Muppet Show Fanfiction: The Muppets' Unwanted - 4. Chapter 4
A/N: I do not own the Muppets.
Kermit was relieved not to be responsible for Walter’s eulogy. Gary did the honors. All of the previous Muppet deaths put together couldn’t equal the tragedy of losing Walter, who had been so young and full of life. Who’d just accomplished his dream to join the Muppets. Who’d climbed so quickly through their ranks to the main cast, and at the detriment of other more beloved Muppets like Rizzo and Robin. And the brutality of this murder rivaled all the others. Walter had been strangled, stabbed and squashed. Kermit’s rage at the killer had reached a boil. Who could do this? And why?
Robin leaned against the back wall of the funeral home, in his little black tux, with a blank expression. The young frog hadn’t said a word to his uncle since the day before. Kermit assumed it was the shock of the killing that had caused Robin to clam up. But Kermit found it odd that Robin wasn’t seeking solace in his uncle. It almost seemed like Robin was afraid to approach him, or maybe angry with him. Kermit wondered if it had something to do with their conversation the previous day…
Kermit slowly approached Walter’s casket. He gave an acknowledging nod to Gary and Mary, who stood by the coffin, both clad in black.
“I don’t understand it,” Kermit shook his head. “Walter…why Walter?”
Mary sniffled into her handkerchief.
Gary grimaced solemnly. “Walter’s in Heaven now, singing a happy song.” He turned to where his fabric twin lay in the opened casket. “He looks so peaceful.”
Kermit hesitantly followed Gary’s gaze to the coffin, and jumped back with a whimper. The morticians had probably done their best to stich the body up and re-attach all limbs, but even the most talented undertakers apparently hadn’t been able to undo Walter’s classic expression of horror. The young Muppet stared ahead with wide, askew eyes, his mouth still twisted in his final scream.
Kermit gulped and nodded at Gary nervously. “Urm, yeah…peaceful…”
A low voice made Kermit’s head turn. Sam Eagle stood against the wall, in a black suit like everyone else, talking on an outdated flip-phone. Sam seemed to be talking business. Not Gonzo’s plunger factor business, but undercover protection of mankind business. Kermit wondered who was on the other line. Sam bid whoever it was goodbye, and then approached the coffin to pay his respects. The blue eagle gave a stoic nod to Gary and Mary, then peered into the coffin.
“You were a good man Walter,” the Eagle said solemnly. “A good American.” Sam lingered a moment, his eyes darting around Walter’s various stabbing injuries, his flattened body that the morgue had so desperately attempted to stuff back to its usual three-dimensions, and his scarred neck. “Hmm.”
Spamela Hamderson was transfered to Veterinarian Hospital the day following Walter’s death. Her condition had gone from Critical to Hospital Drama Critical. Only three doctors could possibly save her now, and neither of them had donned a doctor’s garment since the 1981.
“Nurse Piggy,” Dr. Rowlf addressed his two assistants, “Nurse Janice, it’s been a long time since we worked together to save a life.”
Janice chimed in, “And a way longer time since we actually saved a life!”
“Speak for yourself, space cadet,” Piggy grunted. “Moi has saved Kermie’s life more times-“
“Ladies, please!” Rowlf barked (har, har). “This is the first time in decades any of us has been allowed to step outside our respective roles of Kermit’s Love Interest, Token Female For the Electric Mayhem, and That Piano Playing Dog Who Almost Never Gets Any Lines. We can’t waste this scene arguing. We have to remind all Muppet fans reading this ficlett that we are more than just our cliched typecast-“
The doors burst opened, and in came a new patient on a bed, wheeled in by Poly Lobster and Clueless Morgan. The patient, barely conscious and breaking out in hives, was Mad Monty.
Rowlf exclaimed, “We’re already dealing with a medical emergency! Your friend’ll have to wait.”
“But he can’t wait!” Poly Lobster cried.
Clueless Morgan stuttered, “Y-y-y-yeah he can’t, Monty he’s allergic to peanuts-Poly you should’ve never even given him that peanut rum-“
“I didn’t give him any peanut rum you idiot, I told you a thousand times, they don’t even make peanut- rum!”
As they argued, Piggy and Janice exchanged horrified glances.
“Someone switched out his pirate rum with peanut juice?” Janice asked in a low voice. “And he’s allergic to peanuts?”
