Hoo-hah, this is a long chapter. But it has ush-gush!
*****
Growing Together
Part 11: Fantasies Come True
by Kim McFarland
*****
It was the Sunday evening before the third show of the set. Everyone was fairly relaxed, because by now they had a pretty good idea of what they were doing.
Gonzo and Camilla had a guest. Gonzo had decided to bring their daughter Billie to the theater. She had been here before, as arranging babysitting during a show could be tricky if all of the hens were performing, but not often. The chick was enjoying the change of scenery, both figuratively and literally.
When Weird Al arrived Billie stared. She knew everyone else at the theater; she regarded them as part of her family. This person was new! She pointed at him and asked Gonzo, "Who das, Daddy?"
"That's Weird Al," Gonzo told her.
Billie waved to Al. "Hi! I'm Billie!"
Surprised, Al said, "I didn't know you had kids."
"Just the one, so far," Gonzo said, smiling at the chick. "Camilla keep our private life private. We don't want people bugging us. We had enough of that when we got married."
"I heard about that," Al said. "It blew over pretty quickly, though."
"Yep. Thank goodness."
Billie held her arms out to Al and said, "Up!"
"Do you mind?" Al asked Gonzo.
"Go ahead."
Weird Al picked Billie up. The chick was happily amazed by this pink being with the colorful shirt. She grinned at him and began stroking his hair, intrigued by its texture. Gonzo smiled as he watched them. Weird Al had a daughter too, and in fact he'd cut back on his musical life to put his family first. Gonzo could see the sense in that. Since Billie's hatching, there had been a lot more in Gonzo's life than the next stunt. It was a change he had never regretted.
Billie was as happy and curious as any two-year-old chick. Yet Gonzo had never taken her out of the house because he thought he had to protect her from the world. The same people who had harassed Gonzo for wanting to marry a chicken might harass their child merely for existing. He couldn't bear the thought of them mistreating her like that... but he couldn't keep her a secret forever. He couldn't raise her in a box.
*
Kermit tapped on Miss Piggy's dressing room door. "Piggy?"
"Come in."
Kermit went in and shut the door behind himself. She was seated at her makeup table brushing out her hair. "Scooter said you wanted to talk with me about an act."
"Yes. I'd like to do One More Minute in tonight's show."
That was the last thing Kermit would have guessed. "I got the impression you didn't like that number much."
"It did catch me by surprise the first time," she said with a casual wave. "But after that show we saw today I started thinking. It doesn't do to take oneself too seriously, does it?"
"What do you have in mind?" he asked cautiously.
She laughed a stage laugh. "Really, Kermie, don't you trust me? I want it to be a surprise."
"On who?"
"I promise I won't maim Al, if that's what you're worried about."
Kermit wanted to know more, but, he thought, Miss Piggy had something planned, and she wouldn't intentionally make herself look bad onstage. If there was one thing she was protective of, it was her image. He said, "Plan it out with Al. If you can sell it to him, I'll slip it in. But I'm not going to take out Dare to be Stupid."
"Of course not. I'll need it to be in the first act so I'll have time to change costumes and do my hair."
"All right. As long as you plan it with Weird Al."
She smiled. "Kermie, I promise you'll like it. And... I really liked our date. The second part, anyway."
"Yeah. I did too. Piggy... I wish it could be like that more often," he said softly.
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"At the show, and at the ice cream place afterwards, you weren't posing for the cameras, you weren't acting like a star for your fans... you were just you. I wish I could see that side of you more often."
She paused, gazing into his eyes, then held out a hand to him and said quietly, "I'll try."
Kermit took it. The satin was warm against his cool fingers. "That's all I can ask," he said.
Miss Piggy didn't say anything. She didn't want to speak. She just wanted to look in Kermit's eyes and hold his hand.
There was something that Kermit wanted to ask Miss Piggy, but he wasn't sure how she would react. He didn't want to risk upsetting her right before a show. He would find a time, he told himself. Just not now.
