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The Great Impostors
- Thread starter WebMistressGina
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WebMistressGina
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The Counter is correct. This story just has Piggy masquerading as him; sequel will have them meet. But sequel is a ways off; has a few series to complete/finish first.
WebMistressGina
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- Joined
- Mar 26, 2012
- Messages
- 913
- Reaction score
- 655
It took a bit, but here is your Impostors update!
If you don't remember what happened last time, Piggy was feeling a little bored and arranged to crash a party for a prominent author, along with Rowlf and Janice. The three were able to get in through aliases - Rowlf as Rowlf Bennington, III, Janice as Ambrosia, and Piggy as actor Neil Patrick Harris in disguise.
In this update, our trio start off the evening normally, one would think, but believe me...this is just the beginning....
Chapter III
With the dismissal from Piggy, Rowlf decided he’d head to his left and see what the people over there were discussing. So far, it seemed to be a literary crowd – those that were well versed within the classics of literature and art; Rowlf was knowledgeable, but music was his bag and he was feeling a little out of his depth when he passed a couple who seemed to be discussing the merits of Chaucer and the modern world.
The house was very much that of a professional – leather seats, from the couch to the sitting chairs, littered the living room; a high chandelier hung in the foyer of the home, which led to the living room; bookcases seemed to line the walls and were covered in books of all matters, from the medical to fantastical. Within the small crowd, Rowlf was able to spot the drinks table and that’s where he headed, hoping to get just a good old fashioned beer, but knowing without a doubt he might be stuck with something that had class or worse, water; that was the last thing he wanted in order to get through this party.
The little bar that had been set up looked like it was part of another book collection, with rows of books begin replaced by several bottles of alcohol. The young man behind the counter seemed just as bored as Rowlf was when he approached. “Don’t suppose you’ve got anything on tap?” he joked, receiving a sympathetic chuckle in response. “Didn’t think so,” he continued. “Whiskey, neat.”
The bartender was happy to oblige, pouring the pianist his drink, and getting a thankful nod in return. “Anything interesting happening?”
“Are you kidding?” the bartender asked, huffing in annoyance. Looking around though, he did lean closer towards dog and whispered, “Word has it something’s going down in the study, real relaxed like, know what I’m saying?”
Rowlf did know what he was saying and while he wasn’t judging on that kind of behavior, he wasn’t a partaker. However, he figured if Janice was having as boring as a time as he was, she might be able to enjoy the comforts of that group. “I got ya,” the pianist whispered. “May have someone who might take you up on that. Anything else worth wild?”
“There’s a mini pool tournament going on in that sitting room over there,” the bartender stated, nodding to the room that was directly behind them, on the other side of the house. Rowlf turned to look behind him, seeing a group of men standing around what appeared to be a pool table.
“Now that’s something I can get behind.”
“Top her off for you?” the young man asked, indicating Rowlf’s near empty glass.
“Much obliged,” the dog thanked him.
“Watch out for Col. Kidd,” the bartender warned. “He’s a pool shark.”
Rowlf saluted him with his glass before turning to head for the sitting room. Much like the rest of the house, the sitting room was also covered with book cases, leather chairs, and a nice wood pool table that sat in the middle. Five men were already inside and gathered around, the middle of a game obviously taking place. “Evening, gents,” Rowlf greeted, holding his glass up in a hello.
“Well there you go, Georgie boy!” one man shouted, pointing to a man standing to the side. “There’s your partner right here! And just in time! I say, sir…” he continued, turning back to Rowlf. “You don’t perchance partake in a little bit of the pool cue, do you?”
“Just so happens, I may have won a tournament or two,” the pup replied.
“Excellent!” the man said, his excitement heightening the clear English accent he spoke with. He held out a hand, saying, “Major Tom Mandrake here and your partner is one George Winster, standing just there. We’ve come abroad to celebrate Martin’s book, you know? The other chaps are Col. Chester Kidd, he’s the one shooting right now; David Belvedere, on his left; and Colin Sparks to the right. And you, sir?”
“Rowlf Bennington, the third,” Rowlf said. “Pleasure, all around of course.”
“Bennington,” Sparks replied, his face scrunching in confusion. “I’ve heard that name before.”
“Any relation to the Connecticut Benningtons?” Mandrake asked.
“Distant,” Rowlf began. “Cousins, I believe. On my mother’s side. Haven’t been up that way in…oh….several years. It’s been a while.”
“Lord knows travel these days can cost you the pretty penny,” Kidd remarked. “Isn’t that right, boys? We’ll just finish up, Bennington, then we’ll see what you’ve got.”
Rowlf nodded, a small smile gracing his face. He managed to luck out and found probably the most exciting room in this whole party; he only wished his comrades in arms would let him enjoy it before they got too bored.
[hr]
Janice, or rather, Ambrosia, was not at all bored.
She had managed to be accosted within two minutes of stepping from Piggy and Rowlf’s side, by a very eager and chatty old woman who was convinced the blonde guitarist was the reincarnation of someone she knew. Whether Janice was the type to believe all of that – and technically, she kinda was – she would’ve felt bad for leaving the old gal, especially when it seemed that her other companions viewed her as a bit off the beam, as they said.
The group of women, headed by one Madame Claudette DuVal, were all seated around a small coffee that sat within the living room of the home. From the conversation with Madame D, the elderly woman who had accosted the blonde, Janice learned these women were great admirers of Dr. Milan, with some of them being former patients of the doctor’s as well. There were three others, “dear friends” as Madame D described, all sitting about and chatting about the book that Milan had put out, how nice of a man he was, and whose granddaughter they thought would make a lovely wife for him.
The youngest of the bunch was that of Millicent Dracen, a sixty-nine year old widow who had been coming to Dr. Milan for the past five years with a variety of ailments; Millie had a tremendous fear of diseases, especially after losing her husband to a lengthy one several years earlier. Then there was Grace Purdue, a seventy-five year old former nurse who had once worked with Milan and was currently seeing him for her own health issues, and who thought he would make a perfect match for her youngest daughter. Rounding out the group was the oldest member at ninety, Dame Gretchen Hitchcock, a native of Boston who spent several years abroad in England and India, traveling the country with her then husband who had died and just recently with her second, much younger, husband.
Madame D was nestled somewhere in the middle of the group, not as old as Dame Gretchen, but older than Grace; truthfully she reminded Janice of an aged Miss Piggy, a woman with class and who held herself above the rest with that class. In fact, upon meeting the woman, Janice had looked around for Piggy, wanting to satisfy her curiosity at how much of a resemblance there was between the two. Aside from Madame D’s very real devotion to the notion of reincarnation and the spirit world, Janice was sure she and the porcine princess would get along swimmingly. For now, however, Madame D was leading the pretend – something or other, Janice hadn’t really spent time coming up with a persona the way Rowlf and Piggy had – towards the trio of ladies.
“Dears, let me introduce you to someone,” Madame D began. “This is Ambrosia; isn’t that a delightful name? I saw her in the crowd and immediately noticed a resemblance to Blanche, you remember her don’t you, Gracie?”
“Your cousin?” Gracie questioned. “Well, I guess I could see it in the hair. I hope your personality is much better suited to a woman of your stature; Blanche was quite the handful.”
“I don’t see it,” Dame Gretchen replied, stiffly. “I see no resemblance to that horrid woman, begging your pardon, Claudie dear.”
“What is it you do, dear?” asked Millie innocently.
This was the moment Janice had dreaded since Rowlfie picked her up for the evening; she wasn’t as quick on her feet as the other two, at least not where it came to making up personas and things. Janice, like Rowlf, was very much the musician and while she could easy make up a song on the spot, snap of your fingers, she wasn’t as good at coming up with lines just like that. But what Janice lacked in catchy comebacks, she more than made up for with imagination, determination, and the amount of crazy friends she had, two of which she had come down here with.
“Oh, I dabble here and there,” she drawled, flipping her hair over her shoulder, the way she had seen Piggy do on many occasions. “I’m more of….traveler of sorts, a…proveyor of many amusements and attractions. Recently, I’ve set my sights on exploring my horizons, literature being one; I’m usually a musical type of girl myself…”
“My grandson is in a band,” said Gracie. “Playing rock and roll of all things. He was such a gifted pianist when he was in school, he nearly went to Julliard, you know, but that rock and roll music…”
“Do you play?” That was from Dame Gretchen, who looked at Janice over a glass of white wine.
“I did,” she answered quickly. “I agree, it was a….wasted endeavor, but a youthful passion, which every young person should have. The world is more than just our jobs and perceptions.”
“I agree!” Madame D nodded, patting Janice on the arm as she did so. “I knew I would like you when I saw you, resemblance to my cousin Blanche notwithstanding. Ambrosia darling, how would you like to join us? Martin’s given us the full use of his den for the evening.”
“I…I would be delighted,” the blonde said, grinning eagerly. “Join you for what?”
“Oh, it’s something very special!” Millie gushed.
“Should be the talk of the night, poor Martin,” Gretchen groused.
Madame D turned to look at the young woman. “We’re holding a séance!”
[hr]
Just as Rowlf and Janice had done before her, Piggy had to hold in the annoyance she had with this party. It was boring, utterly so, and she had done a more thorough check of the party guests faster than her companions had. Being the hostess with the mostest that she was, Piggy was a quick adept at scanning a party for just the right – and wrong – people and this party was clearly not the right people. Oh, they were prominent folks or admirers, but they weren’t her people.
As much as she may have denied it, the Hollywood set wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, though she did enjoy the mingling and hobnobbing that went with it. No, her people – dare she admit it – was those she worked with, marginally, as they were the kind of folks who understood her, despite driving her up the wall. That was why she had invited Rowlf and Janice out for the evening, the hope that they could not only enjoy themselves, but be an anchor to the folks that she actually wanted to hang out with. It wasn’t to say that the intellectual crowd wasn’t her crowd, however these folks had and lorded their intelligence over others and that was something the diva detested above all else.
