded around the little doorway at the top of the fire escape. Max opened the door and carefully put the doorstop in place. He reached in and switched on the light. A row of suspended lamps lit up from the ceiling.

It was not unlike the Muppet Theater catwalks. There was no floor, just a series of catwalks, stagelights and the support beams near the ceiling.

The only thing odd about this area was immediately apparent to Clifford. He spent many an hour in the catwalks fixing lights. Even with the stagelights off, Clifford knew how high up he was even if he couldn't see the stage. Even in the dark, he could hear his friends rehearsing, quarreling, something exploding or one of Statler or Waldorf's remarks.

He knew the studio wasn't quite as tall as the Muppet Theater, but looking down, it felt like the darkness was infinite. There was no noise, which was somehow unsettling. Without seeing anything, Clifford felt like there was someone...or something down below.

"No one go in until you're absolutely sure where to step!" warned Kermit. "Whatever you do, don't fall."

Fozzie fiddled with his tie. "I don't know if I should go in."

"We have to, if we're going to stop Frass. Max, is this the only door unlocked?"

"That door's unlocked, but it's way over there." Max pointed across a series of dangling ropes, dangerous bridges across the catwalks made from plywood and old cables. There was another door that led outside. The door was shut, but a single ray of light streamed through a hole where a screw had fallen out.

"If there's a fire escape out there, we'll need to make sure Frass won't use that door."

Kermit's years of experience in the theater gave him some quick ideas. His eyes scanned between the catwalks.

"All right, the first thing we're going to need is some strong rope. Some of these lights need filters and some of them need to be turned off," he turned to Max. "We're going to need you to go back to the factory."

"Back to the factory?" asked Max. "Why?"

"I guarantee it'll be the last time you'll ever have to go there." Kermit replied. "I need you to..." he montioned Max to lean towards him so he could whisper in his ear.

Max's eyes grew wide.

"Are you sure?"

"Only if things get ugly, Max." Kermit reassured him. "Rowlf and I, especially Rowlf think it would be best. So...so just go get 'em, and we'll get something hooked up to...y'know."

"If...if you say so..."

"We know so." said Rowlf.

"What shall I do, Mr. Frog?" asked Mr. McFeely.

"I've thought of that. You go to the newspaper office and give them the scoop. They don't close till about seven, so that'll give 'em enough time to put the story in the paper. In the morning, we need you to help them deliver the papers. Between that and KMUP, everyone should know about Animal being 'The Best Neighbor'."

Mr. McFeely tipped his cap and gently pumped one fist. "I'm on my way, Mr. Frog! Speedy Delivery!"

Max and Mr. McFeely went their separate ways as the rest of the Muppets carefully filed into the eerie catwalk space of the studio.

"I got a bad feeling about this place." Fozzie gripped his tie and held Kermit's shoulders for support.

"Feels like we're bein' watched or somethin'." Clifford remarked. His gut feeling about the place hadn't gone away.

"Well..." Kermit gulped. "We sort of...are. That's why no one wants to come in here."

Robin held his uncle's hand even tighter. "Is...there something watching us, Uncle Kermit?"

"S..sort of..." said Kermit. "but we're safe up here. I don't think it can see us. Just don't fall."

"What's down there, Kermie?" asked Piggy as she squeezed Kermit's hand.

"It won't come until it's called. Anyway, we need to Frass-proof this place for tomorrow. Just concentrate on watching your step and helping out. Max should be back in an hour. Scooter, I need you to get some filters for these lights."

"Right, chief!" Scooter pumped his fist and disappeared out the door.

"I'll hold that other door from the outside so Frass can't get out." volunteered Sweetums.

"No no, I have something much more important for you to do," instructed Kermit. "I need you to keep Robin safe during all this. You need to go back to the Boarding House and take care of him until I get back."

"But...but I want to stay here with you!" Robin's eyes nearly watered with worry. He glanced down in the dark, trying to see what made everyone feel so uneasy.

Kermit kneeled down and put his hand on Robin's shoulder. "Listen, it's important that you stay with Sweetums. It's just too dangerous for you here, and--" he continued quickly before Robin could say anything. "we will be okay. All right? We'll be okay."