Rowlf muttered, “It’s the killer again. I’ll bet my favorite fire hydrant on it.” Catching himself, the doctor said more loudly, “I, I mean stay calm everyone! I’m sure the grocery store clerk just mixed up Monty’s order with Snuffleupagus’s. Monty and Spamela will both be fine. I’ll call Dr. Van Neuter up here, he and Piggy will work on the pirate. Janice and I will attend to Spamela. Poly, Morgan, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you two to leave until surgery is complete.”
Morgan begged, “Please Doctor, will Monty ever cut a throat again?”
Poly added, “Or, or make someone walk the plank or hang a victim from the crow’s nest and watch their little feet try to walk in the air while their faces turn low?”
“I promise you, Mad Monty will be slashing throats and plundering ships by this time tomorrow!”
Over the next several hours, the clock slowly ticked by as the doctors worked. The elegant black hands first showed 1:00 p.m. (over the image of a Cinderella Piggy fleeing the ballroom and losing her glass slipper). Then the scene faded to 2:00, and so on, as the montage continued.
Rowlf shook his head up at the clock. “Those Dramatic Montage Clocks give me a headache.” Holding out his paw, he ordered his nurse, “Scissors.”
“So,” Janice asked quietly, as she handed Rowfl the fabric-cutting scissors. “Who do you think’s killing all our friends, Rowlf?”
The dog grunted. “Obviously someone with an intense prejudice against Fabricated Americans.” He held out his paw. “Glue.”
“Elmer’s or Gorilla Glue?”
“Both. Wait, no; get me the hot-glue gun.”
“One hot glue gun, coming up.” Janice sighed. “Like hey, I don’t mean to point fingers at anyone, but I just realized that like, Spamela and everyone on Bay of Pigs Watch, like I mean like that show was really risque, you know what I mean?”
Rowlf stared at her. “…you goin’ somewhere with this?”
“Well like, Sam Eagle, he never really approved of that type of thing. And if memory serves, he wasn’t too crazy about those pirate guys, or… well really any of us for that matter. Just sayin.'”
“Janice, you and the Mayhem been sneaking the hospital’s morphine for recreation again?”
“Well yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do wi-“
“If it were Sam, you and the Electric Mayhem would be the first ones wiped out. Besides, Sam’s not a murderer. That’d be unpatriotic.” He held out his paw again for the next surgical tool. “Can opener.”
From the other table, Van Neuter said slowly, “Unless… he considers us ‘unpatriotic!'”
Janice concurred, “Like Mr. Body in ‘Clue!'”
“Oh please!” Piggy gave her blonde hair a swoosh, as she reached for another operating tool (a hand vacuum). “It’s not gonna be any one of the main good guys, it’s probably some obscure Muppet no one cares about, or a human guest celebrity.”
“I dunno Piggy,” Janice argued, “I think it’d be someone hiding in plain sight.”
“That’s enough!” Rowlf ordered, as he applied H20 from a watering can over his patient. “Focus on our patients, order of Dr. Rowlf!”
“Hey arne’t you supposed to be Dr. Bob?” Janice asked.
“Dr. Bob’s just a character I played on the Muppet show.”
Janice pried testily, “So you’re not really a Doctor then?”
“Me? ‘Course not.” Rowlf shook his head, his ears flailing. “I’m just a dog who plays the piano, and does a bit of acting on the side. Why, are you really a nurse?”
“Only on my boyfriend’s birthday.” Janice giggled.
“Moi would never get my hands this dirty in real life,” Piggy declared dramatically.
Van Neuter stopped and looked around the room. “So none of you are really doctors?”
Silence filled the operating room.
Rowlf cleared his throat. “I uh… I guess not.”
The four “doctors” exchanged glances.
Piggy asked quietly, “So Freak Show here’s the only actual medical doctor in this hospital?”
“Medical doctor?” Van Neuter laughed. “Hardly. I’m just a mad scientist!”
The four “doctors” exchanged a friendly, nervous laugh, that soon died down.
Rowlf glanced at the monitors over Spamela and Monty’s beds, both of which showed a long flat line and emitted a long consistent “bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep…”
“So um,” the dog chewed his face nervously. “Anyone knows what that flat line or long bleeing noise means?”
Janice shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s been going on for a few hours now.”
Van Neuter lifted Mad Monty’s wrist, taking a pulse. “Oh! This fellow’s dead.” He dropped the pirate’s limp arm.