Even with all their zany, wacky, and insane ideas, those idiots – lord love ‘em – had a vast wealth of knowledge she couldn’t even begin to count. Rowlf and Dr. Teeth alone could make their own music encyclopedia if they had wanted to, while Scooter was a literal genius at any and everything he thought up; Gonzo, as certifiable as he was, held a thoughtfulness and inner insight that you never would have guessed if you didn’t know him. Those were her people and every party that they weren’t there wasn’t much of an effort to really enjoy.
Piggy had known within the first fifteen minutes that this party was a dud and she had been looking around for one or both of her companions to tell them that very thing, but of course, when she said to scatter that’s exactly what they did. So now, she was left searching around for either her partners in crime or some lively conversation that she could listen to or join in, but neither of them caught her eye, however the door guard did.
Malcom, the man from the door that had gotten their names, was standing by a much shorter man wearing glasses and in the type of dress that a college professor would wear. They were obviously talking about something and that something must have involved her because Malcom openly pointed and nodded in her direction several times, causing Piggy to look behind her to see if maybe they were discussing someone else. To her horror, they were indeed speaking about her and they were making their way towards her at that moment.
“Miss Porter?” Malcom asked, eyes alight and eager to please.
It took Piggy at least three seconds to realize that not only was he speaking to her, but he was using the alias he had prepared for her at the door.
“Yes,” she said, slowly. “Yes, that is my name. My name is definitely…Porter.”
The shorter man leaned in and said, “It’s alright, I know who you are.”
Panic that had started growing now erupted, though Piggy knew deep down this idea probably wasn’t going to work. They were in Hollywood and very few people in Hollywood didn’t know who she or the other Muppets were; she could only hope the two kept their silence and wouldn’t rat her out to the others at the party.
“This is Dr. Milan,” Malcom continued. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but let him know you were here.”
“I’m such a big fan,” Milan gushed. “I have endeavored to see any and all works that you’ve done, though some of them are unfortunately not in my taste.”
Not in his taste! Just who did this guy think he was?
“Though I know the kids these days like those kind of things…”
Honestly, Piggy thought. The guy comes over to praise me and then starts to dismiss the stuff I’ve done!? In about five seconds, she was about to tell him, and Malcom, just where they could take their ‘appreciation’.
“But I have to say,” Milan continued. “Your Doogie Howser was the very reason I continued on with my residency.”
Huh?
“Say what?” she asked.
“Oh, I know you must think me silly,” he said. “A grown man feeling inspired by a teenager and a teenage actor at that, but that television show really showed a depth to what it was like being a doctor. I dare say, I shared many traits with young Doogie, especially during my residency…”
As Milan rambled on and on, Piggy suddenly knew what he was talking about. Milan hadn’t recognized her as Miss Piggy, star of stage and screen, leading lady of the Muppets, he had been under the impression that she was Neil Patrick Harris, the alias she had used in order to get into the party in the first place. Instantly, the idea of portraying another actor – especially one of a different species and gender – was a scary instance she had not counted on, however it would probably be her greatest role yet, if she decided to take the mission set forth before her. To pull this off, especially in front of the very host of the party, Piggy would need to utilize everything she had ever learned as a model, actress, friend, girlfriend, and business partner.
She would have to dig deep and remember everything that Fozzie, ever the encyclopedic mind of useless television and movie trivia, had ever told her about whatever program he was watching; she would have to utilize the pop culture references that made up Neil Patrick Harris’ career, everything that he had done during his youth and everything since, including movies, television, and Broadway; she would have to be NPH in order to be…NPH.
As one of NPH’s current characters was fond of saying…
Challenge accepted.
If you don't remember what happened last time, Piggy was feeling a little bored and arranged to crash a party for a prominent author, along with Rowlf and Janice. The three were able to get in through aliases - Rowlf as Rowlf Bennington, III, Janice as Ambrosia, and Piggy as actor Neil Patrick Harris in disguise.
In this update, our trio start off the evening normally, one would think, but believe me...this is just the beginning....
Chapter III
With the dismissal from Piggy, Rowlf decided he’d head to his left and see what the people over there were discussing. So far, it seemed to be a literary crowd – those that were well versed within the classics of literature and art; Rowlf was knowledgeable, but music was his bag and he was feeling a little out of his depth when he passed a couple who seemed to be discussing the merits of Chaucer and the modern world.
The house was very much that of a professional – leather seats, from the couch to the sitting chairs, littered the living room; a high chandelier hung in the foyer of the home, which led to the living room; bookcases seemed to line the walls and were covered in books of all matters, from the medical to fantastical. Within the small crowd, Rowlf was able to spot the drinks table and that’s where he headed, hoping to get just a good old fashioned beer, but knowing without a doubt he might be stuck with something that had class or worse, water; that was the last thing he wanted in order to get through this party.
The little bar that had been set up looked like it was part of another book collection, with rows of books begin replaced by several bottles of alcohol. The young man behind the counter seemed just as bored as Rowlf was when he approached. “Don’t suppose you’ve got anything on tap?” he joked, receiving a sympathetic chuckle in response. “Didn’t think so,” he continued. “Whiskey, neat.”
The bartender was happy to oblige, pouring the pianist his drink, and getting a thankful nod in return. “Anything interesting happening?”
“Are you kidding?” the bartender asked, huffing in annoyance. Looking around though, he did lean closer towards dog and whispered, “Word has it something’s going down in the study, real relaxed like, know what I’m saying?”
Rowlf did know what he was saying and while he wasn’t judging on that kind of behavior, he wasn’t a partaker. However, he figured if Janice was having as boring as a time as he was, she might be able to enjoy the comforts of that group. “I got ya,” the pianist whispered. “May have someone who might take you up on that. Anything else worth wild?”
“There’s a mini pool tournament going on in that sitting room over there,” the bartender stated, nodding to the room that was directly behind them, on the other side of the house. Rowlf turned to look behind him, seeing a group of men standing around what appeared to be a pool table.
“Now that’s something I can get behind.”
“Top her off for you?” the young man asked, indicating Rowlf’s near empty glass.
“Much obliged,” the dog thanked him.
“Watch out for Col. Kidd,” the bartender warned. “He’s a pool shark.”
Rowlf saluted him with his glass before turning to head for the sitting room. Much like the rest of the house, the sitting room was also covered with book cases, leather chairs, and a nice wood pool table that sat in the middle. Five men were already inside and gathered around, the middle of a game obviously taking place. “Evening, gents,” Rowlf greeted, holding his glass up in a hello.
“Well there you go, Georgie boy!” one man shouted, pointing to a man standing to the side. “There’s your partner right here! And just in time! I say, sir…” he continued, turning back to Rowlf. “You don’t perchance partake in a little bit of the pool cue, do you?”
“Just so happens, I may have won a tournament or two,” the pup replied.
“Excellent!” the man said, his excitement heightening the clear English accent he spoke with. He held out a hand, saying, “Major Tom Mandrake here and your partner is one George Winster, standing just there. We’ve come abroad to celebrate Martin’s book, you know? The other chaps are Col. Chester Kidd, he’s the one shooting right now; David Belvedere, on his left; and Colin Sparks to the right. And you, sir?”
“Rowlf Bennington, the third,” Rowlf said. “Pleasure, all around of course.”
“Bennington,” Sparks replied, his face scrunching in confusion. “I’ve heard that name before.”
“Any relation to the Connecticut Benningtons?” Mandrake asked.
“Distant,” Rowlf began. “Cousins, I believe. On my mother’s side. Haven’t been up that way in…oh….several years. It’s been a while.”
“Lord knows travel these days can cost you the pretty penny,” Kidd remarked. “Isn’t that right, boys? We’ll just finish up, Bennington, then we’ll see what you’ve got.”
Rowlf nodded, a small smile gracing his face. He managed to luck out and found probably the most exciting room in this whole party; he only wished his comrades in arms would let him enjoy it before they got too bored.
[hr]
Janice, or rather, Ambrosia, was not at all bored.
She had managed to be accosted within two minutes of stepping from Piggy and Rowlf’s side, by a very eager and chatty old woman who was convinced the blonde guitarist was the reincarnation of someone she knew. Whether Janice was the type to believe all of that – and technically, she kinda was – she would’ve felt bad for leaving the old gal, especially when it seemed that her other companions viewed her as a bit off the beam, as they said.
The group of women, headed by one Madame Claudette DuVal, were all seated around a small coffee that sat within the living room of the home. From the conversation with Madame D, the elderly woman who had accosted the blonde, Janice learned these women were great admirers of Dr. Milan, with some of them being former patients of the doctor’s as well. There were three others, “dear friends” as Madame D described, all sitting about and chatting about the book that Milan had put out, how nice of a man he was, and whose granddaughter they thought would make a lovely wife for him.
The youngest of the bunch was that of Millicent Dracen, a sixty-nine year old widow who had been coming to Dr. Milan for the past five years with a variety of ailments; Millie had a tremendous fear of diseases, especially after losing her husband to a lengthy one several years earlier. Then there was Grace Purdue, a seventy-five year old former nurse who had once worked with Milan and was currently seeing him for her own health issues, and who thought he would make a perfect match for her youngest daughter. Rounding out the group was the oldest member at ninety, Dame Gretchen Hitchcock, a native of Boston who spent several years abroad in England and India, traveling the country with her then husband who had died and just recently with her second, much younger, husband.
Madame D was nestled somewhere in the middle of the group, not as old as Dame Gretchen, but older than Grace; truthfully she reminded Janice of an aged Miss Piggy, a woman with class and who held herself above the rest with that class. In fact, upon meeting the woman, Janice had looked around for Piggy, wanting to satisfy her curiosity at how much of a resemblance there was between the two. Aside from Madame D’s very real devotion to the notion of reincarnation and the spirit world, Janice was sure she and the porcine princess would get along swimmingly. For now, however, Madame D was leading the pretend – something or other, Janice hadn’t really spent time coming up with a persona the way Rowlf and Piggy had – towards the trio of ladies.
