Editor of
Features Editor at Death & Taxes Magazine, contributor to The Week, Interview, and Vice Magazine.
-
“What now?” said Kermit. It was just before dawn in Manhattan.
“It’s Morning in America…” said Elmo. He was wrapped in a police blanket and sipping on a cup of hot coffee.
“I don’t know how to ever repay you,” said Kermit. “Really. I always regarded you as the new kid, the red menace, taking it away from us, the street, y’know? But now I realize you deserved it,” said Kermit. He placed his hand on Elmo’s shoulder.
“Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha. That tickles,” said Elmo. He placed his hand on Kermit’s, and they looked eachother in the eye. That was all the thanks Elmo needed, that look from Kermie, the kind of brothers they were to eachother despite one being green, one being red, it didn’t matter. The Street - specifically, Sesame - had brought them together.“Fuck,” said Kermit “I almost forgot”.
“Forgot what?” I said.
Kermit reached out his green hand.
“Here, take this,” he said. It was a keychain with a red button on it.
“You’ll know when you need to use it. We’ll be here. The Street. We’ll be there for you”, he said.The sun was starting to rise. Kermit looked up at the morning sky. You could hear cars starting to honk.
“What a crazy story this’ll make,” he said.
“Fuck yeah. Want a bump?” said Elmo, dipping his finger into a small baggie.
Kermit laughed. It was good to see him laugh again.
________THIS CONCLUDES THIS EDITION OF ‘THE STREET: MUPPET NOIR’.
-
“Looks like you’ve got me,” said Gonzo.
He was right.
“I knew you’d fall right into my plan,” he continued. “Here you are. In New York. On top of 419 Park Avenue South. At 8pm.”
“What are you goddamn talking about?” I yelled. The sound of the police helicopter overhead was deafening. “Just give us the pig.”“The pig is mine,” he screamed. “I’ll fucking kill her if you take one false move. She’s a goddam whore. She tried to fuck you and you ain’t even a Muppet. You think I don’t know about that? I got ears, man. And this pig squeals.”
“WEE! WEE! WEE!” said Miss Piggie.
“Quiet, goddamit”, said Gonzo “There’ll be no goddam reunion if I drop the swine.”
“GIVE US THE PIG”, yelled the police helicopter.
“I got Scientology money!” screamed Gonzo. “I don’t need no goddam reunion!”
“Then why did you try to break up the Muppets? Because you’re fucking jealous of Kermit? That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?” I yelled.Gonzo pointed the gun at his head, still holding onto the dangling Piggie.
“You’re a piece of shit, Hepburn”, he said.
“You just want to be accepted,” I said “That’s all you’ve fucking wanted. To find your place. And you found it for many years. But then you decided it wasn’t good enough and you had to ruin their lives to make yourself feel better. And that’s bullshit.”
“You should really come in and have your thetans read”, yelled Gonzo “I sense anger”. He grinned menacingly. It seemed that Gonzo’s role in 1999’s Muppets from Space had pushed him close to Katie Holmes, who had gotten roped in with Scientology. Eager to be accepted by a woman, Gonzo had followed her into the dark heart of Scientology.
“Fuck your Scientology bullshit!” I yelled.
“Boys! Boys! There’s enough of me to go around! Weee! Weeee!” shrieked Ms Piggie.
“SHUT UP!” screamed Gonzo, pointing the gun back at her. I had to agree with him. Piggie had a voice that could cut through fog on a good day, let alone being hung over the side of a building by a deranged Muppet. My ears immediately started to ring.Gonzo seemed pressed. There was nowhere to run. All he had left was the Pig. He looked confused, shattered, as if he hadn’t slept in a week. He looked down at the street below, Manhattan on a Sunday night teeming with onlookers. Yellow taxis packed Park Avenue South for blocks in either direction and a good portion of the restaurant Les Halles had emptied onto the street to see the commotion. Gonzo looked back up at me. He seemed to look both frantic and relieved at the same time, like he’d just finished a long run and I was a glass of cool water. But quickly, this faded, as the wind picked up from below, causing one of Piggie’s heels to fall onto the street below. She squealed.
“Shoot me!” he screamed. “Shoot me and lose your precious piglet!”
Behind Gonzo came a loud whir, which grew more and more.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” screamed Gonzo.A second police helicopter rose from behind Gonzo and he whipped around to see the familiar red head of Elmo looming from behind the police helicopters controls, with Kermit at his side, still in a hospital gown. He picked up the voice transmitter, and Elmo’s familiar-to-millions voice echoed over Manhattan.