The spell was broken by a rapid pattering at the door. "Hey, is Kermit in there?" Rizzo the Rat called through the door.
"Get lost, cat bait," Miss Piggy snarled.
"We got a problem out here!"
Annoyed, Kermit said, "I'd better deal with this."
"Of course, Kermie."
He squeezed her hand, then let go and opened the door. "What is it?"
Rizzo, at the front of a cluster of rats, said, "We can't do the Judgment of Solomon act tonight!"
"Why? What's the problem?"
"We're missing a prop."
"Which prop?" Kermit asked, although he already knew the answer.
"The cheese."
"Uh-huh."
"C'mon, we got hungry!"
And Scooter had more than enough to do without having to go-fer a wedge of cheddar, Kermit thought. Behind him, Miss Piggy sang out, "Oh, dear, it looks like we'll need a replacement for that act, won't we?"
"And it just so happens we have one," Kermit said. "How convenient."
*
After Kermit had conferred with Scooter, and they had both conferred with Weird Al, they had decided to insert One More Minute at the end of the first act. They could see that Al and Piggy had indeed planned their act out, which set Kermit's mind at ease.
Once again, Bubba did not show up at the theater, so Janken had to take his place in the jug band act. He did so without complaint, and when it was done he sank back in his console chair, weak with relief because he would not have to face the stage again.
Before the final number of the first act, Miss Piggy, once again dressed as a Greek muse, waited backstage, talking with Weird Al. Their heads were together, as if sharing secrets. Kermit left them to it; clearly they were enjoying themselves.
One More Minute began with the same tableau as before: Weird Al upstage center with a microphone, Miss Piggy posing on a column, and Rowlf, Clifford, and Pepe downstage as the doo-wop singers. After the short musical intro, Weird Al sang longingly to Piggy,
"Well, I heard that you're leaving,
Gonna leave far behind.
'Cause you found a brand new lover,
You decided that I'm not your type."
Miss Piggy glanced at him briefly, then turned away haughtily. Al continued,
"So I pulled your name out of my Rolodex,
And I tore all your pictures in two,
And I burned down the malt shop where we used to go
Just because it reminds me of you."
The stage lighting turned yellow and flickery for a moment before returning to normal.
"That's right, you ain't gonna see me crying,
I'm glad that you found somebody new."
Piggy countered,
"Well, I'd rather spend eternity eating shards of broken glass
Than spend one more minute with you."
Al looked startled. Then he continued,
"I know I may seem kinda bitter,
You got me feeling down in the dumps
'Cause I'm stranded all alone in the gas station of love
And I have to use the self-service pumps!"
Miss Piggy belted out,
"Well, then, honey,
Let me help you with that suitcase.
You're not gonna break my heart in two.
'Cause I'd rather have a hundred thousand paper cuts on my face
Than spend one more minute with vous!"
*
Backstage left, Janken was staring at the monitors in surprise. He said to Scooter, who was watching over his shoulder, "Did you know she was gonna jump in like that?"
Scooter, not even trying to stifle his laughter, said "Nope."
*
Onstage, Weird Al upped the ante.
"I'd rather rip out my intestines with a fork
Than watch you going out with other men.
I'd rather slam my fingers in a door
Again and again and again and again and again."
Piggy faced him and, poking him in the chest with one finger, said,
"Well, lemme tell you something, darlin'!
I'd rather have my blood sucked out by leeches,
Or shove an icepick under a toenail or two.
I'd rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue
Than spend one more minute with vous!"
He leaned close and said,
"I'd rather jump naked on huge pile of thumbtacks
Or stick my nostrils together with Krazy Glue!"
She touched her snout to his nose and replied point-blank,
"I'd rather dive in a swimming pool filled with double-edged razor blades
Than spend one more minute with you!"
He drew in a breath and emoted,
"I'd rather rip my heart right out of my rib cage with my bare hands
And throw it on the floor and stomp on it till I die!"
Miss Piggy paused, then said, "All right, all right, you win. Sheesh."