“Dears, let me introduce you to someone,” Madame D began. “This is Ambrosia; isn’t that a delightful name? I saw her in the crowd and immediately noticed a resemblance to Blanche, you remember her don’t you, Gracie?”
“Your cousin?” Gracie questioned. “Well, I guess I could see it in the hair. I hope your personality is much better suited to a woman of your stature; Blanche was quite the handful.”
“I don’t see it,” Dame Gretchen replied, stiffly. “I see no resemblance to that horrid woman, begging your pardon, Claudie dear.”
“What is it you do, dear?” asked Millie innocently.
This was the moment Janice had dreaded since Rowlfie picked her up for the evening; she wasn’t as quick on her feet as the other two, at least not where it came to making up personas and things. Janice, like Rowlf, was very much the musician and while she could easy make up a song on the spot, snap of your fingers, she wasn’t as good at coming up with lines just like that. But what Janice lacked in catchy comebacks, she more than made up for with imagination, determination, and the amount of crazy friends she had, two of which she had come down here with.
“Oh, I dabble here and there,” she drawled, flipping her hair over her shoulder, the way she had seen Piggy do on many occasions. “I’m more of….traveler of sorts, a…proveyor of many amusements and attractions. Recently, I’ve set my sights on exploring my horizons, literature being one; I’m usually a musical type of girl myself…”
“My grandson is in a band,” said Gracie. “Playing rock and roll of all things. He was such a gifted pianist when he was in school, he nearly went to Julliard, you know, but that rock and roll music…”
“Do you play?” That was from Dame Gretchen, who looked at Janice over a glass of white wine.
“I did,” she answered quickly. “I agree, it was a….wasted endeavor, but a youthful passion, which every young person should have. The world is more than just our jobs and perceptions.”
“I agree!” Madame D nodded, patting Janice on the arm as she did so. “I knew I would like you when I saw you, resemblance to my cousin Blanche notwithstanding. Ambrosia darling, how would you like to join us? Martin’s given us the full use of his den for the evening.”
“I…I would be delighted,” the blonde said, grinning eagerly. “Join you for what?”
“Oh, it’s something very special!” Millie gushed.
“Should be the talk of the night, poor Martin,” Gretchen groused.
Madame D turned to look at the young woman. “We’re holding a séance!”
[hr]
Just as Rowlf and Janice had done before her, Piggy had to hold in the annoyance she had with this party. It was boring, utterly so, and she had done a more thorough check of the party guests faster than her companions had. Being the hostess with the mostest that she was, Piggy was a quick adept at scanning a party for just the right – and wrong – people and this party was clearly not the right people. Oh, they were prominent folks or admirers, but they weren’t her people.
As much as she may have denied it, the Hollywood set wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, though she did enjoy the mingling and hobnobbing that went with it. No, her people – dare she admit it – was those she worked with, marginally, as they were the kind of folks who understood her, despite driving her up the wall. That was why she had invited Rowlf and Janice out for the evening, the hope that they could not only enjoy themselves, but be an anchor to the folks that she actually wanted to hang out with. It wasn’t to say that the intellectual crowd wasn’t her crowd, however these folks had and lorded their intelligence over others and that was something the diva detested above all else.
Even with all their zany, wacky, and insane ideas, those idiots – lord love ‘em – had a vast wealth of knowledge she couldn’t even begin to count. Rowlf and Dr. Teeth alone could make their own music encyclopedia if they had wanted to, while Scooter was a literal genius at any and everything he thought up; Gonzo, as certifiable as he was, held a thoughtfulness and inner insight that you never would have guessed if you didn’t know him. Those were her people and every party that they weren’t there wasn’t much of an effort to really enjoy.
Piggy had known within the first fifteen minutes that this party was a dud and she had been looking around for one or both of her companions to tell them that very thing, but of course, when she said to scatter that’s exactly what they did. So now, she was left searching around for either her partners in crime or some lively conversation that she could listen to or join in, but neither of them caught her eye, however the door guard did.
Malcom, the man from the door that had gotten their names, was standing by a much shorter man wearing glasses and in the type of dress that a college professor would wear. They were obviously talking about something and that something must have involved her because Malcom openly pointed and nodded in her direction several times, causing Piggy to look behind her to see if maybe they were discussing someone else. To her horror, they were indeed speaking about her and they were making their way towards her at that moment.
“Miss Porter?” Malcom asked, eyes alight and eager to please.
It took Piggy at least three seconds to realize that not only was he speaking to her, but he was using the alias he had prepared for her at the door.
“Yes,” she said, slowly. “Yes, that is my name. My name is definitely…Porter.”
The shorter man leaned in and said, “It’s alright, I know who you are.”
Panic that had started growing now erupted, though Piggy knew deep down this idea probably wasn’t going to work. They were in Hollywood and very few people in Hollywood didn’t know who she or the other Muppets were; she could only hope the two kept their silence and wouldn’t rat her out to the others at the party.
“This is Dr. Milan,” Malcom continued. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but let him know you were here.”
“I’m such a big fan,” Milan gushed. “I have endeavored to see any and all works that you’ve done, though some of them are unfortunately not in my taste.”
Not in his taste! Just who did this guy think he was?
“Though I know the kids these days like those kind of things…”
Honestly, Piggy thought. The guy comes over to praise me and then starts to dismiss the stuff I’ve done!? In about five seconds, she was about to tell him, and Malcom, just where they could take their ‘appreciation’.
“But I have to say,” Milan continued. “Your Doogie Howser was the very reason I continued on with my residency.”
Huh?
“Say what?” she asked.
“Oh, I know you must think me silly,” he said. “A grown man feeling inspired by a teenager and a teenage actor at that, but that television show really showed a depth to what it was like being a doctor. I dare say, I shared many traits with young Doogie, especially during my residency…”
As Milan rambled on and on, Piggy suddenly knew what he was talking about. Milan hadn’t recognized her as Miss Piggy, star of stage and screen, leading lady of the Muppets, he had been under the impression that she was Neil Patrick Harris, the alias she had used in order to get into the party in the first place. Instantly, the idea of portraying another actor – especially one of a different species and gender – was a scary instance she had not counted on, however it would probably be her greatest role yet, if she decided to take the mission set forth before her. To pull this off, especially in front of the very host of the party, Piggy would need to utilize everything she had ever learned as a model, actress, friend, girlfriend, and business partner.
She would have to dig deep and remember everything that Fozzie, ever the encyclopedic mind of useless television and movie trivia, had ever told her about whatever program he was watching; she would have to utilize the pop culture references that made up Neil Patrick Harris’ career, everything that he had done during his youth and everything since, including movies, television, and Broadway; she would have to be NPH in order to be…NPH.
As one of NPH’s current characters was fond of saying…
Challenge accepted.
WebMistressGina
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For you youngin's out there, Neil Patrick Harris' beginning claim to fame was as Doogie Howser, MD about a teen genius who was going through the motions of being a teenager and head doctor of a hospital. If you are a Hulu Plus member, you can actually watch - looks like - the first two seasons of the show on the site.
For those of you who know the current NPH, you may know that he just finished up one of his best characters, that of Barney Stintson on How I Met Your Mother. First eight seasons can be found on Netflix - if you subscribe - while the last season can be purchased at Amazon for any Prime members.
The 'unsavory' roles I at least had in mind that Milan is discussing are those of HIMYM and his guest appearances in the Harold and Kumar movie trilogy. I'm sure I'll bring up some more NPH for Piggy to reference, so if you haven't seen Dr. Horrible - it can be found on Netflix and I believe it's still on YouTube as well.
Tomorrow...probably a new chap of Monday Return.
For those of you who know the current NPH, you may know that he just finished up one of his best characters, that of Barney Stintson on How I Met Your Mother. First eight seasons can be found on Netflix - if you subscribe - while the last season can be purchased at Amazon for any Prime members.
The 'unsavory' roles I at least had in mind that Milan is discussing are those of HIMYM and his guest appearances in the Harold and Kumar movie trilogy. I'm sure I'll bring up some more NPH for Piggy to reference, so if you haven't seen Dr. Horrible - it can be found on Netflix and I believe it's still on YouTube as well.
Tomorrow...probably a new chap of Monday Return.
TheWeirdoGirl
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"Neil Patrick Harris."
Excuse me while I take a moment to recover from laughing so hard.
Excuse me while I take a moment to recover from laughing so hard.
AlittleMayhem
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Oh, goodness! I'm really excited for these scenarios you've set up, even though we half know how it's gonna end up.
WebMistressGina
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So...first, I am so sorry that I couldn't get this to you when I said. And then ultra sorry that when I tried to get it to you over the weekend (cause I have several Monday updates in a row), still couldn't get it to you. But hey, one a Tuesday, not bad right!?
In case you've just tuned in - our favorite diva was feeling a bit bored, so she rounded up Rowlfie and the Lady J to crash a local party for a doctor turn physician. Under the alias of Rowlf Bennington, Ambrosia, and Neil Patrick Harris, our party crashers get separated - Rowlf to enjoy a pool game in the study, Ambrosia to the den for a seance, and 'NPH' got ratted out to the host thanks to the doorman.
In this new chapter, we see how all of that plays out, shall we? Let's watch!
Chapter IV
Rowlf wouldn’t say he was a spectacular pool player by any means, but he seemed to be heads above his partner, Winster. That wasn’t to say that the others were as weak, as apparent from the way Col. Kidd was playing for keeps; the colonel obviously had some skill, which he proceeded to show off every time he took a shot. Kidd was exactly as the bartender said – a pool shark, but an engaging one at least.