“It looks like your nose ain’t the only crooked thing about you,” he said.
“BACK OFF, ELMO” yelled Gonzo.
“Vaya con dios, bitch”, said Elmo over the microphone.
“You’re a federal fucking agent!” screamed Gonzo.
“Is that true?” I yelled over the noise of the helicopter and the din of the police sirens.
“I. AM AN FBI. AGENT.” barked Elmo. It made sense. The drugs, the helicopter… not all cops aspire to be good cops.
“Give us the pig!” shouted Kermit,
“Fuckin’ traitor! I could never have what you had! Nobody wanted me! Not nobody! I made it here myself! You think you can take me? You’re gonna need a fucking army to take me down! You fuck with me? YOU FUCK WITH THE BEST! YOU LITTLE COCKROACHES, YOU WANNA PLAY GAMES?” screamed the blue goblin. He relaxed his grip on Piggie. She was beginning to slip…
“HEPBURN, DO IT NOW!” screamed Elmo.I fired my gun.
Blue blood sprayed Piggie’s face. He took it in the shoulder.
“I’ve been hit!” yelled Gonzo.“Noooooo!” screamed Miss Piggie. She started to fall.
In a flash of green and white, Kermit jumped from the helicopter. Around his waist a length of rope.
His green hand extended towards Piggy as she was starting to fall, seemingly in slow motion, towards the street.
“KERMIIEEEEEEE!” she screamed.
“I’VE…. GOT…. YOU!” he yelled, screamed, broadcast, thundered to the world.
His green hand outstretched meshed with her pink fingers. One hand. Now two, the other around her wrist.For a second, from where I was standing, Kermit holding Piggie above the Manhattan sidewalk so far below was silhouetted by the moon.
“This little Piggie,” said Elmo over the mic, “Is going all the way home.”“Son of a…” said Gonzo. It was just me and him now, on the rooftop.
He pointed his gun at me. I’d never had this happen before, in all my years of detective work. It surprised me how calm I was, despite looking down the wrong end of the barrel of a gun.
“You… you fucking human. You don’t know what it’s like to be me,” he seethed, clutching his wounded shoulder. He was breathing pretty heavily.
“I don’t, Gonzo. You’re right. But put down the gun. We’ll get you a plea bargain. You’ve gone…” I said. But he cut me off.
“I’ve gone what? Crazy? I’ve gone crazy, alright. Crazy as a coconut. Cuckoo! Cuckoo!”. He pointed the gun at his head.
“Don’t do this to yourself”, I said “It’s not worth it”
“Fuck you, Hepburn”
And he pulled the trigger. I closed my eyes.But nothing happened. I opened my eyes again.
Gonzo clicked frantically. “God… damn… it just ain’t my day… week… month… maybe year….” he said. I could hear him now as the helicopter had flown to an adjacent building. I walked over to him. He spat something into his hand.
“Cyanide,” he said. “I’ll do it if you come any closer.”
“Gonzo…” I said.
“What?”
I shot him in the knee. He dropped the pill, and it fell harmlessly over the side of the building. He screamed in agony.
“Fucking…. prick….” he said between gasps of pain.“Next time, play nice.” I said.
-
Kermit’s recent suicide attempt affected the Muppets greatly. The tension in the waiting room between was palpable between Elmo and some of the other patrons, as Elmo was still recovering from the bullet wound he’d sustained just a week or so before and was clearly not ready to pal around with autograph seekers. However, the tension was soon laid to rest by the arrival of Oscar The Grouch wearing his trashcan, and it had never looked so damn clean.
“What’s all the commotion?” said Oscar.
The gang looked up and smiled.
“Thank fucking God you’re here”, said Elmo “I can’t believe Kermit nearly did it. I can’t believe he was that low and we didn’t help him…”
“It’s not your fault”, said Oscar.
Elmo started crying. His red shoulders heaved with all the weight of the Western world. You could make out the bullet wound he’d recieved just a few days earlier as he cried into the shoulder of Oscar.
“Watch it, buddy! This thing’ll rust!”, bellowed Oscar to the room.
“Goddamit, you’ll always make me laugh”, said Elmo. He wiped some snot away from his nose.The doctor appeared in the doorway and scratched his nose with the pen. He’d ditched the scrubs for a black polo shirt.
“Sorry about the change in dress. This, this is my lucky black shirt. Kermit. He’s… he’s lost a lot of stuffing” said the Doctor.
The temperature in Elmo’s smile cooled down several degrees.
“But he’s OK, right?” he said, his voice quavering with an emotion somewhere between anger and pleading.
