"Who said that every wish..." - MFC short stories

[TogetherAgain]

Alright, but you better hurry up. At the rate of new threads these days, I had to chase this down just to nag you.

 

[Beauregard]

New story! Grab your tissues!

This story is told as a sort of...continuous thought thingy of Gonzo's.

__

Story 3: Wishbones, and telephones...

Bunsen slipped. Beaker slipped. Floyd slipped. Janice slipped. Gonzo skidded across the ice, and laughed. It was going to be a good holiday.

There was crazy old Fozzie there, with his Ma. And a man and his dog at the head of the stairs. Yolanda and Rizzo hung out in the entrance, and spoke excitedly over Emily Bear and Kermit. The telephone rang out clear. Miss Piggy, happy, laughing.

Ding-dong. What the…Tail feathers? “I’ll get it!” Gonzo headed outside with the Turkey. Oh boy…who invited that guy?

“Guy in a chef’s hat, sounds like a nice vacation,” the Turkey explained.

“That guy IS a chef!”

Gonzo followed the turkey back inside, and heard Robin and his uncle chatting in the kitchen. They sang together, their voices a harmony. Whoah! Mayhem Band on the loose!

Gonzo headed in, where the band were jamming, their strobing tones Jingle-Rocking around the block.

So many happy families. Still, he had Camilla. Right?

Gonzo started out, but Scooter called them back together for. “Home movies!”

Baby Piggy with her Baby Kermie. Floyd was teasing. Little Fozzie, and his Ma. “You were just in dipers in those days.”

“Oh Ma.”

And Bunsen dogging Rowlf.

Gonzo’s image grinned from the screen. Gonzo waited for someone to comment, then, “What a handsome devil I was.” And then Animal stole the screen, literally!

Still, he had Camilla. Speaking of which…

Why that little turkey! Gonzo stomach flopped. How dare…

“Get your own chicken! Camilla is my girlfriend!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She was…she had been forever. But why…didn’t she say something?

“I’ll rip off your wattle. I’ll, I’ll pull out your wishbone.” He was saying things, but not really thinking further than the last comment.

And suddenly Kermit was here, as he always was, bringing things off the boil, calling attention away, distracting.

“Merry Christmas from Sesame Street!”

Gonzo stood in the doorway, and watched them. Bert and Ernie. Biff and Sully.

Gonzo shrugged. They had nothing he didn’t have. He had friends. Family. Friends…

Miss Piggy wasn’t here. The storm was getting worse. Kermit stood staring out the net curtains. Would anyone have looked out for him that way? “That’s von! Von vorried frog,” chimed the Count.

Wow. Even Statler and Waldorf were here! They’d sure been friends for a long time those two curmudgeons. What a clown that Fozzie was. A snowman for a sidekick? Holy Smoke!

Gonzo stood at the top of the stairs, and watched that Doc fellow offering to go out hunting for Miss Piggy. People cared for each other.

“Oh, there’s no place like Home for the Holidays…” Miss Piggy was here at last. Everyone crowded out to greet her. “Watch out for the Icy Patch!” And then it was time for the annual carol sing.

Gonzo sat near the front with Camilla, and the turkey. She wasn’t watching him, but the turkey. He frowned. “Happy holidays, happy holidays…”

“Good King Wincless last looked out, on the Feast of Stevens…” Gonzo looked out. Robin with Kermit, Kermit with Piggy. Ernie with Bert. Oscar even, was with Rizzo.

Later he slinked away. He walked to the kitchen, his hands hanging by his side. He stopped, and lifted the receiver of the telephone. Who would he call? There was no one. Still…

He put the phone to his ear. Licked his lips. “Mum,” he said. “It’s…it’s Gonzo here. I just wanted to give you a call…um…Merry Christmas, Mum. Dad. Happy New Year.”

He placed the phone back. And turned away. “Camilla?” She stood in front of him, her head cocked to one side, her version of a smile.

The singing had finished. He heard Miss Piggy squeal about presents.

Camilla stepped to him, and rubbed her head against his side. “Burg…”

Gonzo rested his hand on her.

“Burg, buck…”

“Yeah, I love you too. Merry Christmas Camilla.”

 

[TogetherAgain]

Aw.....

<realize I'm hugging the computer monitor, not Gonzo> Oh shoot- um- eh he he he he he... great story, Beau! Poor Gonzo's been wondering about his family for longer than we thought, I guess... poor thing making an imaginary phone call... and Camilla! Oy... <hugs computer monitor again>

 

[redBoobergurl]

It was so cute! I like seeing the more sensitive side of Gonzo. I'm glad that in the end, he did still have Camilla. Bring on more, I love this Christmas in July!!!!

