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Jim Henson Idea Man
Back to the Rock Season 2
Bear arrives on Disney+
Sam and Friends Book
We Got Us
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Hey, heres....MORE! >in Kermit's voice< YYYYAAAYYY!!I hope Figgie likes it (can you find yourself? Hm? Because next chapter you won't be able to miss yourself. I am starting work on operation 'dream-man-for-Figgie' right now. And if anyone else who has been so good as to review Fig's awesome fig...er...fic, would like to take a gander at mine and tell me what you think I would be EXTREMELY appreciative.
P.S. I have absolutely NO idea of how an eviction works and there are probably laws against what the woman does, but I don't know them, so...try and pretend it's realistic and stick to the actual plot.
CHAPTER TWO
The after-Thanksgiving rush of Christmas decorations had never shown up as brightly as it did against that cold morning. Kermit piloted the bus to their various destinations while Scooter and Fozzie haggled over whether a star or an angel looked better on top of the tree and Robin played the one bar of Jingle Bells he knew on his harmonica. Eventually he stopped playing
“Uncle Kermit, are we gonna do a Christmas special this year?”
“You know we do some kind of special on Christmas every year, Robin.”
“Well I think this year we should do a special special.”
“What exactly would you call a special special?”
“We could make it twice as long as usual, and book a whole lot of great guest stars-” Offered Fozzie.
“Sure, and a chorus line of girls...uh, for a big Jingle Bell Rock number!” Put in Scooter.
“We could have everybody pick their favorite Christmas song to sing...” Said Robin.
“Think about Robert Di'nero as Santa Clause!” Added Fozzie. Kermit shook his head, amused at their enthusiasm.
“Don't try and tell me we could squeeze all that into the budget Scooter.”
“Well no, but it might pay for itself if it came off big enough.”
“I actually thought we could do something more—simple?” Asked Robin.
“Isn't something simple what we've done every year? Hey boss, what about Miranda Cosgrove? We haven't had her before?”
“Yeah, yeah, and Steve Carrel too, he's good...” They bantered to and from the tree farm, Kermit listening without showing much interest. He had learned not to show too much excitment the way everyone else did: that way it was easy to get muscled into something he couldn't really handle. Still, he loved to listen to their crazy plans form into something new and more spirited every year. And why shouldn't they do something big? The show had been going well, the rent was payed...or was it? He should really check the account. Either way, it looked like a wonderful Christmas season.
On the way back to the boarding house light flurries began to fall, much to Robin's delight. Neighbors could be seen in their yards putting out lights and decorations. Kermit made a mental note to send a Christmas card to the Sesame Street gang. He pulled into their road expecting to see the Muppets, or at least Gonzo and however was stupid enough to help him, collected on the roof stringing lights. Instead, he saw a white car in the driveway and two unfamiliar people on the porch talking to Rowlf, Sam and Miss Piggy. Several other Muppets were crowded in the doorway, peeping through with concerned expressions.
“Oh no, I hope Animal didn't bite another meter reader.” Groaned Fozzie.
“I don't think the meter reader drives a car like that. Who do you think it is chief?” Kermit didn't answer, he was concentrating on trying to remember where he had seen the middle-aged woman before. Why seeing her here gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He got out of the car and went up the front steps without being noticed.
“I really don't think Kermit would have let this happen.” Rowlf was saying, concern in his voice. “I'm pretty sure there must be a misunderstanding somewhere.”
“Yes,” Added Sam. “The monetary relationship between the land-owner and his or her humble serfs is valuable part of the American institution and we respect it.” He finished nobly. Kermit took a step back. Land-owner. Landlord. Of course—he had only met her once when he had signed the agreement on the house. Imagining what type of people a frog would be living with she had kept well out of their way. With an extra effort to always have the rent on time it had stayed like that. He grabbed Scooter's arm before they went up the steps. “Did we take care of the rent this month?” He whispered urgently.