“He’s going to be alright”, said the Doctor. The room erupted into a near applause.
“You can visit, if you’d like”, he continued “But one at a time.”One by one the Muppets entered the room and there he was, one of the most famous frogs in the world, near naked as a lima bean from the waist down and only a white hospital smock to cover him.
“Hey little buddy”, said the Doctor, kneeling down and holding Kermit’s frail green hand. Someone snapped a picture.
“Hey Doc”, said Kermit.
I stood by the door. I’d figured it out. Gonzo was behind all this. I wasn’t sure how, and I didn’t have the kind of jurisdiction to just fly to his compound in New Mexico and just knock. I’d have to lure him out… but how? My mind was racing.Oscar leaned in next and continued his act from earlier. It was good to see him back in costume again - none of the bullshit Hollywood pomp he’d be flirting with for years, this was back to Brooklyn for him. Back to the street. Sesame Street.
“Hey! What happened? Bump your head?” said Oscar.
Kermit chuckled. “It’s good to see you too, Oscar”, said Kermit. “How’s Susan?”
“The wife? Oh, she’s good. Doing fine. You know. All My Children and all.”
“You have children?” said Elmo.
“No, that’s the show. Susan, er, Lucci. My wife”, said Oscar.
“Oh,” said Elmo “I thought that was just a rumor”.
Kermit clasped Elmo’s hand.
“Old pal,” he said “It’s good to see you”
Elmo’s eyes welled up.
“I… I’ve been such an ass…,” said Elmo. He looked at the floor, then at the wall.
“You haven’t. You’ve always been you deep down”, said Kermit.
“I do drugs, man. I’m a fuck up. I… I’m a big red fuck up. A big red disaster.”
“But you’re you,” said Kermit. “And that’s more than I can say for so many other people in my life, friend.”
Elmo smiled.
“Did I miss something?” said a voice at the door.The gang knew that voice from anywhere.
There, at the door, were the giant green and white striped socks, purple shoes, red dress and purple cardigan of The Nanny. Of course, no-one could see her face. But it was her, alright.
“It’s me, alright”, she said.
The gang hooted and hollered. For the first time in nearly 20 years, The Nanny, Oscar, and Kermit were reunited. Elmo had arrived a little later, after the Muppet Babies, but he knew her as clear as day.
“Where’s Piggy?” asked The Nanny.
“Don’t…” said Oscar.
“It’s fine,” said Kermit “She’s out of my life now. She called. Sends her regards. She’s somewhere in New Mexico.”
That piqued my interest.
“New Mexico, you say?”
“Yeah, Ned.”
“She’s with Gonzo”The room fell quiet again, and all eyes were on me.
“Gonzo’s behind all this,” I said. “He’s the rotten apple.”
“But Gonzo?”, said The Nanny “Why him?”
“Because he has the motive. He’s been envious of Kermit since they were babies. Muppet Babies. He’s wanted Piggy since Day 1. And he knew that he’d have to nearly blow up Beaker and Professor Honeydew in the process. And he knew Elmo was buying from Beaker that night. And he set out the hit on Elmo,” I said. “And he knew that we’d rally around Kermit. All he had to do was set the plan in motion. Make the group fall apart, and leave Kermit vulnerable. It was the one thing he didn’t do but knew would fall into place. He knows we’re all here right now. And all we have to do is lure Piggy away and we’ve got him, man. We’ve got him.”
“Damn,” said Elmo. “The kid is right”
Oscar cocked his head to the side and put his hands on the edge of his can.
“You’re a good detective, Hepburn”
“I’m not a detective,” I said. “Just a good friend. I grew up watching you guys. Kermit especially. It’s not about me. It’s about you. You stand for so much in this crazy fucked up world of ours…”. I trailed off. My throat was clenching up.Kermit looked up. His eyes looked alive for the first time in years.
“You’ve been a good friend,” he said. I felt like crying. But I couldn’t. Maybe all the years of hardboiled detective work had hardened me to the idea of crying infront of my best friend - my best damn Muppet.
“You’re crying,” he said.
“I’m not. Just something in the air,” I said. -
Kermit tried to kill himself. I wish I could say I wasn’t surprised. He left this as his suicide note. He’s awake in the hospital now, nobody can get a word out of him. I’ll have to try tomorrow.
-
Kermit sat in the waiting room at Lenox Hill Hospital.
“Who the fuck would try and kill Elmo?” he said “Does this have anything to do with me? With getting the Muppets™ back together?”