 

[TogetherAgain]

...is that all?... please tell me there's more...

 

[Beauregard]

...is that all?... please tell me there's more...

More nearer Christmas...I still have Newsie's story, and Sweetums story...

 

[Effralyo]

*stands secretly behind Beau and unexpectedly gives him a special Sclurgling-Slarping-Both-Sided Squeeze*
Our Gardeolo writes, as though opens a spring of the water o`life! Uuuuum!!!!!!!!!

 

[minor muppetz]

And Bunsen dogging Rowlf.

I thought the line about Baby Rowlf was spoken from Janice.

 

[Beauregard]

I'm sorry it's not up-to-par with the rest, but, here's a new Newsman story. I'll leave you to imagine the very end yourselves

Story 4: Wishfull thinking.

The Newsman gathered up his papers and walked towards the exit. "I'll see you all in the New Year," he yelled to the crew. "Don't forget to drop me some Christmas Cards!"

Everyone grabbed at their pockets. "Oh, here's one!" "I did get one!" "Here." They threw the cards, and Newsie was hit with a barrage of them dropping on his head.

He scrunched up his face, and gathered them together. "Right, I'll see you soon!" He opened the door, and bumped smack straight into his producer. "Sorry...I didn't...see you."

The large monster producer grinned. "No problem, but, we have a little problem. See, the Whether Guy just called in sick. And we wondered if you would stand in for him."

The Newsman spotted Clive Focus pulling a coffee from the drinks machine. "What about Clive, can't he stand in?"

Clive jumped over to them, landing on Newsmans toe. "I could stand on, but I have hot stuff, hot, hot, hot."

"What, what what?"

"Hot, hot, hot."

"What's hot?"

The monster producer slapped Clive on the back, and Clives coffee spilt over Newsmans shirt. "Clive is heading to Holly-and-the-Ivy-wood to get some snaps."

"Yes, snaps," Clive said.

"What snaps?" Newsman asked.

Clive laughed. "Good ones," he said, and turned to leave, his coat snagging a large statue of a crocodile that guarded the exit. The statue toppled forward, as the Newsman leapt out the way.

The Monster Producer caught it lightly. "Look," he said. "It's not much to ask." He pushed the statue back upright, a wreth of holly and ivy was blanced by the door.

"I was going with the Muppets," newsman said. "I really can't hang around."

The Producer tossed the wreath forward and it caught around Newsman's neck. "Sure you can," he said.

Later, the camera whirled as the Newsman ran up to his desk announcing the blizzard. He glanced up at the thermometers and weather equipment that hung above him for easy access. Those threads didn't look that safe. He looked back at his papers. "Barometers are falling sharply." Snap, snap, snap! The threads broke, and the Newsman was knocked under the desk by a sharp barometer.

"Ouch..."

"You did fine!" the Monster Producer said stompingup. "Just fine."

"I'm leaving," Newsman announced. "I have a farmhouse to get to."

"But..."

"You know what," Newsman said. He glanced across the newsroom to where Ivan the protester was being interveiwed on his veiws of christmas. Ivan was complaining that the British had a further holiday named, "Boxing day" after christmas. Ivan insisted that it was a cruel sounding name, and was waving a large pair of boxing gloves.

Newsman turned to the Monster Producer. "I'm leaving," he said. "You stay. I'm sure it will be a...hit." And he ducked. The boxing-gloves slipped out of Ivan's hands and whizzed through the air to where Newsman had been standing.

"But...!" the producer shouted again. The gloves missed the Newsman and punched into the Monster Producer who realed back and fell onto his butt.

"See you later!" Newsman shouted.

He arrived at the farmhouse late...but...still, better late then never. "And who knows," Newsman thought. "Maybe I've slipped up my last." then he stepped through the door.

 

[TogetherAgain]

Hey, look!!!!! HOLY MOSQUITOS! IT'S BACK!! I was wondering when you would get back to this. (I'll nag you about the other one later, hehe.)

Tis GREAT, my friend, tis great, as usual. ....Actually, seems like the usual is that it isn't, as in it doesn't exist at all. But this! Tis great, as the old usual. Never realized Newsie had such pressure at work. But then again, why else would he keep that job... <shrug> Anyway! Very well done.

Now then, you said something about Sweetums' story.... See, you said so right here:

More nearer Christmas...I still have Newsie's story, and Sweetums story...

<waits impatiently>