Rowlf stared at the scientist, and then took Spamela’s pulse. “Hrmph. So’s she.”
The group exchanged another short bout of nervous laughter, ending with Rowlf rubbing his face with his paw. “Oh brother…”
From nowhere in particular, a voice narrated, “Will Dr. Bob, Nurse Piggy, and Nurse Janice go to prison for their malpractice? Stay tuned for the next episode of Veterinarian’s Hospital, the continuing stooooory of a quack, who’s gone to the dogs!”
Rowlf grumbled as the screen went black, “You can say that again.”
In the living room of the Muppet Boarding House, Kermit and Robin watched the TV in horror.
“Well,” Robin said, “That was a depressing episode.”
“Oh no,” Kermit whimpered. “Spamela and Mad Monty, too?”
“Well Uncle Kermit, if it’s alright, I’ll just turn on the news…”
Kermit arched his head back and bellowed, “EVERYBODY GET DOWN HERE!”
Dr. Teeth poked his head up from the basement, where the band had been practicing. “For Pete’s sake Kermit, who died?”
Zoot, the blue sax player, replied, “Another Muppet probably.”
Dr. Teeth’s eyebrows turned upward as he remembered the serial killer situation. “Oh yeah. Poor choice of words. My bad.”
The entire (surviving) Muppet cast was soon squashed around the kitchen table-Piggy, Rowlf, Janice and Van Neuter still in their hospital getups.
“This has gone far enough!” Kermit yelled. “So far we’ve lost Clifford, Mulch, David Hoggselhoff, Walter, and now Spamela and Mad Monty! Now I wanna get to the bottom of this, ASAP! Who is killing our friends? And why? And how do we stop this fiend?!”
A French voice replied, “We must first ascertain the pattern in the victims.”
Inspector Jean Pierre Napoleon sat perched on the top of the refrigerator, between the Muppet lobsters and some chickens, gracefully sipping a tiny latte.
“Mr. Napoleon!” Sam rose from his seat. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“I came as soon as I saw your edit to the script.” The human slid down from the fridge, landing on his feet. His coffee momentarily flew out of its cup as he did so, but the Frenchman flawlessly caught it back in his tiny mug, and strode to the front of the room. “Ladies and gentleman, frogs and pigs, chickens and whatevers, Mr. Sam Eagle and I are former business associates from a buddy-cop parody in the last film. We’ve some experience caching fiendish crooks. And it is our belief that before this murderer can be found, we must first deduce what all of his victims had in common.”
Several Muppets were already snoring at the table, but Napoleon ignored them. Kermit gave his rude companions a passing glance, and shook his head, before turning to Napoleon. “Have you found anything so far?”
“Mmm.” Sam Eagle came up next to Napoleon. “After careful research and examinations, Mr. Napoleon and I have come to realize that all of the killer’s victims…” the Muppets leaned forward expectingly. “…were Muppets.”
Faces fell, eyes rolled, sighs were let out and sarcastic comments were made. Someone even tried to throw a potato, which both Sam and Napoleon dodged.
“What my assistant means,” Napoleon explained, “is that the victims were all from your company, le Muppets. No one from Sesame Street, Fraggle Rock, Avenue Q, Yankerville, the Labyrinth, or any other Muppet-like area has been harmed. The killer is specifically targeting your theatrical group.”
“Beyond that, there seems to be no pattern,” Sam said. “They were all Americans—except for Clifford, who was a Jamaican with right to perform in the U.S., but not citizenship.”
Napoleon added, “We thought for a while that the killer was targeting minor characters, but then Walter was killed.”
“Then we thought maybe they were going after all the un-popular characters,” Sam continued, “but surprisingly, Walter and Clifford both had fairly decently sized fan followings. And Mad Monty would have been beloved by young adults nostalgic for ‘Muppet Treasure Island.'”
Gonzo pointed out, “That doesn’t mean the killer agrees.”
“True.” Sam said. “But every Muppet has a number of haters. My point is, it’s not a concrete similarity that we can go by.”
Napoleon shook his head. “Besides all being from your Muppet troop, the killings seem completely random. Clifford was a grown catfish, Walter was just a kid. Spamela, a buxom young pig in her 20s, Mulch, a centuries old humpback. No two murders were done with the same method, either: one was squashed, one poisoned, one drowned, one stabbed, one fed peanuts, and one stabbed and strangled and squished.”