I wanted to tell him it didn’t - that this was all due to Elmo’s cocaine trafficking or something, maybe someone trying to get in on his turf, but I knew it wasn’t. Someone didn’t want the Muppets™ to get back together.“I can’t believe it. This was all supposed to be a joke,” said Kermit, barely audible now. “We were just supposed to be a damn variety puppet show but now look at us, we’ve turned into - ” he motioned his green webbed hand towards the waiting room; the city.
“This”, he said. “We’re just a bunch of…. fucking puppets.”
He looked at his feet and started to cry. Not the kind of “we’ve run out of ice cream” sorority girl shit; the real deal; tears of a broken man. I stood up and slapped him across the face.
“Get ahold of yourself, man” I said. “Not here. Not now. Do it on your own damn time”
“You got a smoke?” said Kermit, tears still coming but not crying now, which made it seem all the worse.
“You know I quit five years ago” I said “You know that.”
“Can’t blame a frog for trying,” he said “It’s not easy being green.”I let the tired joke hang there for a second before crashing stillborn to the floor.
Kermit took a flask out out of nowhere. He put his finger to his lips and handed it to me. I took a swig. It felt good, like being hit with a brick wrapped in satin. I handed it back to Kermit and he took a swig and handed it back to me, and this continued until the flask was halfway empty. The waiting area smelled like cleaner and death; the whole setup reminded me of my mechanics. This was where life came when it was broke, I thought.
“You gotta have a lead”, I said. “Who doesn’t want the Muppets™ together?”
Kermit screwed the cap back on. “Beaker and Professor Honeydew don’t have a dog in this fight. They have to be working for someone else.”
“What about Piggy?”
Kermit sighed.
“Piggy’ll go where the money will take her,” said Kermit. “I love that swine. With all my heart. Always have, always will. But I can read her like a damn book. Someone’s paying her not to talk. Someone with deep pockets. Someone who has an axe to grind.”
I thought about the business card, 1AAA.
“What about 1AAA, on the business card left behind when they tried to whack Elmo? He thinks its The Count. Think about it. One triple A. Or…. One. Ah, ah, ah. Get it?”
Kermit spun around. “What would The Count have anything to do with all this?”Kermit lit another cigarette.
“Those things’ll kill ya,” I said.
“Not if someone else does first,” he said. And he was right. By all accounts, Kermit was the lynchpin. We had to keep an eye on him. They’d be after him soon.Kermit looked at me. His eyes were still wet, but there was a look of determination behind them. I smiled what I could. It had been a long day.
“The deeper we get into this the less it makes any sense,” I said “Who would try and kill Elmo? Who would intentionally break up you and Piggy to break up the Muppets? Who has the money to pull it off? And who engineered the explosion at the laboratory that gave Beaker his speech impediment?”Kermit looked at the floor.
“I was there that night,” he said “At the lab. The night it exploded. It was supposed to be me.”
“But Beaker?” I said, shocked at this news “Why would you be hanging around with that… that damn hophead?”
“Because of the drugs, man”, said Kermit “Look, shit ain’t pretty no more. A frog does what he can to stay sane in this… hell hole of a world”, he threw the cigarette on the ground “Don’t lecture me, Pops. Beaker and I had an arrangement. I got 70% of whatever rolled down Sesame St. I kept the whole Dr Teeth & The Electric Mayhem band together. They needed their drugs, man. They were a goddam funk band for crissakes. Now look,” he said, pausing for a second to gather his emotions, “I tell you that in good faith. Don’t go spreading that around. I’m not a pusher. I’m just a businessman giving the people what they want. If you want legality,” he said, lighting another cigarette “Go seem a damn Alderman. But when the going gets tough, I’m the frog you look for”
“Kermie,” I said “Then who would want to kill you?”
“I dunno”
“You must know”
“Whoever they are. They must be batshit fucking crazy because this doesn’t make any damn sense. None of the pieces fit. They’d have to be crazy. Fucking insane to mess with me”, said Kermit. “Elmo and me. That’s why they’re trying to kill us. Because without there is no Sesame Street. I made that fucking street what it is. Elmo too, but goddam it if I’m gonna unify it again if it’s the last thing I do”.I snatched the cigarette out of his green flappy mouth.
“This is a goddam hospital and there’s a goddam cancer ward two floors below. So mind your damn manners. And two, a kid could walk in here any minute”, I said. Elmo shrugged and lit another.We sat for a while, the only sound being the hum of the soda machine and the sound of footsteps elsewhere. An hour went by before the doctor came back, and Kermit had fallen asleep. I shook him awake.