"Well...all right." Robin agreed reluctantly. "but be careful!"

"We will."

Sweetums ducked under stagelights and dangling cables with the young frog in hand as they left. The door closed partially, leaving Max and the rest of the Muppets inside.

Although no one would say it, something Kermit mentioned triggered their worst fears.

It won't come until it's called...

An icy chill ascended from the void below as if in response to their thoughts.

It won't come until its called...

It won't come until it's called...

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

Max went home, like he always did every night. Betraying the boss who treated him (and every other worker) like scum was exciting, but what if things didn't work? What if Frass decided to destroy the warehouse before eight? What then?

He'd be out of a job, that's for sure, but would Kermit still keep his promise to find him work elsewhere? Max knew he was going to quit anyway. He felt anxious about what would happen in the morning, knowing that it would be his last day with Mr. Frass, knowing that his boss's plans would (hopefully) be ruined.

Once the phone calls were made to the media, news quickly spread that 'The Best Neighbor' had been found. Frass, luckily, hadn't heard about it yet. Max knew he didn't watch the news until late at night. That bought some time, at least.

Back at his apartment, Max fiddled with the homemade antenna and lopped-off copper wires from the antenna box. It was a whole ordeal just to get one channel in. Max Scotch-taped one copper wire to the wall, and the other to the adjacent, metal window pane. Even then, the reception was poor until Max moved his metal folding chair out of the way to avoid interference. Sure, all television transmission had gone digital months ago, but somehow Max still got a signal. Max reached around to the back of the TV and adjusted the other wires: twist ties stripped of their wax coating and wound around the UHF and VHF connectors.

The snowy picture twisted this way, then that, then a crisp, clear image played on the screen. Max stood still, holding one duct-taped curtain rod, barely breathing. It was the first (and only) time this TV had a clear picture.

A fast food commercial ended, then a news desk appeared with clocks, a monitor and a few maps on the wall. An old-fashioned teletype machine sound effect clattered in the background.

"Here is a Muppet News Flash!"

A pointy-nosed newsman with ruffled hair, horn-rimmed glasses and a brown, plaid suit rushed in. Instead of stopping at his chair, the Newsman skidded past it, yelped and wiped out with a heavy thump. As he disappeared under his desk, his notes flew everywhere.

The teletype sound effect faded as the Newsman pulled himself up, sat in his chair and yelled to someone off-camera.

"Why don't they wait to wax the floors until AFTER the news broadcast?"

The Newsman gave the person off-camera a dirty look, then hastily shuffled his notes together.

"Dateline Hensonville: an extensive search concerning the guardian to Fred Rogers's possessions in Hensonville has been resolved. Just hours ago, the individual chosen to guard the props, sets and recorded programs from 'Mister Rogers Neighborhood' has been found," the Newsman threw the paper he was reading over his shoulder and read the next one. "Two members of the Electric Mayhem, house band for the Muppet Theater, have been made legal guardians of these possessions as well as the building they are kept in. The entry chosen by Rogers was written, or more specifically drawn by the drummer known as Animal."

The Newsman paused a beat as he waited for the inset graphic to show Animal's picture. Instead of the graphic, a fishing line dangled a doodled sketch in view. It looked like a rabid Muppaphone with arms and legs sprouting from it. The Newsman glanced at it, then grimaced.

"What th--...that's the best you got for a picture?"

A stagehand holding the fishing pole leaned forward. "Our other camera broke!" he whispered.

"Broke? That camera's brand new!"

"Yeah, but it broke when Animal ate it! Here's what's left." the stagehand tossed a lens cap on the desk and leaned out of camera shot.

The Newsman sighed, despondent. "In...in addition to the drummer Animal, additional guardian duties have been assigned to Sgt. Floyd Pepper, bass player for the Electric Mayhem and..."

The doodle of Animal zipped away. In its place, the stagehand placed a can of Dr. Pepper on the desk. 'Dr.' was scribbled out and replaced with 'Sgt. Floyd' in Sharpie ink.

"I swear..." the Newsman mumbled.

"No! Don't do that on the air! Wait until the commercial!" whispered the stagehand from off camera.