“Hold on a moment,” Dr. Bunsen Honeydew pointed out. “Walter was killed when he went looking for the killer! Who’s to say he was ever originally on the killer’s hit-list!?” Next to him, Beaker gasped. “Maybe the killer is only targeting minor characters, and Walter simply got in the way!”
“Kermit,” Fozzie turned to his best friend urgently. “Do, do you think Ma counts as a ‘minor character’?”
Kermit’s face scrunched up in sympathetic terror. “I, I think she does Fozzie.” Kermit gasped. “And so does Robin!”
The little frog added, “And all our relatives back at the swamp!”
“OOOOH!” Piggy jumped in her seat. “My nephews, Andy and Randy! They’re at a boarding school in New Hampshire right now. What if the killer traces them there?”
“He found David Hoggselhoff at the beach,” Gonzo warned, “And Mulch at Dr. Van Neuter’s lab!”
Scooter realized, “My sister Skeeter’s in trouble too!”
Rizzo looked at Scooter. “You have a sister named Skeeter?”
“Well yeah. Didn’t you ever watch ‘The Muppet Babies?'”
Everyone stared at the rat.
“Okay, it was a central part of my childhood. But I thought they just made Skeeter up, to up the female count on the show.”
“Yeah,” Janice muttered bitterly. “Because it’s not like they already had some other girl characters to pick from.”
Scooter shook his head. “Skeeter’s real. She chose to leave TV work after childhood, and live a private life. Gophers generally prefer to stay behind the scenes. Heck, even I don’t like to get out there on stage more than once in a blue moon.”
Johnny Fiama, the green Muppet lounge singer, glanced around the table grimly. “Looks like we all got somebody in trouble. I gotta find my Ma and make sure she’s got protection. The pig’s gotta find her nephews. The shrimp needs ta find his elephant friend, and Rizzo, you’ll probably wanna get all your seven-billion-and-whatever rat siblings into hiding. And Sal—”
Pepe suddenly lunged violently at the singer, going straight for his throat.
Everyone gasped, and Piggy screamed, “Pepe’s the killer, I knew it!”
“Naw,” Rizzo shook his head. “He just hates bein’ called a shrimp.”
Both Napoleon and Sam Eagle had drawn handguns. Sam noticed with chagrin that Napoleon’s was bigger, and the eagle quickly pulled out a large assault rifle with his free wing. Rather than rehash the “mine is bigger!” gag from the last film, Napoleon simply rolled his eyes.
“I AM NOT A SHRIMP!” Pepe shook Johnny Fiama by the lapels with all four hands. “I am a KING. PRAWN. Say it with me now! King! Prawn!”
“King. Prawn.” Fiama nodded. “Got it.”
“AND SECONDLY…” Pepe’s anger vanished, and he released his hold on Fiama. “When did I ever have an elephant okay?”
“On ‘Muppets Tonight.’ The guy you used to do that annoying number with. You both wore red bellhop outfits, and dance around like a couple of poofs?” Johnny began dancing in his seat. “‘I’m Seymour! I’m Pepe! We’re two of a kiiind! I’m a little bit forward, and I’ve got a big behind!’ Remember?”
Pepe just stared.
“I don’t remember that either,” Rizzo admitted. “But then again, a lot of that job is kind of a blur to me. Between you, me, and the dozens of people at this table, I wasn’t strictly-speaking sober for a lot of those shows…”
Napoleon waved his hands, hoping to calm everyone down. “We must do two things. First, account for all of thee Muppets in that were ever in your troop, and put them somewhere safe. And second, we must compile a suspect list!”
Dramatic music started up, and Sam Eagle and Napoleon began a reprise of their “Interrogation Song” from the last movie. Kermit shook his head, and made his way to the living room. Robin followed him. Kermit picked up the phone, and called his relatives at the swamp.
“Hi, Mom? Yeah, it’s Kermit…No not Herman, Kermit. I’m the one with the TV show, and all the movies, remember? Yeah, okay. Listen, Mom: everyone in the swamp is in danger! There’s a sick killer on the loose, and he’s targeting minor characters of the ‘Muppet’series! Which would include you guys! I want you to get everyone out of that swamp, and somewhere safe, where no one will expect you to hide. I’ve got a few places in mind…”
Robin stood with his hands behind his back, while Kermit made all of his necessary calls. After everyone at the swamp, he called a few frog relatives who lived in various parts of the country, doing odd jobs, warning them about the situation. Finally, Kermit closed his cell phone.