The group had broken in to three groups of two, for what should have been a friendly game of pool, and it was! It wasn’t to say that Rowlf wasn’t enjoying the game or the conversation, he was, and it certainly was taking the time that he would be just roaming around doing nothing. He did wonder what the girls were doing, while he was enjoying the company of these obvious former military friends and the friendly game that came with.
He did get to learn a little more about his companions while he played. Being the only person who didn’t truly know who Martin Milan was, Rowlf took his cue to learn more about this guy, just in the case he’d run into the doctor and he started asking questions. Milan had been a doctor in his youth before turning to the written word, which not only helped to further his physician career, but launched him into the stratosphere as an author. Milan was pretty much a well off kid who grew up to be a well off adult, but from the description he got from his fellow military comrades, Rowlf discovered that Milan was pretty to earth.
And it was his hope, that should the good doctor discover the uninvited guests, he’d still be a down to earth guy.
The pool game soon ended, with Rowlf and Winster barely scraping by for the win, thanks to a lucky shot by Winster. “Good game, boys,” Kidd replied, nodding to the winners. “I think we could use some freshening on our drinks, what do you say?”
“I’m up for that,” Rowlf said, lifting up his empty glass.
“We’ve got a flask of Brandy, if that be your poison, Benny,” Mandrake said.
“I’m a whiskey kind of dog,” the pianist said. “I’ll get a topper from the bar keep. Be right back.”
As Rowlf headed out, he made sure to keep an eye out for both Piggy and Janice and didn’t see either one of them, which was a little odd. Figuring the two of them might be off with some of the other guests, the dog didn’t think another thing about it as he made his way to the same bar and barkeep behind it. “Got caught up in that game, did you?” he asked, once he saw the dog approach.
“Not bad a game,” Rowlf replied, setting his drink down to be refilled. “Managed to win, but you’re right; that colonel’s a pool shark alright.”
“Told ya.” The barkeep began to fill the glass, before he looked around for anyone that was listening and then leaned closer to Rowlf. “Heard there was a celebrity here,” he whispered.
That got him. “Really?” he asked, casually. This whole thing hinged on the fact that no one would recognized them, but if they had been found out, it could be worse for everyone involved. He was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten ousted or else his companions would be making a bigger deal than they were or perhaps, a bigger deal than they were letting on; if he had to guess, he was pretty sure it was Piggy. There was no way she could’ve stayed unknown, even in this crowd; the diva was not the kind of girl that wanted to be ignored, and even she did want to be ignored, she made it awfully hard to ignore her.
Those baby blues and that personality could draw anyone in, especially the males of the species and Rowlf knew from experience. There wasn’t a male in the Muppets who hadn’t been a victim to her charms.
“Who’s the celebrity?”
The bartender shrugged. “Not sure,” he said. “I haven’t seen anyone, yet. And I haven’t heard who the celebrity was, but no worries; when I find who it is, I’ll let you know.” The bartender gave Rowlf a knowing wink before turning and serving another customer. Rowlf was at least confident in the knowledge that they hadn’t been discovered, not yet at least, which was a good sign. He gave the bartender a nod of thanks for the extra refill before he headed back to the study and another ensuing pool game. When he got there however, he noticed the doorman, Malcom, conversing with Belvedere and Sparks.
“Hey, Dr. Bennington!” the security guard replied, waving at the dog as he entered the room.
“Another doctor?” Mandrake asked, looking at the pianist in surprise. “Excellent!”
“Been wondering how you got around to being Martin,” Kidd began.
“Did you two serve a residency then?” asked Winster.
Rowlf lost his ability to speak for only a moment before his ability to act in just about any situation kicked in. “Not quite,” Rowlf replied. “Different schools, but same discipline, as they say.”
Kidd went to reply but suddenly jerked back, his hand going to his chest; he stumbled against the pool table, gripping the side of it in considerable pain. “Bad news, lads,” he sputtered. “I think I’m in a bit of a spot.”
“Colonel!” the others exclaimed, several of them rushing over to the elder man. Malcom reached him first, catching him before the colonel was able to fall to the ground. “Colonel, what is it?”
“I guess…I guess I never did give the old man a lot of credence when he said the ticker was a bit wonky,” Kidd stammered.
“Quick, Benny, do something!” exclaimed Mandrake, causing the others to look at the pianist, who in turn spun around to look behind him before turning back around and pointing to himself.
“Yes,” Belvedere breathed. “You’re a doctor, you must help him!”
“Uh…”
The problem with that notion was that Rowlf was indeed not a doctor, with only the barest of first aid training to his name that had cured some of his ailments. But never let it be said that Rowlf wasn’t helpful – the steady mix of loyalty and helpfulness had carried him through a lot of things and had made him some lifelong friends and while he didn’t think he’d ever see these men outside of this party, his sense of duty had never and would never leave.
“Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath and the few strides he took him to reach Kidd. “I’m fairly sure this man’s having a heart attack, so one of you boys be good and get an ambulance on the phone and we’ll see what we can do to save his life.”
[hr]
Miss Piggy was not enjoying herself.
The ringleader of this party crash had been bored within the first five minutes after arriving and if not for the approach of the guest of honor and the doorman from the front, she probably would’ve taken off, with her companions in tow. But as it was, Piggy had been rightfully accosted by both, but it wasn’t what she wanted.
Piggy hadn’t been accosted by a fan believing her to be Miss Piggy, leading lady of the Muppets, star of stage and screen; no, she had been accosted because she had blurted out the first name that had occurred to her when asked who she was and because of that, she was now parading around and pretending to be the actor Neil Patrick Harris. In drag.
Talk about the role of a lifetime, only it really wasn’t. As much as Piggy did love the actor and thought his acting and personal life superb, she didn’t really know NPH, so everything she was making up for Dr. Milan was just that – made up. Now, Piggy was a Hollywood darling and as such, she knew how to get the word on the grapevine just in case and not through high tabloid means, but from the source of the source of the source. In this case, while she was aware of the projects he had done, his marriage, and his children, Piggy was swimming blind in a very big pool and without a life guard on duty to boot.
The former trio, which had included Malcom until he had wondered away and off to the study, had been speaking in the center of the living room before Milan steered her towards the circle of seats that had been abandoned by a group of little old ladies. “Mystics,” Milan had said, once they sat down. “They’re actually going to attempt to hold a séance in the den, of all things.”
“A séance?”
“Madame D’s idea,” he elaborated. “She’s a good lady, but a bit lonely I’m afraid. It passes the time, she tells me, but I think there may be something deeper going on, but…it’s hard to refuse such a sweet woman. Anyway, enough about that! I want to know more about how you came to the part of Doogie, especially with no formal training in the matter.”
“Oh!” Piggy chuckled, nervously. “That…that was all method. And a lot studying in the medical library in between takes and all that; before the days of the glorious Internet, computers, and smartphones.”
Milan waved a hand in the air. “I don’t give much credence to such things,” he said. “I prefer the face to face interaction. Why, my publisher had been quite surprised when I sent in my first manuscript, handwritten; it was she who turned me on to the personal computer box, but I didn’t take to it the way you young people seem to. Give me a typewriter or a really good pen,that suits me just fine.”
Noticing she hadn’t had a drink in her hand since they began talking, Milan quickly pointed and said, “Goodness me! Such a polite guest you’ve been to just let me prattle on and I haven’t even offered you a drink. What shall you have?”
“A cosmo, if your bartender can handle it.”
“If he can’t, I’ll make it myself,” Milan boasted, standing from the chair and heading towards the bar.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Piggy quickly began to root around for her phone before finding it in the slim pocket of her pants. She’d already missed a call from Kermit, but it was the whereabouts of Rowlf and Janice that concerned her. She had looked this way and that, with no sign of the rock guitarist or jazz pianist in sight; quickly grouping the two together, she sent out a quick text, wondering – demanding – to know where they were and what they heck they were doing, so they could get the heck out of dodge.
Barely able to hit the send button, Piggy was once again joined by Milan, this time with two drinks in his hands, one in which he handed to her. “Merci,” she replied after taking it.
“You speak French, too!?”
Realizing her mistake, the diva thought of anything that would cover her tracks. “Well,” she began. “I learned a few words in order to…portray the…person I’m portraying.” Leaning over to him, she whispered, “Kinda cheating with the disguise. I ended up going with someone rather famous, unfortunately.”
“Who?”
The internal record in her mind skipped slightly, but she was able to hold on her anger just a little bit longer. “You…you don’t…” she stumbled before shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we don’t mention it, cause…low profile and all.”
“Right,” Milan whispered back and winking. “This so exciting, almost a little covert.”
“Well, I do have some experience with that.”
“Really?” Milan asked, excitedly. “When?”
“You…you never saw the…” Taking a deep breath, Piggy managed to smile and say, “It doesn’t matter.”
[hr]
Janice’s experience with the séance, which culminates in one of the curtains catching fire after a candle is tossed into a nearby waste basket. Janice does her best to warn the group, which take her interruptions to be highly rude. In the end, Janice can only sit helplessly as the curtains go up in the flames, with the ladies noticing nothing.
The Ittie Biddies, as Janice was calling them in her head, had the den all set up for their séance. Madame D had been telling her that Grace was their go to medium, stating that Grace had been involved in several different paranormal sightings and activities since childhood, a result from a horrific bout with rheumatic fever. Dame Gretchen was their resident skeptic who, while liking and believing that Grace saw things at times, was convinced that these things were easily explained, especially in light of the rheumatic fever that she suffered.
The den was like much of the rest of the house – bookshelves lined the walls and there was a desk on the other side of the room, which seemed to have been moved in order to make way for the table that sat in the center. The round oak table had obviously been put in with four people in mind, but Madame D waved off any concerns by pulling over the desk chair for Ambrosia to sit in. While Janice did believe in things that couldn’t be easily explained, she had never been to a séance before, but there was something about the room that was making her a little uneasy.