They leaned close again and gazed into each other's eyes, then sang the last line together:
"Than spend one more minute with you."
Over the last notes Al stage whispered, "Are you as turned on as I am?"
Piggy answered, "More!"
As the curtains closed she leapt into his arms, knocking him over backwards.
*
Backstage, the Muppets who had been watching applauded appreciatively. Both Miss Piggy and Weird Al bowed theatrically, grinning. Kermit said, "That was great! Great number!"
"Thank you, Kermie," Miss Piggy said. Now moi must change into my Pigs in Space uniform. Ta ta!" She sailed up the stairs.
*
The second act went off more or less as expected. There was some extra comedy during Dare to be Stupid, as the Muppets had had more time to think of gags. It was a challenge to get everything on camera. A gag was no use if it was on the side of the frame. Because of this, Janken did not notice the unexpected addition to the cast.
After the curtain closed for the last time and they had taken their bows, Al said, "Whew. Thanks, everybody. This has been great. I can't wait to see in on TV."
"We can't either. You've been one of our favorite guests," Kermit replied.
"I'll bet you say that to all your guests," Al replied with exaggerated modesty.
"On camera, sure," Scooter remarked. "We're off camera now, so he's probably telling the truth."
Gonzo, still wearing a hazmat suit, walked by on the way to his dressing room. Billie, in his arms, was excitedly chanting "Da ta ba ba ba!" She couldn't remember the words from the song, but that didn't keep her from enjoying herself immensely.
Kermit said, "Gonzo, did you carry her onstage?"
"Yep," Gonzo replied. Camilla nodded and clucked emphatically.
"I...didn't expect that."
Gonzo said, "I know. I've been keeping her secret... but, I got to thinking, does it matter anymore? All that noise about me and Camilla happened two years ago. We're as safe as we're ever gonna be by now. Besides," he said, looking at his chick, "I wanna take her on a picnic."
"Well, go for it," Kermit said, patting Gonzo on the back.
*
Janken was about to close down the console. He asked Scooter, "Need to see anything?"
"Nah. Since finals are early tomorrow, I won't be here to pick out the best acts of the set. You all can choose without me."
"Suits me. I'm ready to go home."
"Yeah," Scooter said. He had his backpack, which contained his book and notes. He had spent much of the afternoon at Janken's home, and most of that time had been spent studying. He had come here after that, so he still had his books with him. He had another evening of studying to look forward to. One more evening. By this time tomorrow it'd finally be over.
Janken said, "Scooter, it'll be crazy around the house tonight. Always is on Sundays after the last show. And you're already tense enough. Why don't you come home with me tonight? It's quiet there."
Scooter paused, surprised. Janken continued, "And I have something for you that'll make it worth your while."
"Oh, what?" Scooter asked, intrigued.
Janken leaned close and whispered in his ear. Scooter's eyes widened. "You mean it?"
Janken nodded emphatically. "As long as you like, whenever you like," he promised with a sultry smile.
"Okay, I'm sold! Let's get our bikes."
They both grinned. Scooter had lived for years in a crowded boarding house. The unrestricted use of a full bath without having to compete with dozens of others was a rare luxury.
*
Scooter and Janken rode to Janken's home, which was only a few miles away. They brought their bikes inside and leaned them against the wall by the door. Janken said, "I'm hungry. How about you?"
"I could do with something."
"Okay." Janken and Scooter's tastes were very different. Scooter liked typical Silly Creature food. Janken was an herbivore who preferred raw fruits and vegetables. Since Scooter had been coming over more often he had been finding things they could both enjoy. He start cutting up some fruits and vegetables and arranging them on a plate. As he did he said, "Um—when I invited you over, I didn't mean there were any strings attached. I just want you to have some peace and quiet tonight, that's all."
"Thanks," Scooter said, hiding a frown.