“Well…I think that just leaves you Robin. We need to find a safe place for you to hide.”
“Are you sure you’re not forgetting someone Uncle Kermit?” Robin asked flatly.
“Who would I be forgetting?”
“Maybe my father!” Robin pulled the black folder from behind his back, and shoved it under the face of his petrified uncle.
“Robin! Where did you get that?!”
“I have my sources.”
“I’m sorry Kermit!” Gonzo called from the kitchen. “I didn’t want Robin to grow up like me, not knowing where he came from. I never would’ve helped him if I knew, you have to believe me!”
“Gonzo, for the love of all the chickens in this universe, can’t you mind your own business?”
“Can’t you let me know my own business?” Robin retorted. “All these years, you tell me my dad was run over by a lawn mower, and he’s really the most feared jewel thief in the world, and he’s in jail slated for exe—” Robin gasped. “Oh my gosh, my dad’s gonna be executed!”
“Robin, listen to me.” Kermit said sternly. “Constantine may have had a flipper in your creation, but he is not a father to you, or to anyone! Your mother made me swear never to tell you, so you wouldn’t grow up to be like him. I promised her I’d raise you to be a good frog!”
“A good frog wouldn’t let his dad get flambéed in the electric chair!” Robin fired. “Come on Uncle Kermit, surely you’ve got some kind of dramatic heist in mind to save your own brother?”
Kermit looked down and shook his head sadly. “No, Robin. Not this time. You don’t know, you’re young. You don’t know what the world was like, with Constantine in it.”
“Uncle Kermit, you’ve never been a supporter of the death penalty!”
“I’m still not Robin. Look, I already campaigned to get him a life sentence, after I realized who he was. It was no good. He’s a cold-blooded murderer Robin. You may think of him as your father, but I promise you, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone, not even his own son.”
“Well I…I believe you Uncle Kermit… but I still owe my existence to him, evil murderer or not.”
“Kermit!” Fozzie popped around the doorway. “Sam and Napoleon wanna see you! It’s your verse for the Interrogation Song!”
“Uh, coming.” Kermit looked sadly at his nephew again, then left.
“Gonzo?” Robin looked at the blue weirdo. “You’d love a chance for another heist, wouldn’t you?”
Gonzo’s face remained somber. “Robin…I… I dunno I…”
“Goooonzoooo!” Rizzo ran into the living room screeching at the top of his lungs, his tail smoking. “Oh god I feel so violated!”
“What happened this time?” Gonzo sighed.
“Sam Eagle and that crazy Italian, they’re tryin’new interrogation techniques. They had me chained to a wall, and were commin’ at me with hot prongs and poker sticks, it was like the pirate torture all over again!”
Gonzo’s eyes widened, and he bolted for the other room without even remembering to say Cool!. “Hey, Sam, Frenchy, I think I might know something about your killer, but it’s hard to remember! Someone might need to give me the proper motivation…!”
Rizzo shook his head at his friend. “Ugh.”
Not knowing what else to do, Robin trudged upstairs to his bedroom. He looked once more at the file on his dad, before sighing and turning to the framed photo of his mother on the dresser. The picture showed Deborah the frog, with the same eyes and green-shade of skin (well, fabric) as Robin. She was holding Robin, a newborn tadpole, standing in front of an airplane, in her flight attendant uniform. Somewhere along her travels, she’d met and married a Russian frog with a beauty mark. Did she know how evil Constantine was? Or had he once been a straight frog?
Robin wound up flipping on the old little ’90s TV on his dresser. The first channel brought up the Muppet news man. “Three more victims of the Muppet serial ki—”
Robin quickly flipped the channel.
“Tonight, we’re interviewing Lucy the Slut, on her journey to finding God—”
Robin flipped, making a face.
Robin’s little TV set only got three channels, and the third was showing reruns of “Alf.” So he had no choice but to flip back to the news.
“…although the killer has only attacked members of the ‘Muppet’ community, all Fabricated Americans are urged to practice safety measures, and be on their guard. Security measures are being taken nationwide, from Avenue Q to Yankerville. In Sesame Street, an integrated human/Muppet community, the biggest concern is the children—both the ones living there, and in the audience.”
The scene cut to Elmo, Zoe, and a human woman-Natalie Portman acutally-standing under the Sesame Street sign.