It probably had something to do with all the candles that had been placed by easily flammable objects.
Janice may not have been to a séance, but she had a computer and she had Scooter; in short, she had the Internet and she was pretty sure that the candles that the ladies were lighting should be on the table and randomly placed around the room. And she was also pretty sure thrt they were using too many candles. “That…is a lot of candles,” she mentioned as Millie walked past her, lighting candles as she went.
“Oh spirits just love the warmth and light,” the elderly woman announced. “Last time, we didn’t have as many, so I don’t think we got very many responses.”
“You…you actually talked to someone?”
“Oh my yes!” Madame D responded. “We talked to a lovely man by the name of…oh what was his name? Anyway, he had just passed on – terrible illness – and he was afraid to move on, but we helped him. We told him his loved ones missed him, yes, but he wasn’t in pain anymore and he was able to find his grandparents and they led him on.”
“Who was that?” asked Grace.
“That young man we spoke to last month,” the Madame replied. “What was his name, do you remember?”
“I think it was Charles…”
“Oh no, it was Christopher,” Millie piped up. “I remember because that’s the name of my grandson.”
“Utter rubbish, if you ask me,” Dame Gretchen said, taking the seat across from Janice. “I certainly don’t believe in the contact of spirits and you shouldn’t either, dear, but I will give it to the old girls, they do make it a spectacle.”
“Gretchen loves spectacles,” Millie sniffed.
“That I do,” the elder woman replied, winking at the blonde.
Once the candles had been lit around the room, Millie was quick to turn off the lights, leaving the room in a well lit, but rather dark and ominous glow. “So…how does this work exactly?” the blonde questioned.
“It’s very simple, my dear,” Madame D replied, taking the seat to Janice’s left. “We hold hands, that’s a good girl, and we close our eyes. Gracie will lead us when she’s ready. Go on, Gracie.”
“Alright ladies,” Gracie began, taking a hold of Gretchen and Millie’s hand at the same time. “Close your eyes and breathe deeply. I am going to set a relaxed environment for which we can commune with those that are no longer with us. I call upon those who have been lost to us, to come forth to our place of tranquility, our place of safety, and warmth…”
As Grace went on with her chanting, Janice cracked open an eye to check on the others, whose eyes were closed tightly and deeply. Just when she was about to clean her eye again, that’s when she noticed the silhouette of something on the wall. That something turned out to be the reflection of the fire.
“Uh…” she whispered. “Madame D…”
“Shush dear.”
“Yeah, but…”
This time, Janice had both eyes opened and she could easily see that the curtain had caught on fire and that fire was steadily moving its way up one side in order to reach the other.
“I really think…” she tried again, only to have Gretchen give her hand a squeeze.
“Shh!”
With a quartet of very distracted biddies, Janice could only sit in panic and wonder as the south wall began to catch on fire and thus spread to the adjacent bookshelf.
In case you've just tuned in - our favorite diva was feeling a bit bored, so she rounded up Rowlfie and the Lady J to crash a local party for a doctor turn physician. Under the alias of Rowlf Bennington, Ambrosia, and Neil Patrick Harris, our party crashers get separated - Rowlf to enjoy a pool game in the study, Ambrosia to the den for a seance, and 'NPH' got ratted out to the host thanks to the doorman.
In this new chapter, we see how all of that plays out, shall we? Let's watch!
Chapter IV
Rowlf wouldn’t say he was a spectacular pool player by any means, but he seemed to be heads above his partner, Winster. That wasn’t to say that the others were as weak, as apparent from the way Col. Kidd was playing for keeps; the colonel obviously had some skill, which he proceeded to show off every time he took a shot. Kidd was exactly as the bartender said – a pool shark, but an engaging one at least.
The group had broken in to three groups of two, for what should have been a friendly game of pool, and it was! It wasn’t to say that Rowlf wasn’t enjoying the game or the conversation, he was, and it certainly was taking the time that he would be just roaming around doing nothing. He did wonder what the girls were doing, while he was enjoying the company of these obvious former military friends and the friendly game that came with.
He did get to learn a little more about his companions while he played. Being the only person who didn’t truly know who Martin Milan was, Rowlf took his cue to learn more about this guy, just in the case he’d run into the doctor and he started asking questions. Milan had been a doctor in his youth before turning to the written word, which not only helped to further his physician career, but launched him into the stratosphere as an author. Milan was pretty much a well off kid who grew up to be a well off adult, but from the description he got from his fellow military comrades, Rowlf discovered that Milan was pretty to earth.
And it was his hope, that should the good doctor discover the uninvited guests, he’d still be a down to earth guy.
The pool game soon ended, with Rowlf and Winster barely scraping by for the win, thanks to a lucky shot by Winster. “Good game, boys,” Kidd replied, nodding to the winners. “I think we could use some freshening on our drinks, what do you say?”
“I’m up for that,” Rowlf said, lifting up his empty glass.
“We’ve got a flask of Brandy, if that be your poison, Benny,” Mandrake said.
“I’m a whiskey kind of dog,” the pianist said. “I’ll get a topper from the bar keep. Be right back.”
As Rowlf headed out, he made sure to keep an eye out for both Piggy and Janice and didn’t see either one of them, which was a little odd. Figuring the two of them might be off with some of the other guests, the dog didn’t think another thing about it as he made his way to the same bar and barkeep behind it. “Got caught up in that game, did you?” he asked, once he saw the dog approach.
“Not bad a game,” Rowlf replied, setting his drink down to be refilled. “Managed to win, but you’re right; that colonel’s a pool shark alright.”
“Told ya.” The barkeep began to fill the glass, before he looked around for anyone that was listening and then leaned closer to Rowlf. “Heard there was a celebrity here,” he whispered.
That got him. “Really?” he asked, casually. This whole thing hinged on the fact that no one would recognized them, but if they had been found out, it could be worse for everyone involved. He was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten ousted or else his companions would be making a bigger deal than they were or perhaps, a bigger deal than they were letting on; if he had to guess, he was pretty sure it was Piggy. There was no way she could’ve stayed unknown, even in this crowd; the diva was not the kind of girl that wanted to be ignored, and even she did want to be ignored, she made it awfully hard to ignore her.
Those baby blues and that personality could draw anyone in, especially the males of the species and Rowlf knew from experience. There wasn’t a male in the Muppets who hadn’t been a victim to her charms.
“Who’s the celebrity?”
The bartender shrugged. “Not sure,” he said. “I haven’t seen anyone, yet. And I haven’t heard who the celebrity was, but no worries; when I find who it is, I’ll let you know.” The bartender gave Rowlf a knowing wink before turning and serving another customer. Rowlf was at least confident in the knowledge that they hadn’t been discovered, not yet at least, which was a good sign. He gave the bartender a nod of thanks for the extra refill before he headed back to the study and another ensuing pool game. When he got there however, he noticed the doorman, Malcom, conversing with Belvedere and Sparks.
“Hey, Dr. Bennington!” the security guard replied, waving at the dog as he entered the room.
“Another doctor?” Mandrake asked, looking at the pianist in surprise. “Excellent!”
“Been wondering how you got around to being Martin,” Kidd began.
“Did you two serve a residency then?” asked Winster.
Rowlf lost his ability to speak for only a moment before his ability to act in just about any situation kicked in. “Not quite,” Rowlf replied. “Different schools, but same discipline, as they say.”
Kidd went to reply but suddenly jerked back, his hand going to his chest; he stumbled against the pool table, gripping the side of it in considerable pain. “Bad news, lads,” he sputtered. “I think I’m in a bit of a spot.”
“Colonel!” the others exclaimed, several of them rushing over to the elder man. Malcom reached him first, catching him before the colonel was able to fall to the ground. “Colonel, what is it?”
“I guess…I guess I never did give the old man a lot of credence when he said the ticker was a bit wonky,” Kidd stammered.
“Quick, Benny, do something!” exclaimed Mandrake, causing the others to look at the pianist, who in turn spun around to look behind him before turning back around and pointing to himself.
“Yes,” Belvedere breathed. “You’re a doctor, you must help him!”
“Uh…”
The problem with that notion was that Rowlf was indeed not a doctor, with only the barest of first aid training to his name that had cured some of his ailments. But never let it be said that Rowlf wasn’t helpful – the steady mix of loyalty and helpfulness had carried him through a lot of things and had made him some lifelong friends and while he didn’t think he’d ever see these men outside of this party, his sense of duty had never and would never leave.
“Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath and the few strides he took him to reach Kidd. “I’m fairly sure this man’s having a heart attack, so one of you boys be good and get an ambulance on the phone and we’ll see what we can do to save his life.”
[hr]
Miss Piggy was not enjoying herself.
The ringleader of this party crash had been bored within the first five minutes after arriving and if not for the approach of the guest of honor and the doorman from the front, she probably would’ve taken off, with her companions in tow. But as it was, Piggy had been rightfully accosted by both, but it wasn’t what she wanted.
Piggy hadn’t been accosted by a fan believing her to be Miss Piggy, leading lady of the Muppets, star of stage and screen; no, she had been accosted because she had blurted out the first name that had occurred to her when asked who she was and because of that, she was now parading around and pretending to be the actor Neil Patrick Harris. In drag.
Talk about the role of a lifetime, only it really wasn’t. As much as Piggy did love the actor and thought his acting and personal life superb, she didn’t really know NPH, so everything she was making up for Dr. Milan was just that – made up. Now, Piggy was a Hollywood darling and as such, she knew how to get the word on the grapevine just in case and not through high tabloid means, but from the source of the source of the source. In this case, while she was aware of the projects he had done, his marriage, and his children, Piggy was swimming blind in a very big pool and without a life guard on duty to boot.