“It gets deducted automatically. After you pay the cast the check goes into our account, my uncle takes out the theater rent and she takes out...the house rent. I haven't looked in on it recently.” Kermit tapped the woman on the shoulder softly. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“Oh, it's you.” She seemed half relieved, half annoyed, holding out what looked like a bill. “Look frog, you've been a good boarder with me for almost two years now. I've never seen you late on the rent yet—so I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but you can't brush me off anymore. I'm here to turn you loose.”
“What do you mean?!”
“Your checks have been bouncing, that's what I mean. For the last three months. I sent you letter after letter and phone call after phone call, no answer. Well I have a policy, it's never bother your boarders at home unless it's a last resort. This is my last resort frog, either I get the rent now from you or I get it from somebody else next month.”
“I...don't know how that could have happened. The checks I wrote you must be good because there's money in the account. Our—uh, our phone has been disconnected for a month or so...but...” He turned back to the others, asking no one in particular. “How did this happen?” There was no reply. The Muppets sank their eyes to the ground as if they were all guilty, even though he knew they weren't. He turned back to the woman, his throat feeling a little dry. “I...I'm sure we've got the money...how much do we owe?”
“After three months of skipping? 3 grand.” She replied without blinking. He turned to Scooter, who was already shaking his head. “It's gone boss, we stocked up yesterday, remember?”
“What about the money for props?”
“On a good week that's like...300 dollars.” He said quietly. Kermit looked back to her hopefully. “Will you take a...confidence payment?”
“In cash?”
“No...a check?” She shook her head decisively. No checks. And three hundred bucks ain't enough, I'll never get the rest. Sorry, but it's now or never.” Kermit was bereaved. “You can't expect us to have the money now! We had no idea!”
“Look, it's not like I didn't send you eviction notices. I sent five of them. And maybe this is a terrible thing to do before Christmas but I've got a couple of young people and their kid ready to move in before the Holidays, so I figure it about evens out.” She trailed off, realizing the heartlessness of her statement. “I...I'm sorry, but that's where stand. I'm gonna need you out of here by tomorrow morning.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There was nothing in what she said that Kermit could latch on to, after she was gone, and turn into a happy light. The Muppets milled around uselessly, not wanting to sit down and look idle, not able to ignore the situation and go about things as usual. Kermit watched them: watched them eye the things they'd treasured in that house for years. Rowlf's piano in it's cozy place in the corner, Gonzo's cannon shoved halfway into the overflowing closet, the band's instruments in their various cases stacked against the wall, Scooter's skateboard in it's hazardous place by the door: but they were just things, Kermit decided. Things can be moved and replaced, things didn't make a family-- He swallowed hard, knowing he had to break the oppressive silence in the living room.
“Well,” He said first. “I guess you know what's going on—“
“I don't.” Robin said simply, and somehow his small voice cut like a knife.
“Well...we're going to have to leave here for a while—maybe till after the holidays, I don't know yet.” He only let this set in for a minute, saying quickly. “But in the meantime, we are going stay together. We are going to spend this Christmas,” He looked at Miss Piggy meaningfully “Together.” “But...where are we gonna live?” Asked an attractive young Muppet singer named Alice, who was holding Robin on her lap.
“In the theater.” Said Kermit, deciding it at the same time he spoke. “Hey if we can all fit there during the day--why not all the time? And that way we can still work on the show. This year we're going to do something big and earn the money to get out house back.” There was silence in response. The Muppets were nodding, some smiled wanly, trying to give him support at the same time they realized the situation they were in. Besides the forty-odd Muppets that lived in the boarding house, hordes more occupied the theater dressing rooms and basement during the weeks when they were needed on the show. Feeling like a family had kept any of the Muppets from feeling like they needed to have their own houses: and working on the same show to pay the same bills kept any of them from really saving any of their own money.