Janken assumed that talking about that made Scooter uncomfortable. But if he said nothing, it'd likely be worse. He looked at the plate. He had carrots, celery, and mushrooms. No peppers, he decided with a twinge of regret. He loved them, but Scooter said they gave him dragon breath. He cut up an apple and added some strawberries—an expensive vice, but sometimes you just have to treat yourself—and grapes. He set a shallow cup of dip in the center, then cut up some cheese chunks and scattered them about the plate. That ought to do them, he thought, and if it didn't there was more. He put it on the kitchen table. "Want something to drink?"
"Water'd be good," Scooter said. He was nose-down in a spiral-bound notebook.
Janken dropped some ice cubes into a glass, filled it the rest of the way with water, and put it on the table. "Here."
"Thanks."
Janken sat on the couch beside Scooter and opened a book he had borrowed from the library a few days earlier. Since Scooter had been preparing for finals, Janken had been getting a lot of reading done too. They both sat, and read, and munched fruit and vegetables.
*
Eventually Scooter realized he was paying no attention to what he was reading. He knew what was on the page, not because he remembered reading it, but because he had practically worn the words off the page. He wasn't preparing himself any longer, he decided, he was just tiring himself out. He closed the notebook and said, "Oh, forget it. I've had enough of this."
"Done studying for the night?" Janken asked.
"Yeah. I know this stuff as well as I'll ever know it."
"Want to turn in, then?" Janken asked. It was late, and Scooter's finals were in the morning.
"Yeah." Scooter got off the couch and put his books and things in his backpack.
Janken started converting the couch into a bed, an operation accomplished by covering the side and back with a sheet, throwing another sheet over that, and topping it off with a blanket. He put a pillow at either end and told Scooter, "I'll sleep on one side of the couch and you can sleep on the other. No funny business."
Scooter said, "Jan, please, enough with the ten-foot-pole treatment!"
Surprised, Janken said, "I didn't mean it that way."
Scooter immediately regretted snapping at Janken. "Sorry, but—look, I'm not made of glass. Please stop telling me that you're not going to touch me, okay?"
Softly Janken said, "I just want you to be comfortable with me, that's all."
Scooter replied, "I am. Why do you think I'm not?"
"Scooter, I just want you to get a good night's sleep. I don't want to open up a can of worms."
"Too late. It's open." In a softer voice Scooter said, "I don't mean to sound harsh. I'm not mad at you. But it's gonna be on my mind if we drop it now. Come on, Jan."
Reluctantly Janken said, "All right." He sat down on the couch. Janken sat beside him and put an arm around the Fraggle. Janken leaned against Scooter and clasped his hand. "This is hard to talk about, so just let me try to get through it, okay?"
"Okay."
"It's hard to explain, not because it's complicated, but because it's so simple. To a Fraggle, at least. Scooter, you know that the culture I grew up with is very different from the culture up here. I can get along fine up here, but in my heart I'm a Fraggle."
"Yeah."
"We live in small tribes. Or colonies, or whatever you want to call them. You know everyone in the colony because you grew up with them. We don't go looking for someone to love. That just happens. You like someone as a good friend, and you get closer, and you do things together, and you have fun, and you squabble, and you just live life together, and if you really fit each other you grow together and come to love each other. That's how I feel about you, Scooter. You were a friend first, and you're still my friend, because how can you love someone otherwise?"
Scooter said, "'Just friends'?"
Janken shook his head emphatically. "No! Fraggles don't think that way. Um...." He thought, searching for a way to explain. To illustrate his point he released Scooter's hand and held his up, palm out, as a barrier and said, "Not just friends-" then clasped Scooter's hand again and drew it close to himself, "but my friend, someone I love and want in my life."
Softly Scooter said, "I feel the same way. So why the ten-foot-pole treatment?"
Janken sighed. "Because I don't understand some things about Silly Creatures. There are things Fraggles consider normal, but for Silly Creatures they're taboo, and things that no Fraggle would do but a Silly Creature wouldn't hesitate to do. And nobody agrees on what the taboos are! Scooter, I don't know what I can do and what I can't!"