The former trio, which had included Malcom until he had wondered away and off to the study, had been speaking in the center of the living room before Milan steered her towards the circle of seats that had been abandoned by a group of little old ladies. “Mystics,” Milan had said, once they sat down. “They’re actually going to attempt to hold a séance in the den, of all things.”
“A séance?”
“Madame D’s idea,” he elaborated. “She’s a good lady, but a bit lonely I’m afraid. It passes the time, she tells me, but I think there may be something deeper going on, but…it’s hard to refuse such a sweet woman. Anyway, enough about that! I want to know more about how you came to the part of Doogie, especially with no formal training in the matter.”
“Oh!” Piggy chuckled, nervously. “That…that was all method. And a lot studying in the medical library in between takes and all that; before the days of the glorious Internet, computers, and smartphones.”
Milan waved a hand in the air. “I don’t give much credence to such things,” he said. “I prefer the face to face interaction. Why, my publisher had been quite surprised when I sent in my first manuscript, handwritten; it was she who turned me on to the personal computer box, but I didn’t take to it the way you young people seem to. Give me a typewriter or a really good pen,that suits me just fine.”
Noticing she hadn’t had a drink in her hand since they began talking, Milan quickly pointed and said, “Goodness me! Such a polite guest you’ve been to just let me prattle on and I haven’t even offered you a drink. What shall you have?”
“A cosmo, if your bartender can handle it.”
“If he can’t, I’ll make it myself,” Milan boasted, standing from the chair and heading towards the bar.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Piggy quickly began to root around for her phone before finding it in the slim pocket of her pants. She’d already missed a call from Kermit, but it was the whereabouts of Rowlf and Janice that concerned her. She had looked this way and that, with no sign of the rock guitarist or jazz pianist in sight; quickly grouping the two together, she sent out a quick text, wondering – demanding – to know where they were and what they heck they were doing, so they could get the heck out of dodge.
Barely able to hit the send button, Piggy was once again joined by Milan, this time with two drinks in his hands, one in which he handed to her. “Merci,” she replied after taking it.
“You speak French, too!?”
Realizing her mistake, the diva thought of anything that would cover her tracks. “Well,” she began. “I learned a few words in order to…portray the…person I’m portraying.” Leaning over to him, she whispered, “Kinda cheating with the disguise. I ended up going with someone rather famous, unfortunately.”
“Who?”
The internal record in her mind skipped slightly, but she was able to hold on her anger just a little bit longer. “You…you don’t…” she stumbled before shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we don’t mention it, cause…low profile and all.”
“Right,” Milan whispered back and winking. “This so exciting, almost a little covert.”
“Well, I do have some experience with that.”
“Really?” Milan asked, excitedly. “When?”
“You…you never saw the…” Taking a deep breath, Piggy managed to smile and say, “It doesn’t matter.”
[hr]
Janice’s experience with the séance, which culminates in one of the curtains catching fire after a candle is tossed into a nearby waste basket. Janice does her best to warn the group, which take her interruptions to be highly rude. In the end, Janice can only sit helplessly as the curtains go up in the flames, with the ladies noticing nothing.
The Ittie Biddies, as Janice was calling them in her head, had the den all set up for their séance. Madame D had been telling her that Grace was their go to medium, stating that Grace had been involved in several different paranormal sightings and activities since childhood, a result from a horrific bout with rheumatic fever. Dame Gretchen was their resident skeptic who, while liking and believing that Grace saw things at times, was convinced that these things were easily explained, especially in light of the rheumatic fever that she suffered.
The den was like much of the rest of the house – bookshelves lined the walls and there was a desk on the other side of the room, which seemed to have been moved in order to make way for the table that sat in the center. The round oak table had obviously been put in with four people in mind, but Madame D waved off any concerns by pulling over the desk chair for Ambrosia to sit in. While Janice did believe in things that couldn’t be easily explained, she had never been to a séance before, but there was something about the room that was making her a little uneasy.
It probably had something to do with all the candles that had been placed by easily flammable objects.
Janice may not have been to a séance, but she had a computer and she had Scooter; in short, she had the Internet and she was pretty sure that the candles that the ladies were lighting should be on the table and randomly placed around the room. And she was also pretty sure thrt they were using too many candles. “That…is a lot of candles,” she mentioned as Millie walked past her, lighting candles as she went.
“Oh spirits just love the warmth and light,” the elderly woman announced. “Last time, we didn’t have as many, so I don’t think we got very many responses.”
“You…you actually talked to someone?”
“Oh my yes!” Madame D responded. “We talked to a lovely man by the name of…oh what was his name? Anyway, he had just passed on – terrible illness – and he was afraid to move on, but we helped him. We told him his loved ones missed him, yes, but he wasn’t in pain anymore and he was able to find his grandparents and they led him on.”
“Who was that?” asked Grace.
“That young man we spoke to last month,” the Madame replied. “What was his name, do you remember?”
“I think it was Charles…”
“Oh no, it was Christopher,” Millie piped up. “I remember because that’s the name of my grandson.”
“Utter rubbish, if you ask me,” Dame Gretchen said, taking the seat across from Janice. “I certainly don’t believe in the contact of spirits and you shouldn’t either, dear, but I will give it to the old girls, they do make it a spectacle.”
“Gretchen loves spectacles,” Millie sniffed.
“That I do,” the elder woman replied, winking at the blonde.
Once the candles had been lit around the room, Millie was quick to turn off the lights, leaving the room in a well lit, but rather dark and ominous glow. “So…how does this work exactly?” the blonde questioned.
“It’s very simple, my dear,” Madame D replied, taking the seat to Janice’s left. “We hold hands, that’s a good girl, and we close our eyes. Gracie will lead us when she’s ready. Go on, Gracie.”
“Alright ladies,” Gracie began, taking a hold of Gretchen and Millie’s hand at the same time. “Close your eyes and breathe deeply. I am going to set a relaxed environment for which we can commune with those that are no longer with us. I call upon those who have been lost to us, to come forth to our place of tranquility, our place of safety, and warmth…”
As Grace went on with her chanting, Janice cracked open an eye to check on the others, whose eyes were closed tightly and deeply. Just when she was about to clean her eye again, that’s when she noticed the silhouette of something on the wall. That something turned out to be the reflection of the fire.
“Uh…” she whispered. “Madame D…”
“Shush dear.”
“Yeah, but…”
This time, Janice had both eyes opened and she could easily see that the curtain had caught on fire and that fire was steadily moving its way up one side in order to reach the other.
“I really think…” she tried again, only to have Gretchen give her hand a squeeze.
“Shh!”
With a quartet of very distracted biddies, Janice could only sit in panic and wonder as the south wall began to catch on fire and thus spread to the adjacent bookshelf.
AlittleMayhem
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Oh me, oh my, oh no! However do they get themselves out of these sticky situations?!
Another terrific update! I do enjoy this fic very much!
Another terrific update! I do enjoy this fic very much!
WebMistressGina
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- Mar 26, 2012
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Holla, Mupps! Firstly, let's give it up for the new forums, yeah? Shiny! Got a little worried when I came by on Saturday and there was no forum (cause in my experience, it means the forums have disappeared into the great Internet void), but luckily there it was when I came back yesterday.
Secondly, of course big apologies for the lateness in everything. In case you missed it, I hit the big 35 nearly two weeks ago and with that, I started making a change in my career, along with my ever changing job schedule kinda pushed this and the Mondays back a bit. But that's why I'm here today! I have an update for you and if you're good, you'll actually get a Monday on a Monday
Here's your new chapter of the Great Impostors and we're coming up on the end here. In case you forgot what's been going on, here's a recap for you - bored and looking for something to do, Piggy, Rowlf, and Janice decide to crash a book signing/release for one Dr. Martin Milan. While there, the three take on different personalities, including one Neil Patrick Harris, and begin mingling with the party guests.
Rowlf gets sucked into a pool game with some of the military men from the host's past, when one of them has a heart attack, causing them to call on Rowlf's persona as a doctor; Janice decides to lend her hand in a seance and gets in a panic when the many candles surrounding them catch the curtains and books on fire; Piggy, parading around as actor Neil Patrick Harris in disguise, gets found out by the host, who has been a fan since the actor's childhood role as Dr. Doogie Howser.
Let's see how our trio gets out of this one, right?
Chapter V
Whatever plans the guests at the Martin Milan party had quickly went out the window when the ambulance and the police were called.
Colonel Kidd, one of the guests, had seemingly started having a heart attack within the study and his companions were at a loss as to what to do; luckily for them, there had been a doctor in the room and this doctor had managed to save the Colonel’s life. And now he was the talk of the party, but no one seemed to be able to find him.
To couple with that, word had gotten out that Neil Patrick Harris was somewhere in the room, but like the good doctor, seemed to have disappeared within the house.
What the guests didn’t know was that both of these people, including a third who was trying to manage the unknown fire that had sprung up in the den, were frauds. Not in the sense that they weren’t themselves members of the elite and stars within their own means, only that their presence at the party was done in farce, a passing fancy that had attracted the eye of one of them, with the hopes of a spectacular night.
This, of course, was not what they had in mind.
Miss Piggy, the ever elusive ‘NPH’, had been bored within the first five minutes of being in the room. Not only did none of them even recognized her – I mean, really! – but they were the high, stuffy, academics, who discussed Chaucer and Tennyson as though discussing the weather; who debated the merits of independent art versus that of the refined articles they saw in museums. This wasn’t to say that Piggy was herself a snob when it came to the educated, quite the opposite, but there was a difference between speaking with people who were educated and speaking with people who were educated and wanted you to know it.
Piggy’s evening had been spent trying to entertain the host of the party, who had caught wind of her alias and had been peppering her with questions and conversation for most of the night. And because she hadn’t even considered anyone cornering her or even discovering who she was pretending to be, most of the information she was giving was probably about 75% inaccurate or made up; fortunately for her, Milan knew less about the things that NPH had done since his Doogie Howser days, which made it quite easy to insert things that probably didn’t happen or wouldn’t happen. This included a big role that was coming up, featuring the fabulous Miss Piggy, and a Broadway role to run after his current stint.