The Christmas tree they had bought, the biggest, most cheerful one on the lot, was now forgotten in the back of the bus. The Christmas ornaments in the tattered boxes were just another thing to be hauled over to the old theater. The winter day had lost it's spirit—the lingering scent of the peppermint coffee had drifted off. Now it was only cold, outside of the house.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
That evening was even more beautiful than the morning, but colder. Purple and orange painted the streaks of cloud, and stars shown fiery and bright in contrast to the deep blue of the twilight sky. Kermit shivered as he watched the view, taking a minute to be idle, to rest. Listening to the bus door come open and close, and various feet hopping up and down in the snow from foot to foot, trying to keep warm. There were more cheerful murmurs now—things were less tense. Being together helped that. Kermit had come to know that as long as people were together, no fight was too big, no circumstance too shattering, to be healed by time and togetherness with warm people. As if to affirm this Fozzie came up beside him with a coat. “Here, I thought you might need this—since frogs don't have fur...or anything.” He said. There was a whole list of things Fozzie was bad at, and second behind stand-up comedy was subtleness.
“I'm fine Fozzie.” Said Kermit, giving his best friend a warm smile.
“Oh, well—I just thought you might be cold.” He turned as if to go.
“I didn't mean I'm not cold. I'm freezing. I meant I'm fine.” Kermit said to him. Fozzie looked back with a half relieved, half confused face. “Well good, Kermit.” He came closer to him, stuttering out an attempt to relieve his friend. “Because I know you couldn't help what happened—with the house—-and, were still going to have a great Christmas, right?” Kermit nodded.“Of course, just like every year.” Fozzie nodded too, as usual his attempt to support Kermit usually ended up as support for himself. “Well good, I worry about you.” Kermit nodded again, “Not sure what I'd do...” He trailed off. He was done making encouraging speeches for today, and besides something else was speaking for him. The air was cold, and the circumstances were bad, but he...could hear them in the theater. The door was open and light was shining out onto the new snow. He could hear Rowlf banging away at the old piano, Nigel the conductor about to have a fit desperately trying to keep them in tune. Now Alice, their young singer was taking the solo—her strong, sweet, soaring voice carried well through the night air:
Oh little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie.
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars, go by.
But in thy dark streets shineth, the ever-lasting light.
The hope and fears of all the years,
Are met in thee, tonight...
As the last notes trailed off the rest of the Muppets picked up the next verse, tuneless voices humming happily. A warm thought struck Kermit. “It's the same. Here, at the house, on the streets of New York, in a hotel on the backside of London—we're always alright together.
P.S. I have absolutely NO idea of how an eviction works and there are probably laws against what the woman does, but I don't know them, so...try and pretend it's realistic and stick to the actual plot.
CHAPTER TWO
The after-Thanksgiving rush of Christmas decorations had never shown up as brightly as it did against that cold morning. Kermit piloted the bus to their various destinations while Scooter and Fozzie haggled over whether a star or an angel looked better on top of the tree and Robin played the one bar of Jingle Bells he knew on his harmonica. Eventually he stopped playing
“Uncle Kermit, are we gonna do a Christmas special this year?”
“You know we do some kind of special on Christmas every year, Robin.”
“Well I think this year we should do a special special.”
“What exactly would you call a special special?”
“We could make it twice as long as usual, and book a whole lot of great guest stars-” Offered Fozzie.
“Sure, and a chorus line of girls...uh, for a big Jingle Bell Rock number!” Put in Scooter.
“We could have everybody pick their favorite Christmas song to sing...” Said Robin.
“Think about Robert Di'nero as Santa Clause!” Added Fozzie. Kermit shook his head, amused at their enthusiasm.
“Don't try and tell me we could squeeze all that into the budget Scooter.”
“Well no, but it might pay for itself if it came off big enough.”
“I actually thought we could do something more—simple?” Asked Robin.
“Isn't something simple what we've done every year? Hey boss, what about Miranda Cosgrove? We haven't had her before?”
“Yeah, yeah, and Steve Carrel too, he's good...” They bantered to and from the tree farm, Kermit listening without showing much interest. He had learned not to show too much excitment the way everyone else did: that way it was easy to get muscled into something he couldn't really handle. Still, he loved to listen to their crazy plans form into something new and more spirited every year. And why shouldn't they do something big? The show had been going well, the rent was payed...or was it? He should really check the account. Either way, it looked like a wonderful Christmas season.