Natalie Portman explained, “We’ve decided to turn this into a learning experience. Okay kids, lets all welcome a very special muppet who will teach us some self defense moves.”
A rhaspy voice proceeded the speaker. “Lightsabers, you will first work with. Two green we have, three blue, one purple and four red.”
While the kids fought over who got which colored lightsabers, the Muppet news caster continued, “And on the other side of the country, the Niles Standish, the Earl of Yankerville, is doubling his forces, to keep his citizens safe.”
The scene switched to a regal office, where an obese Muppet with a handlebar mustache, dressed like a prince, was speaking on a gold telephone.
“…I want to you take the usual number of troops, and double it!…Hmm? Why not?…Hmm. All right, how about this: take your usual number of troops, cut it in half, and then double it…Good!”
The reporter concluded, “…on the other hand, the citizens of Avenue Q have taken a different approach.”
The scene cut to a cheap apartment, crowded with humans and Muppets. Robin recognized the two lovers he and Gonzo had found in the closet, back at the Archives. They appeared to be in the middle of a very hard-core, adult party, already having enough empty beer cans to build a replica of tenochtitlan. An orange fuzzy monster muppet was passing around a glass bong. A man who looked a lot like Gary Coleman was playing a piano, while two teddy bears danced drunkenly on the mantel.
A small green Muppet with dark hair told the camera flatly, in a voice that sounded oddly like Kermit’s, “We’re not even gonna try to make it through this one.”
His human friend added, “Our lives suck. Our jobs suck. Our luck sucks, we figure, instead of getting picked off one-by-one, we’ll just go out with a bang.”
As if on cue, a tall blue Muppet behind them loudly popped the cork of a champagne bottle. “Okay! Who’s ready for some drinking games!”
“And speaking of killers,” the Newsman read. “The countdown is almost finished, to the execution of the World’s Most Dangerous Frog, Constantine—”
“It really wouldn’t be right to let your own father die, even if he is a sociopathic murderer.”
Robin jumped. Someone was sitting behind him, on his bed’s back stand. Correction, two someones, one behind each of Robin’s shoulders. They were bears. With sickeningly cute, big, eyes, and wide smiles. One was blue, and wore a red polka-dotted bow tie. The other was yellow, with a bow on her head the same pattern as her brother’s, and a pearl necklace.
“Wh-wha-?” Robin looked between the two bears, then back at his TV, where the Avenue Q bunch were still partying-sans the bears. Robin pointed to the TV. “How did you…?”
“We have our ways,” the yellow female bear said causally.
Robin protested, “Avenue Q is on the other side of the country!”
“We sure were!” the blue bear admitted.
“Yeah,” the yellow female bear added. “And we couldn’t help overhearing your thoughts.”
“How can you ‘hear’my thoughts? From…” Robin counted on his flipper. “…a lot of states away?”
“Oh, it’s just a talent of ours,” the male bear said.
“Women’s intuition,” the yellow bear added.
“ESPN,” the blue bear concluded.
“Well how did you get here so fast? Are you magic or—wait a minute! I know, are you two my shoulder angels?”
The bears exchanged a glance.
The blue one said, “that’s one interpretation I suppose.”
“Okay,” Robin shifted on his bed. “Which one of you’s the good one, and which one’s the bad?”
“Now Robin,” the yellow bear cocked her head. “What kind of moral guides would we be if we just spelled everything out for you?”
“Yeah,” the blue bear said. “Growing up’s all about figuring out right and wrong on your own!”
“Um….well, do you really think my father has a shot, at escaping his death sentence all by himself?”
“Why not?” the yellow bear asked. “He got out of a Russian gulag didn’t he?”
“Yeah!” the blue bear said. “But of course, it would probably help a lot, if someone accidently dropped a pin into his mashed potatoes during his final meal. You know, for picking locks.”
“But only accidently!” the yellow bear said quickly. “That way your dad lives, and you’re not to blame for it!”
“What could possibly go wrong?” the blue bear prodded.
“What could go wrong?” Robin exclaimed. “How about the World’s Most Dangerous Frog back on the streets again!”
“But prison changes people!” the blue bear countered.
His yellow sister added, “Maybe you’re dad’s had a spiritual awakening, like our friend Lucy the Slut! She’s a nun now!”‘
Robin looked down in thought. “I wonder if I’d be allowed to go visit him. Maybe then I could find out if he’s changed or not.”