It…sort of built up from there and Piggy was just thankful that when she finally found her traveling companions, they could blow this Popsicle stand and Milan would have a story and nothing else.
That is…until she started hearing rumors of people calling an ambulance. And the police.
“What uh…what um…” she stammered, doing her best to look nonplussed. “What was that about the police?”
“I’m not sure,” Milan replied, looking around at the commotion that was starting to happen. “Jerry, what’s going on?”
Jerry, a passerby with fuzzy gray hair that matched the identical eyebrows on his face, stopped and leaned towards the two. “Someone’s had a heart attack,” he whispered.
“Dear me!” Milan exclaimed. “Are they alright? Should we be calling an ambulance?”
“I think Poppy’s got it,” Jerry replied. “Luckily, there was a doctor there and it sounds like the person’s alright, but we’re getting an ambulance as soon as possible. You never know about these things. Why, my Uncle Rufus had a heart attack once, right outside his door and…”
Piggy took that moment to slip away, thankful that Jerry managed to keep Milan entertained for the moment. This was not good. The last thing they wanted or needed was the police coming by and asking a bunch of questions that they would be forced to answer and that would, most likely, get them thrown in the stony lonesome for the night, which meant calling someone and regardless of who it was, it would get back to Kermit; that, she was sure of. No, the best thing was to call it a night and basically disappear into the night the same way they appeared, if she could find Rowlf and Janice. Where the heck could those two have gotten to?
Milling through the crowd, Piggy managed to make her way to the mini bar that had been setup and finally ran into someone she knew. “There you are!” she hissed, causing the brown dog to turn her way. “Where have you been? Did you hear the news?”
“Uh…”
“Dr. B. here’s a total hero,” the bartender whispered.
Turning with the intent on telling the bartender to shut it, something that he said triggered an abrupt halt in that command. “You don’t say.”
The bartender nodded, ignoring the panicked look on Rowlf’s face, as well as the repeated shaking of his head. “I know you don’t want me to say anything,” he said. “But you totally deserve cred, dude. Totally.”
Piggy turned to look at Rowlf, Rowlf turned to look at Piggy.
“Dr. B, could I see you over here for a moment?” the diva asked sweetly, though the iron clad grip that she put on the dog’s arm was anything but sweet. “You’ll excuse us, won’t you?” Dragging him off to the side, she hissed, “What did you do?”
Rowlf cleared his throat a few times and rubbed the back of his neck a few times before he sheepishly answered, “Saved a man’s life.”
“Idiot!” she hissed, the slap on the arm given extra emphasis. “What part of ‘low key’ did you not understand?”
“Well, it’s kinda hard to do when you get marked and called out as a doctor!” he angrily whispered back. “Besides, I couldn’t let him die; how would that look?”
Sucking in a frustrated sigh, running a palm down her face with one hand and balling a tight fist with the other, Piggy strived to do her best and wait until they were far away from here in order to kill her pianist. Of course, he was right – he couldn’t just stand there and watch the man die, that was a given, and thankfully no one other than the bartender and maybe the person he saved knew who he was, so many they could get out of this still intact.
“When we get outside,” she muttered. “I’m so going to deck you.” Taking a deep breath and exhaling, she asked the other important question of the night. “And where is Janice?”
Janice, or Ambrosia, for the night had been spending her time trying to alert the members of her séance that the room was on fire, despite the fact that many of the occupants expressed concerns that it was ‘suddenly hot as all get out’ and that the room was ‘growing uncomfortably warm’. Twice the guitarist tried to make a break for it, getting chastised that a break in the psychic chain would undo the connection to the spirit world, but finally, as she watched the north side of the wall catch fire, she made the excuse that she needed to go to the bathroom immediately and was quickly, and disappointedly, let go from the group.
Wanting to get help, but also not wanting to let these four elder ladies die in a house fire, Janice was torn as to what to do; while the ladies were doing their chanting, she was running around the room looking for a fire extinguisher and having about as much as she was trying to warn the women about the fire. Settling on a pitcher of water that was on the desk, she threw the whole thing on the north wall, which of course only managed to stop some of the fire from spreading, however the eastern wall was pretty much destroying the house and was now also eating up the south wall.
Seeing no choice but to get an actual extinguisher and probably some actual help, Janice quickly rushed from the room, passing by a number of people who thankfully could see the flames from the doorway.
It was of course at that time when she was spotted by Rowlf and Piggy, who flagged her over.
“Where’ve you been?” Rowlf asked.
“Nowhere!” the blonde exclaimed. “Why? What’ve you heard?”
“That is a sentence that I never want to hear from you,” Piggy stated, suspiciously. “What’ve you done?”
“Nothing!” Janice insisted, holding up her hand in defense. “And if anyone asks, it’s like…a small fire. And I did everything I could to put it out, though the host guy totally needs to put extinguishers in readily available and easy to reach areas.”
Both diva and pianist looked at her.
“Say what?” asked Piggy.
“What fire?” asked Rowlf.
While the fire had finally gotten the attention that it needed, it came at a cost. After the fact, it would be discovered that a faulty gas line happened to be behind the south wall; at the moment, no one knew about it, so when the explosion happened, it surprised everyone in the home, including the four ladies that were sitting in the room. “I got your sign, Archie!” yelled Gretchen.
“That one,” Janice whimpered, as the three watched people scramble to put out the fire, right as the sounds of paramedics, police, and fire services began roaring in the background.
“Alright,” Piggy announced. “Time to go.”
“Right,” Rowlf nodded.
The three began to make their way towards the kitchen, where there would hopefully be a backdoor in which they could escape. “Hey wait,” Janice said. “Shouldn’t we say goodbye to Dr. Milan?”
“No!” Piggy cried, clearing her throat and smiling as someone passed by them. “No, no, that’s…totally out of the question.”
“Why?”
Piggy began to giggle, a nervous habit she developed when nervous or when she had been caught in a ruse and needed to cover her tracks. In this case, it was both. “Look,” she started. “In the course of the evening…Moi may have…innocently! Insinuated…that Moi was…Neil Patrick Harris.”
Both guitarist and pianist looked at her.
“Oh don’t give me that,” she interrupted. “You knew what we were getting in to when we walked in here and you knew who I was kinda, sorta pretending to be.”
“Yeah,” Rowlf huffed. “And we kinda, sorta thought you’d pretend to be the person that the guard put on the list.”
“Yeah, well…” Piggy began. “That…kinda, sorta didn’t happen so…I didn’t make the house explode, so there.”
“Oh burn!” Janice complained, as the trio made their escape through the kitchen and out the backdoor, just as the emergency services began to arrive on the scene. Rushing out through the back gate and rounded around the block, until they were standing firmly across the street, watching the events unfold, just like some of the other neighbors that had meandered out of their homes to see what was going on.
The night should have been like any other - where they would just be drinking, dancing, and discussing all things Hollywood; instead the event had taken a turn when the coat room had taken on an unexpected fire and questions were starting to be asked. As the three looked at each other, it was unanimously decided that they would go their separate ways until they would need to meet up tomorrow in order to do the dress rehearsals for their weekly TV show.
Not a word was said between the three, as they all turned and walked off into separate areas, determined to go their separate ways in order to block that particular night out. It would be in the papers the next morning, how a party had gone from small to house fire in what seemed a manner of minutes, but it was the hope that this incident wouldn’t come back to haunt them.
Or so they hoped.
Once Piggy had gotten inside the car, she immediately grabbed her cell and called the first number she came across, which just happened to be Rowlf’s. “So if anyone asks,” she began. “We were not here, Rowlfington the third, Ambrosia, and NPH were, but we were not. We have been at Schotsky’s all night, which is where Moi is headed right now and Moi expects you to show up momentarily.”
[hr]
Schotsky’s Bar was a little out of the way place that the founding five, as they were called, had discovered back in the days when they were still meeting and greeting each other, still coming up with the idea that would grow to be the Muppet Show. Because of this, many of the bartenders and wait staff were familiar with the various members of the group who would stop by and it was this that would help to save all of their bacons should someone ask on their whereabouts.
And certainly the fifty bucks Piggy slipped to the Mighty Mac as he tended bar didn’t hurt.
For the rest of the night, that’s where the three held up, drinking and doing everything possible to avoid discussing the night they just had.
Secondly, of course big apologies for the lateness in everything. In case you missed it, I hit the big 35 nearly two weeks ago and with that, I started making a change in my career, along with my ever changing job schedule kinda pushed this and the Mondays back a bit. But that's why I'm here today! I have an update for you and if you're good, you'll actually get a Monday on a Monday
Here's your new chapter of the Great Impostors and we're coming up on the end here. In case you forgot what's been going on, here's a recap for you - bored and looking for something to do, Piggy, Rowlf, and Janice decide to crash a book signing/release for one Dr. Martin Milan. While there, the three take on different personalities, including one Neil Patrick Harris, and begin mingling with the party guests.
Rowlf gets sucked into a pool game with some of the military men from the host's past, when one of them has a heart attack, causing them to call on Rowlf's persona as a doctor; Janice decides to lend her hand in a seance and gets in a panic when the many candles surrounding them catch the curtains and books on fire; Piggy, parading around as actor Neil Patrick Harris in disguise, gets found out by the host, who has been a fan since the actor's childhood role as Dr. Doogie Howser.
Let's see how our trio gets out of this one, right?
Chapter V
Whatever plans the guests at the Martin Milan party had quickly went out the window when the ambulance and the police were called.
Colonel Kidd, one of the guests, had seemingly started having a heart attack within the study and his companions were at a loss as to what to do; luckily for them, there had been a doctor in the room and this doctor had managed to save the Colonel’s life. And now he was the talk of the party, but no one seemed to be able to find him.