On the way back to the boarding house light flurries began to fall, much to Robin's delight. Neighbors could be seen in their yards putting out lights and decorations. Kermit made a mental note to send a Christmas card to the Sesame Street gang. He pulled into their road expecting to see the Muppets, or at least Gonzo and however was stupid enough to help him, collected on the roof stringing lights. Instead, he saw a white car in the driveway and two unfamiliar people on the porch talking to Rowlf, Sam and Miss Piggy. Several other Muppets were crowded in the doorway, peeping through with concerned expressions.
“Oh no, I hope Animal didn't bite another meter reader.” Groaned Fozzie.
“I don't think the meter reader drives a car like that. Who do you think it is chief?” Kermit didn't answer, he was concentrating on trying to remember where he had seen the middle-aged woman before. Why seeing her here gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He got out of the car and went up the front steps without being noticed.
“I really don't think Kermit would have let this happen.” Rowlf was saying, concern in his voice. “I'm pretty sure there must be a misunderstanding somewhere.”
“Yes,” Added Sam. “The monetary relationship between the land-owner and his or her humble serfs is valuable part of the American institution and we respect it.” He finished nobly. Kermit took a step back. Land-owner. Landlord. Of course—he had only met her once when he had signed the agreement on the house. Imagining what type of people a frog would be living with she had kept well out of their way. With an extra effort to always have the rent on time it had stayed like that. He grabbed Scooter's arm before they went up the steps. “Did we take care of the rent this month?” He whispered urgently.
“It gets deducted automatically. After you pay the cast the check goes into our account, my uncle takes out the theater rent and she takes out...the house rent. I haven't looked in on it recently.” Kermit tapped the woman on the shoulder softly. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“Oh, it's you.” She seemed half relieved, half annoyed, holding out what looked like a bill. “Look frog, you've been a good boarder with me for almost two years now. I've never seen you late on the rent yet—so I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but you can't brush me off anymore. I'm here to turn you loose.”
“What do you mean?!”
“Your checks have been bouncing, that's what I mean. For the last three months. I sent you letter after letter and phone call after phone call, no answer. Well I have a policy, it's never bother your boarders at home unless it's a last resort. This is my last resort frog, either I get the rent now from you or I get it from somebody else next month.”
“I...don't know how that could have happened. The checks I wrote you must be good because there's money in the account. Our—uh, our phone has been disconnected for a month or so...but...” He turned back to the others, asking no one in particular. “How did this happen?” There was no reply. The Muppets sank their eyes to the ground as if they were all guilty, even though he knew they weren't. He turned back to the woman, his throat feeling a little dry. “I...I'm sure we've got the money...how much do we owe?”
“After three months of skipping? 3 grand.” She replied without blinking. He turned to Scooter, who was already shaking his head. “It's gone boss, we stocked up yesterday, remember?”
“What about the money for props?”
“On a good week that's like...300 dollars.” He said quietly. Kermit looked back to her hopefully. “Will you take a...confidence payment?”
“In cash?”
“No...a check?” She shook her head decisively. No checks. And three hundred bucks ain't enough, I'll never get the rest. Sorry, but it's now or never.” Kermit was bereaved. “You can't expect us to have the money now! We had no idea!”
“Look, it's not like I didn't send you eviction notices. I sent five of them. And maybe this is a terrible thing to do before Christmas but I've got a couple of young people and their kid ready to move in before the Holidays, so I figure it about evens out.” She trailed off, realizing the heartlessness of her statement. “I...I'm sorry, but that's where stand. I'm gonna need you out of here by tomorrow morning.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There was nothing in what she said that Kermit could latch on to, after she was gone, and turn into a happy light. The Muppets milled around uselessly, not wanting to sit down and look idle, not able to ignore the situation and go about things as usual. Kermit watched them: watched them eye the things they'd treasured in that house for years. Rowlf's piano in it's cozy place in the corner, Gonzo's cannon shoved halfway into the overflowing closet, the band's instruments in their various cases stacked against the wall, Scooter's skateboard in it's hazardous place by the door: but they were just things, Kermit decided. Things can be moved and replaced, things didn't make a family-- He swallowed hard, knowing he had to break the oppressive silence in the living room.