The blue bear suggested, “I’ll bet that would be a great moment for you to accidently drop in a tool for him to use to escape!”
Robin shook his head. “I’m not gonna do anything rash. I’m just gonna meet him, and see if he’s changed. That’s all.”
“That’s all!” the yellow bear nodded.
“Good idea.” The blue bear shot a fisted paw in the air. “And I’ll bet you’ll be really nervous, meeting your long-lost-dad-who’s-a-mass-murderer. You might be so nervous you’ll drop a hairpin into his cell!”
“I’m just gonna visit my dad.” Robin said sternly, as he headed back downstairs to get his coat.
Despite Constantine being a top-security prisoner, Robin found it surprisingly easy to get permission for a walk-in visit. He simply stared at the security guards with his little frog eyes, and their hearts melted. Robin had no idea he could even do that. He wished he’d figured that one out sooner; it would have made things a lot easier back at the Archives.
In order for Robin and Constantine to speak, they did the old talk-between-glass-with-telephones cliché. Constantine hardly seemed surprised to see Robin, when he sat down across from him. Robin felt slightly disappointed, because Constantine’s lack of surprise meant he had known he had a son, and still chosen not to be a part of his life. Wait, that’s what I’m upset about here?
Before Robin could continue dissecting his thoughts, his father picked up the phone, and addressed him in his chilling, Russian-murderer voice. “Hallo Robeen.”
Robin gulped. “Hi…dad.”
“So. You are mai long lost son.”
“Yeah. I…guess you never got a chance to call.”
“Ha ha. You make lame joke, like your uncle Kermit. How cute.”
Robin was taken aback. “If you’re just gonna be a jerk, I’m gonna hang up.”
Constantine’s face folded in. “Good grief, it vas a compliment. The reason I did not call is because my career as World’s Most Dangerous Frog has no room for tadpoles. That and your mother threatened me with bodily harm if I ever came near you after you were born.”
“Why did she ever marry you?”
“She was young. I was Russian gangster. She met me on a plane, I stole her heart with my foreign accent and bad-boy routine. We eloped in Bombay. She was on the way to becoming my female accomplice, when you came along. Then,” his voice rose, in a female impression. “Oh, we must set good example for the offspring!” He made a face. “Then followed divorce, followed by threat of bodily harm if I ever come near you again, followed by her choking on fly and you getting adopted by your swamp relatives, and me continuing my life of crime, free from the burdens of fatherhood.”
“So in other words, you chose your career over your own son!”
Constantine stared at Robin, as if he had missed part of the bigger picture.
“Yes,” the crook finally admitted flatly. “I chose career over my family responsibilities. This is worst thing I have ever done. That and blow up Russian gulag.”
“Are you saying, you’ve changed? You’re not evil anymore?”
Constantine stared, again. “…If I could have another chance at laif I would reform. I would become like your Uncle Kermit, and every day be all, ‘Hai-ho every-one! Let us talk about sharing, or the dangers of alcohol, or why it is hurtful to make crank calls to old ladies.'”
Robin wanted to believe it. On top of that, he was a Muppet, and Muppets aren’t known for their great foresight. So he believed every word his father was telling him.
“Awe, I wish there was something I could do for you, Dad. Somehow though, I don’t think I’ll be able to talk them out of electrocuting you.”
“There is something you can do for me, Son.” The Russian frog leaned in and lowered his voice. “I have a safe, under the name Michigan J. Frog. Inside is a little package, containing something very dear to me. It is nothing extremely explosive, just some old photographs and a lucky penny from my youth. Find it and give it to my friend Nadya. She is due to visit me in a few days.”
“Oh sure Dad! Anything!”
“But whatever you do, don’t look inside the package. Some of those photographs are not family-friendly.”
“Okay!” Robin stopped, then did a double take at his father. “Wha…?”
“Go! Now! Quickly! Before your Uncle Kermit notices you are missing and becomes cross!”
“Okay! Okay dad, I’ll do this for you.” Robin paused, wondering if there was something else he should say. But then he noticed the time, and realized Kermit was probably already waiting crossly for him to get back. “I’ll, I’ll see you soon!”
The young frog hurried out of the prison.
A/N: I apologize for taking two years to put up another chapter. I thank the people who prodded me into continuing this. I cannot say when the next chapter will be up, but this is one story I do very much want to finish.