Scooter squeezed Janken's hand, but said nothing; the dam had broken. Janken said a little sheepishly, "I told you the other day that I'm a follower, not a leader. I want you to lead. I flirted with you a long time before you took my hand. If you never had and we'd just stayed good friends, that would have been okay. I wouldn't have gotten tired of you just because you weren't attracted to me that way. As it is, I've been learning what's okay by letting you show me."
Scooter said, "But, Jan, this is new to me. I don't know what to do. You do."
Wryly Janken said, "I'm not all that experienced either. I tried pairing with a girl, and that went nowhere fast. I had a silly adolescent crush on someone I knew I had no chance with. Two complete flops, with nothing that mattered in between. Then I found you. I've been careful, letting you lead, because I couldn't bear the thought of going too far, breaking some rule I didn't know about, and driving you off."
Scooter shook his head. "I wish we'd talked about this a long time ago. We've been wasting a lot of time."
Janken chuckled, mostly from relief. "I guess so."
"Remember what you told me in the theater that first time, after we watched The Wizard of Oz? I asked, 'What do we do now?'"
"I said that it's up to us, didn't I?"
"Yeah. So...let's just figure it out between the two of us, okay? Whatever we do next, let's just talk about it, not play waiting games."
"Yeah. But...can we put that aside for now? I mean, we've said enough for tonight, and I did invite you over so you could sleep in peace."
"All right."
Janken said, "I'm going to make some tea. I have some that's really good for relaxing, and I need that right now."
"I'd like some too," Scooter said. He wasn't really a tea person, but he wanted to share that with Janken.
"Sure. Oh, I have a spare pair of pajamas you can use. We're pretty much the same size, so they ought to fit."
"Thanks." Janken looked in the box that served as Janken's wardrobe and found a neatly folded, pale green set. He went into the bathroom and closed the door to change. Janken smiled to himself, and heated the water. While that was going he put on his other pajamas.
A few minutes later Scooter came back out, carrying his clothes in his hands. He said, "They fit fine. I had a 'what the heck' moment before I realized that was a tail hole, though."
"I hadn't thought about that. I can sew it closed. It won't take a minute."
"Nah, it's high up enough that it doesn't bug me. It was just a surprise, that's all."
"Ah." Janken poured the tea and gave Scooter a cup. It tasted of something Scooter couldn't identify. 'Herbal' was the only word he could think of to describe it. It was good, though, and as he drank it he could feel his tension fading.
Janken said, "Um... in the interest of full disclosure, Scooter... if you were a Fraggle I wouldn't have suggested you sleep on the other side of the couch."
"Oh? What would you have suggested, then?" Scooter asked.
"Well, see, when Fraggles go to bed, it's to sleep. It doesn't have the same, um, physical connotation among us as it does up here. It's warm and cozy and, well, friendly to be asleep with someone else. Making a 'guest bed' for someone you liked enough to ask them to sleep over would be like turning around and saying 'yuck, stay away from me'."
Scooter could see the pattern, now that Janken had explained it: he let Scooter know what he wanted, and waited for Scooter to accept or ignore the offer. Scooter said, "You don't want me to sleep on the other side of the couch, do you?"
"I want you to sleep well. But...if you could sleep well with me, that'd be really nice," Janken said wistfully.
"Let's try it, then. If I can't sleep that way, I'll go over to the other side, no big deal. Okay?"
"Okay," Janken said with a wide smile.
They finished their tea and got ready for bed. While Janken put on his pajamas Scooter set the alarm on his cell phone. As they got under the covers Scooter joked, "You wear more clothes in bed then you do during the day."
Janken shrugged. "I get cold when I sleep if I'm not wearing pajamas."
"Oh, okay."
They lay down together. Before turning off the light Janken said, "One more thing I wanted to tell you, Scooter. I really mean what I said about how I love you. Nobody can tell what's gonna happen in the future. I hope I'm your Mister Right, but if I'm not, I still always want to share my life with you. It would break my heart to lose your friendship." He clasped Scooter's hand between his own.