“Well,” He said first. “I guess you know what's going on—“
“I don't.” Robin said simply, and somehow his small voice cut like a knife.
“Well...we're going to have to leave here for a while—maybe till after the holidays, I don't know yet.” He only let this set in for a minute, saying quickly. “But in the meantime, we are going stay together. We are going to spend this Christmas,” He looked at Miss Piggy meaningfully “Together.” “But...where are we gonna live?” Asked an attractive young Muppet singer named Alice, who was holding Robin on her lap.
“In the theater.” Said Kermit, deciding it at the same time he spoke. “Hey if we can all fit there during the day--why not all the time? And that way we can still work on the show. This year we're going to do something big and earn the money to get out house back.” There was silence in response. The Muppets were nodding, some smiled wanly, trying to give him support at the same time they realized the situation they were in. Besides the forty-odd Muppets that lived in the boarding house, hordes more occupied the theater dressing rooms and basement during the weeks when they were needed on the show. Feeling like a family had kept any of the Muppets from feeling like they needed to have their own houses: and working on the same show to pay the same bills kept any of them from really saving any of their own money.
The Christmas tree they had bought, the biggest, most cheerful one on the lot, was now forgotten in the back of the bus. The Christmas ornaments in the tattered boxes were just another thing to be hauled over to the old theater. The winter day had lost it's spirit—the lingering scent of the peppermint coffee had drifted off. Now it was only cold, outside of the house.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
That evening was even more beautiful than the morning, but colder. Purple and orange painted the streaks of cloud, and stars shown fiery and bright in contrast to the deep blue of the twilight sky. Kermit shivered as he watched the view, taking a minute to be idle, to rest. Listening to the bus door come open and close, and various feet hopping up and down in the snow from foot to foot, trying to keep warm. There were more cheerful murmurs now—things were less tense. Being together helped that. Kermit had come to know that as long as people were together, no fight was too big, no circumstance too shattering, to be healed by time and togetherness with warm people. As if to affirm this Fozzie came up beside him with a coat. “Here, I thought you might need this—since frogs don't have fur...or anything.” He said. There was a whole list of things Fozzie was bad at, and second behind stand-up comedy was subtleness.
“I'm fine Fozzie.” Said Kermit, giving his best friend a warm smile.
“Oh, well—I just thought you might be cold.” He turned as if to go.
“I didn't mean I'm not cold. I'm freezing. I meant I'm fine.” Kermit said to him. Fozzie looked back with a half relieved, half confused face. “Well good, Kermit.” He came closer to him, stuttering out an attempt to relieve his friend. “Because I know you couldn't help what happened—with the house—-and, were still going to have a great Christmas, right?” Kermit nodded.“Of course, just like every year.” Fozzie nodded too, as usual his attempt to support Kermit usually ended up as support for himself. “Well good, I worry about you.” Kermit nodded again, “Not sure what I'd do...” He trailed off. He was done making encouraging speeches for today, and besides something else was speaking for him. The air was cold, and the circumstances were bad, but he...could hear them in the theater. The door was open and light was shining out onto the new snow. He could hear Rowlf banging away at the old piano, Nigel the conductor about to have a fit desperately trying to keep them in tune. Now Alice, their young singer was taking the solo—her strong, sweet, soaring voice carried well through the night air:
Oh little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie.
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars, go by.
But in thy dark streets shineth, the ever-lasting light.
The hope and fears of all the years,
Are met in thee, tonight...
As the last notes trailed off the rest of the Muppets picked up the next verse, tuneless voices humming happily. A warm thought struck Kermit. “It's the same. Here, at the house, on the streets of New York, in a hotel on the backside of London—we're always alright together.
Like? Dislike?
*Gives a huge hug!* You did very well on the new chapter! More?
??) So glad you liked. That took FOREVER to write. So, expect the next chappie to be shorter (but yummy. Especially for you.Hopefully 
Seriously though! Loved it! Am I a girl?! Or am I a muppet?!! Definitley a muppet! yeah I'm a fig. or a prog.?