The Newsman glowered at him and then back at the camera. "In other news, due to several health code violations, the Bugaboo Dog Chow Company will be forced to shut down all its factories permanently by tomorrow night and recall all of its products. So, if you own any Bugaboo Dog Chow, either bring it back to the store for a refund or just pitch it."

The Newsman ducked just in time. A small dog food bag zipped past him. The stagehand, now wearing a baseball glove and a cap, shrugged innocently.

"You said to pitch it!"

"Get out of here!" the Newsman gave him a shove. The stagehand scurried out of sight again.

"The President and CEO of Bugbaboo Dog Chow Edd Frass could not be reached for comment. Inspector LaBrea informs us that he left a voice message, but apparently, Frass has not received it yet. Although the factories will be shut down, layoffs will not be a problem. Competitors of the Bugaboo Dog Chow Company will purchase the factories, repair them, clean them and use them for their own products. All staff will be rehired except for CEO Edd Frass. Says Inspector LaBrea, 'Due to several violations and maintaining an uhealthy work environment, Frass will be terminated tomorrow and his pension and severance pay will immediately be dropped."

Just then, bundles of cash fell on the Newsman's head and scattered all over his desk.

"Oof! Aggh! Hey!" The Newsman picked up a wad of bills, just realizing what he had in his hand. "Hold on...now this is more like it! Wow! I'm rich! I'm RICH! I'm...wait a minute..." the Newsman squinted critically at the bills. "this is Monopoly money!" Just then, a safe crashed down on his head.

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

A much better working television in the ritzy part of town played the same broadcast. A huge man in a thunderhead-gray suit sat in his recliner. Each breath was heavily laced with old mayonnaise, summer sausage and halitosis.

The Newsman's fingers feebly curled over the desk's edge as the stagehand came onscreen, shrugged and walked off camera.

No one in this house saw him, though. Earlier that afternoon, a short power outage happened. As a result, the VCR's memory was wiped out and the tape inside didn't record the broadcast. The VCR clock blinked 12:00, flashing a light blue glow on Edd Frass.

Frass didn't notice the light or the broadcast. He was was sound asleep in his recliner.

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

More soon.

Convincing John

 

[redBoobergurl]

Man oh man you're building suspense here again and it's getting super exciting and I am on the edge of my seat! And so curious about "it won't come until it's called". Hmmm....

More! More! More!

 

[The Count]

Yaey! *Has a vague idea of what's filling the void beneath the catwalks. *Laughs at the doodle of Animal. *Cheers at new chapter. *Waits for next update.

 

[Convincing John]

Chapter 26

Max barely slept that night. He never slept that well to begin with, but this night was especially uncomfortable. As best as he could, Max tried to rest on the only "pillow" he had: an old sweater wadded inside a t-shirt for a pillowcase.

Kermit and the others were hard at work in the studio's catwalk. Max wanted to be there to help him, but Kermit insisted that Max should be with Frass until the plan was carried out. After some thought, Max decided it would be best that way.

His stomach churned for a different reason tonight. He wondered, after this, if Kermit had found him a job. Certainly, he would be fired soon. Would he have to move? When he moved to his current apartment, he had to sell his old car. He'd have to rent a U-Haul. Maybe Kermit would let him borrow their bus to move his stuff. It would only take one trip with the few things Max owned.

At the same time, Max was excited at the prospect of a new life and a new job, whatever it was. Anything was better than spending day after day pouring roaches into mixing machines.

The only movement (and light) in the room was the changing of a number. Max's tiny, digital alarm clock switched from 3:04 to 3:05. In just a couple of hours, he would be contributing to preserve a piece of history...and to start a brand new life.

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

Frass began the day as he always did: selecting a suit, gulping down some heart pills with no water and neglecting his toothbrush.

He frowned slightly at the flashing 12:00 on his VCR. He hadn't been able to check the news last night, but no matter. Missing the news one day wouldn't hurt. After all, he had more important matters on his mind.

Without bothering to reset the clock, Frass locked the door to his expensive house he couldn't really afford. Glad that Max couldn't see him, he waddled past the garage where the battered Maybach sat. Fat fingers grabbed change from his pocket as the bus pulled up. Frass always took the bus to work, simply because he couldn't afford the insurance on the Maybach which was, of course, purchased just for show. It was just like every other day, except Frass wasn't going to the factory. He wanted to check on the demolition crew...