"I won't break your heart, Jan," Scooter promised.
Janken smiled, then flicked out the light. They kissed goodnight for several minutes, then settled in to go to sleep.
*
Scooter looked up blearily when he heard a familiar chime coming from a strange direction. It took a moment to remember that he wasn't in his bed at home. For one thing, there was a warm Fraggle cozied up to his side, his arm across Scooter's back. Janken looked up, confused by the strange alarm sound, and mumbled, "Mah?"
"Morning," Scooter told him.
"Oh. Yeah," Janken murmured with a bleary smile. His hair was flat on one side.
"Need to get in before I take a shower?"
"Nah, go on."
Scooter got out of 'bed'. Surprisingly, he hadn't had any trouble sleeping, even though he wasn't used to being accompanied while he did. He picked up his clothes and went to the small bathroom. Janken heard the water start after a few minutes. He sat up and yawned and stretched.
He felt happy and a little goofy. Sleeping all alone and waking up by himself was one of the dreariest things about Outer Space. He was used to it, but he didn't like it. Just waking up to see another's face gave him a lift. That it was Scooter's face made him feel almost giddy.
*
A little while later Scooter, once again in his jeans and jacket, came out of the bathroom. Janken smiled at him, then nodded toward the hot plate and said, "Watch that for a minute, would you?"
"Sure."
Janken went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth and his hair. Then he came back out. "Thanks. How about an omelet?"
"Sounds good."
Janken busied himself with eggs, mushrooms, cheese, and thinly-sliced vegetables. As he did he hummed softly, a tune that he had been hearing in his mind since he awakened. After a minute or so he began to sing softly.
"There's a perfect time when reality seems a dream,
And that perfect time can pass unnoticed and unseen.
And you never know it's coming; there may seem no sense or rhyme
To the timing of that perfect time."
Janken looked up from the hot plate, and his eyes met Scooter's. He continued,
"There's a perfect time and it comes to one and all
Just as bright sunrise follows the sunfall.
And you get what you give and you give what you get, and this much is true,
Now's that perfect time because I'm looking at you."
"Did you write that?" Scooter asked quietly.
Janken shook his head, smiling. "No. I made it up just now."
"You told me you couldn't 'sing from the heart' like other Fraggles could..."
"I guess I got inspired." Janken was pleased with himself. It wasn't that great a song, he knew; the rhythm was irregular and some of the wording was clumsy. But it got the point across, and that's what mattered.
He cut the omelet in half in the pan and slid it onto two plates, then added some strawberries. He handed one plate to Scooter along with a fork and said, "Apple juice okay?"
As Scooter accepted the plate he said, "Sure."
Janken poured two glasses of apple juice, and they began eating. As they did their eyes kept meeting, causing them to grin goofily but not self-consciously. Janken said, "Not going to cram?"
"Nah. I'm not going to learn anything in the next few minutes that didn't stick before."
"'Kay."
When they finished Janken washed the dishes and Scooter dried them. Then Scooter said, "I'd better get going."
"Go on. You'll do great."
"I bet you're right," Scooter said with a grin. He really did feel ready for it. He'd certainly spent enough time preparing. He started to hoist his already-packed backpack onto his shoulder, then put it down again. "Jan...I don't say it a lot, but I love you."
Janken smiled widely. "You don't say it a lot, but you show it to me all the time."
There was only one way to answer that. The two kissed. When Scooter reluctantly pulled away he lifted his backpack and said, "See you at the theater."
"Good luck."
The door closed behind Scooter. Janken puttered around for a few minutes, humming dreamily to himself. Then he picked up the pajamas that Scooter had worn, rolled them into a ball, and slipped back into bed in the place where Scooter had slept. His scent was still on the pillow. Janken closed his eyes, holding the pajamas like a teddy bear.
*****
All characters except Janken, Billie, and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. One More Minute is copyright © Weird Al Yankovic. and Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken and Billie are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.
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