To couple with that, word had gotten out that Neil Patrick Harris was somewhere in the room, but like the good doctor, seemed to have disappeared within the house.
What the guests didn’t know was that both of these people, including a third who was trying to manage the unknown fire that had sprung up in the den, were frauds. Not in the sense that they weren’t themselves members of the elite and stars within their own means, only that their presence at the party was done in farce, a passing fancy that had attracted the eye of one of them, with the hopes of a spectacular night.
This, of course, was not what they had in mind.
Miss Piggy, the ever elusive ‘NPH’, had been bored within the first five minutes of being in the room. Not only did none of them even recognized her – I mean, really! – but they were the high, stuffy, academics, who discussed Chaucer and Tennyson as though discussing the weather; who debated the merits of independent art versus that of the refined articles they saw in museums. This wasn’t to say that Piggy was herself a snob when it came to the educated, quite the opposite, but there was a difference between speaking with people who were educated and speaking with people who were educated and wanted you to know it.
Piggy’s evening had been spent trying to entertain the host of the party, who had caught wind of her alias and had been peppering her with questions and conversation for most of the night. And because she hadn’t even considered anyone cornering her or even discovering who she was pretending to be, most of the information she was giving was probably about 75% inaccurate or made up; fortunately for her, Milan knew less about the things that NPH had done since his Doogie Howser days, which made it quite easy to insert things that probably didn’t happen or wouldn’t happen. This included a big role that was coming up, featuring the fabulous Miss Piggy, and a Broadway role to run after his current stint.
It…sort of built up from there and Piggy was just thankful that when she finally found her traveling companions, they could blow this Popsicle stand and Milan would have a story and nothing else.
That is…until she started hearing rumors of people calling an ambulance. And the police.
“What uh…what um…” she stammered, doing her best to look nonplussed. “What was that about the police?”
“I’m not sure,” Milan replied, looking around at the commotion that was starting to happen. “Jerry, what’s going on?”
Jerry, a passerby with fuzzy gray hair that matched the identical eyebrows on his face, stopped and leaned towards the two. “Someone’s had a heart attack,” he whispered.
“Dear me!” Milan exclaimed. “Are they alright? Should we be calling an ambulance?”
“I think Poppy’s got it,” Jerry replied. “Luckily, there was a doctor there and it sounds like the person’s alright, but we’re getting an ambulance as soon as possible. You never know about these things. Why, my Uncle Rufus had a heart attack once, right outside his door and…”
Piggy took that moment to slip away, thankful that Jerry managed to keep Milan entertained for the moment. This was not good. The last thing they wanted or needed was the police coming by and asking a bunch of questions that they would be forced to answer and that would, most likely, get them thrown in the stony lonesome for the night, which meant calling someone and regardless of who it was, it would get back to Kermit; that, she was sure of. No, the best thing was to call it a night and basically disappear into the night the same way they appeared, if she could find Rowlf and Janice. Where the heck could those two have gotten to?
Milling through the crowd, Piggy managed to make her way to the mini bar that had been setup and finally ran into someone she knew. “There you are!” she hissed, causing the brown dog to turn her way. “Where have you been? Did you hear the news?”
“Uh…”
“Dr. B. here’s a total hero,” the bartender whispered.
Turning with the intent on telling the bartender to shut it, something that he said triggered an abrupt halt in that command. “You don’t say.”
The bartender nodded, ignoring the panicked look on Rowlf’s face, as well as the repeated shaking of his head. “I know you don’t want me to say anything,” he said. “But you totally deserve cred, dude. Totally.”
Piggy turned to look at Rowlf, Rowlf turned to look at Piggy.
“Dr. B, could I see you over here for a moment?” the diva asked sweetly, though the iron clad grip that she put on the dog’s arm was anything but sweet. “You’ll excuse us, won’t you?” Dragging him off to the side, she hissed, “What did you do?”
Rowlf cleared his throat a few times and rubbed the back of his neck a few times before he sheepishly answered, “Saved a man’s life.”
“Idiot!” she hissed, the slap on the arm given extra emphasis. “What part of ‘low key’ did you not understand?”
“Well, it’s kinda hard to do when you get marked and called out as a doctor!” he angrily whispered back. “Besides, I couldn’t let him die; how would that look?”
Sucking in a frustrated sigh, running a palm down her face with one hand and balling a tight fist with the other, Piggy strived to do her best and wait until they were far away from here in order to kill her pianist. Of course, he was right – he couldn’t just stand there and watch the man die, that was a given, and thankfully no one other than the bartender and maybe the person he saved knew who he was, so many they could get out of this still intact.
“When we get outside,” she muttered. “I’m so going to deck you.” Taking a deep breath and exhaling, she asked the other important question of the night. “And where is Janice?”
Janice, or Ambrosia, for the night had been spending her time trying to alert the members of her séance that the room was on fire, despite the fact that many of the occupants expressed concerns that it was ‘suddenly hot as all get out’ and that the room was ‘growing uncomfortably warm’. Twice the guitarist tried to make a break for it, getting chastised that a break in the psychic chain would undo the connection to the spirit world, but finally, as she watched the north side of the wall catch fire, she made the excuse that she needed to go to the bathroom immediately and was quickly, and disappointedly, let go from the group.
Wanting to get help, but also not wanting to let these four elder ladies die in a house fire, Janice was torn as to what to do; while the ladies were doing their chanting, she was running around the room looking for a fire extinguisher and having about as much as she was trying to warn the women about the fire. Settling on a pitcher of water that was on the desk, she threw the whole thing on the north wall, which of course only managed to stop some of the fire from spreading, however the eastern wall was pretty much destroying the house and was now also eating up the south wall.
Seeing no choice but to get an actual extinguisher and probably some actual help, Janice quickly rushed from the room, passing by a number of people who thankfully could see the flames from the doorway.
It was of course at that time when she was spotted by Rowlf and Piggy, who flagged her over.
“Where’ve you been?” Rowlf asked.
“Nowhere!” the blonde exclaimed. “Why? What’ve you heard?”
“That is a sentence that I never want to hear from you,” Piggy stated, suspiciously. “What’ve you done?”
“Nothing!” Janice insisted, holding up her hand in defense. “And if anyone asks, it’s like…a small fire. And I did everything I could to put it out, though the host guy totally needs to put extinguishers in readily available and easy to reach areas.”
Both diva and pianist looked at her.
“Say what?” asked Piggy.
“What fire?” asked Rowlf.
While the fire had finally gotten the attention that it needed, it came at a cost. After the fact, it would be discovered that a faulty gas line happened to be behind the south wall; at the moment, no one knew about it, so when the explosion happened, it surprised everyone in the home, including the four ladies that were sitting in the room. “I got your sign, Archie!” yelled Gretchen.
“That one,” Janice whimpered, as the three watched people scramble to put out the fire, right as the sounds of paramedics, police, and fire services began roaring in the background.
“Alright,” Piggy announced. “Time to go.”
“Right,” Rowlf nodded.
The three began to make their way towards the kitchen, where there would hopefully be a backdoor in which they could escape. “Hey wait,” Janice said. “Shouldn’t we say goodbye to Dr. Milan?”
“No!” Piggy cried, clearing her throat and smiling as someone passed by them. “No, no, that’s…totally out of the question.”
“Why?”
Piggy began to giggle, a nervous habit she developed when nervous or when she had been caught in a ruse and needed to cover her tracks. In this case, it was both. “Look,” she started. “In the course of the evening…Moi may have…innocently! Insinuated…that Moi was…Neil Patrick Harris.”
Both guitarist and pianist looked at her.
“Oh don’t give me that,” she interrupted. “You knew what we were getting in to when we walked in here and you knew who I was kinda, sorta pretending to be.”
“Yeah,” Rowlf huffed. “And we kinda, sorta thought you’d pretend to be the person that the guard put on the list.”
“Yeah, well…” Piggy began. “That…kinda, sorta didn’t happen so…I didn’t make the house explode, so there.”
“Oh burn!” Janice complained, as the trio made their escape through the kitchen and out the backdoor, just as the emergency services began to arrive on the scene. Rushing out through the back gate and rounded around the block, until they were standing firmly across the street, watching the events unfold, just like some of the other neighbors that had meandered out of their homes to see what was going on.
The night should have been like any other - where they would just be drinking, dancing, and discussing all things Hollywood; instead the event had taken a turn when the coat room had taken on an unexpected fire and questions were starting to be asked. As the three looked at each other, it was unanimously decided that they would go their separate ways until they would need to meet up tomorrow in order to do the dress rehearsals for their weekly TV show.
Not a word was said between the three, as they all turned and walked off into separate areas, determined to go their separate ways in order to block that particular night out. It would be in the papers the next morning, how a party had gone from small to house fire in what seemed a manner of minutes, but it was the hope that this incident wouldn’t come back to haunt them.
Or so they hoped.
Once Piggy had gotten inside the car, she immediately grabbed her cell and called the first number she came across, which just happened to be Rowlf’s. “So if anyone asks,” she began. “We were not here, Rowlfington the third, Ambrosia, and NPH were, but we were not. We have been at Schotsky’s all night, which is where Moi is headed right now and Moi expects you to show up momentarily.”
[hr]
Schotsky’s Bar was a little out of the way place that the founding five, as they were called, had discovered back in the days when they were still meeting and greeting each other, still coming up with the idea that would grow to be the Muppet Show. Because of this, many of the bartenders and wait staff were familiar with the various members of the group who would stop by and it was this that would help to save all of their bacons should someone ask on their whereabouts.
And certainly the fifty bucks Piggy slipped to the Mighty Mac as he tended bar didn’t hurt.
For the rest of the night, that’s where the three held up, drinking and doing everything possible to avoid discussing the night they just had.