And to take a memento from the warehouse.

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Max rode across town on his bicycle. Most of the city was still asleep. Pale shades of orange, pink and yellow stretched behind houses, trees and other buildings as Max coasted unseen down a side street. Frass told him to wait at the abandoned studio, but he had to check here first.

As Max reached the bottom of the hill, he took a deep breath. It was still there. The warehouse was surrounded by the orange mesh and warning signs. The crane stood next to it, imposing and still, like a guillotine ready to chop. Its looming wrecking ball eclipsed the morning sun.

Next to the warehouse was a newspaper dispenser. Max read the displayed headline and came to a stop. Normally, Max couldn't afford to get a newspaper, but today was different. He bought one, read the joyous headline and carefully rolled it up. He decided to buy a second one. He would save up to have it framed.

There were a few demolition workers checking wires and pointing to different corners of the warehouse. Max merely glanced at them before tying the papers to his bicycle handlebars and riding away. He had to make it to the studio on time.

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

About ten minutes later, the bus pulled up to the corner and Frass waddled out. As soon as he turned around, there it was: the future site of his new dog food factory. A demolition worker glanced up as Frass found an opening in the orange mesh fence.

"Uh this area's restric--oh, hello, Mr. Frass."

"Hello!" Frass greeted him cheerfully. "Everything on schedule, I presume?"

None of the demolition workers had seen last night's news broadcast, so everything was going as planned. "Yes, sir. It's all on schedule."

"Mind if I take a look around before you tear it all down? I want to get something from inside."

The demolition worker turned to his coworkers and made a slashing motion across his throat before turning back to Frass.

"Of course, sir."

Without another word, Frass went inside Warehouse 57-G and almost immediately saw what he was looking for. A meaty hand snatched at them. Next to the (now) empty spot was a manila folder. Frass opened it and saw another artifact he would be especially pleased to destroy.

Once outside, he merely nodded stiffy to the demolition crew. The last thing he did before leaving the site was motion to a final object inside one of the trucks.

"Mind if I borrow that for a while? You'll get it back soon."

The workers nodded vaguely, wondering why Frass would want something like that.

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

A third person visited the demolition crew. The man eagerly showed them the newspaper article and convinced them to leave the site, at least for the time being. The crew agreed and decided to take the morning off to go have breakfast.

When the crew was gone, the man went inside Warehouse 57-G to make some very vital adjustments.

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

Max waited nervously at the top of the fire escape. The sun was up, but it was still a bit cold. He waited for that car to come...but it didn't.

7:30.

It wasn't long before Max saw a large shape waddling into view. At first, it looked like an oversized penguin. Then, Max noticed, that waddle wasn't made by a bird, but by his boss.

Frass wore the blackest, most intimidating suit he had. What the Maybach did in chrome, Frass's suit did in cloth. Unevenly, he wheezed as he waddled slowly to the end of the block. He carried something concealed under his suit jacket. What it was, Max didn't want to know.

"M.." he stopped to cough. "Max...are you up there?"

"Yes, Mr. Frass," Max nodded obediently. "come on up. It's almost eight."

With great effort, Frass began to climb the stairs. He held his suit coat closed while gripping the handrail for support. At last, he made it to the top. Oily sweat glistened across his face. After a few wheezes, Frass finally caught his breath. One hand held his bulging jacket. The other one eased something out of his pocket.

It was a simple-looking remote no larger than a brownie. There was just an LED light on one side and a rectangular button on the top.

"Just look at it, Max," Frass smiled. "the new site of my next Bugaboo Dog Chow factory! Once this junk is destroyed, I'll have a factory even bigger and better than ever! And once I have all our factories use our "extra protein", I'll be rich!"

"No, you won't."

That wasn't Max's voice! Frass whirled around and saw a short, spindly, green figure just inside the doorway.

"So," a grin creeped like poison ivy across Frass's face. "we meet at last, frog."

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

More soon.

Convincing John

 

[redBoobergurl]

You are just setting the stage here and it's the right amount of creepy and yet, at the end here it's hopeful with Kermit there - oh I hope this showdown goes all right....