“Is he OK, doc?” he asked.
“Elmo will recover,” said the doc “If they’d gone an inch higher we’d have one dead muppet on our hands. But they only hit his tickle box. He just needs a new casing. Lost a fair amount of blood. We’re gonna keep him overnight.”
The doctor seemed to just then recognize Kermit.
“Mister, uh, The Frog. I’m a big fan.”
“Mm”, said Kermit.
“May I, please, have your - “
“Depends if you can write me a scrip for Valium.” said Kermit “Make it two. Or whatever my boy here wants, too”
The doctor seemed puzzled, and looked at me. I nodded.
“Very well,” said the doctor. “I have all your movies. Big fan. A real pleasure to meet you”
He handed Kermit two prescriptions, a notepad and a pen. Kermit sat back down and cracked his wrist.
“Thanks, doc”, said Kermit “Now, who do I make this out to?”
“Trent,” said the doctor “Trent McMillan. That’s my, that’s my kids name”Kermit wrote and signed and handed the objects back to Doctor McMillan.
“I appreciate it.” said the doctor “May I say something, well, off the record, between us?”
“Sure,” said Kermit.
“Thank you,” said the doc, “It just, seems so odd … that - that someone would try to kill… well… Elmo.”
“Tell me about it”, I said. “You’d have to be nuts. Crazy in the coconut. You’d have to be insane.”
“A fool!” said the doctor “Unbalanced! Gonzo, even!”The doctor chuckled and put the papers under his arm.
“Good evening, gentleman. Your friend will be fine. Get some rest.” And like that he was gone.I turned to Kermit, but he was looking at me first, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing.
-
Elmo coughed and looked up.
“Is is that hard to just ask kids to dream anymore?”
I didn’t know what he’d meant. I’d been sitting in the back of the ambulance with him for twenty minutes now. Traffic was holding us up from the hospital which was just half a mile away; maybe four or five blocks, I thought aloud to noone in particular. Elmo had been losing blood pretty steadily. We’d been quiet the last couple of minutes listening to the ambulance driver swear at the relentless Manhattan traffic.
“I mean, is it that damn hard to ask them to keep dreaming. The world’s tough, Hepburn. Real fucking tough. But I think we…”He coughed then and spat blood. It matted his fur.
“God damn”, he said.
An hour ago we’d been in the lobby at the W Hotel for a USO gathering. Someone had tried to kill Elmo, right infront of all those kids. The guy had gotten out of there in all the commotion, but not before dropping a business card. All it had was “1-AAA” written on it.
“I just want to make a difference,” Elmo said “You don’t understand.”
“I do,” I said “I do, Elmo”
“No man,” he said, coughing again “It’s a wicked world out there. You can try and try and try and never make it. But how can you tell that to a damn kid? A damn kid. You have to look them in the eye and say ‘Yeah you’re gonna be a princess or a ball player or a rock star’. Just so they can sleep like that at night. You try telling that to a damn adult…” He coughed again. I wiped up the blood from his fur.“You try telling that to an adult and they’ll goddam punch you in the face. Nobody wants to believe in hope anymore. It’s not applicable to anybody anymore. But it’s all there. It’s all there, all our damn dreams, they’re all right where we left ‘em, we could do anything if we weren’t such assholes to eachother.”
“Right”, I said.
“You’re not even listening, are you?” he said.
“I am. I’m just thinking.”
“‘Bout?”
“About what the 1-AAA means on the card. I can’t figure it out”
Elmo thought about this in silence for a minute.
“Sounds like The Count”, he said.
“What do you mean?”, I said.
“Think about it, man” he said “One. Ah. Ah. Ah.”
It made sense. Perhaps too much sense for the back of an ambulance with a Muppet between life and death. But why would The Count want to kill Elmo?
“Shit, that makes sense”, I said.
“That’s why I get paid the big bucks”, said Elmo, with no hint of irony.“Get some rest,” I said. “We’ve still got a few blocks to go”
“Do you know how fucked up shit is right now? With the jobs and how everyone is yelling at eachother? We’re all goddam Americans here - even the immigrants - and you KNOW how I feel about that - but even THEY are Americans, too, man”
The driver swore again.
“It sure is rough, man. But what are you gonna do. It’s not your fight”
“It is my fight. It’s everyone’s fight. People should take some goddam responsibility for the outcome of our lives, mon ami. Life doesn’t get handed to you on a platter. I worked damn hard to get where I am. And I’m not gonna let some fuck with a gun try and stop me from ending it on my terms.”
Elmo coughed and sat up on the bed, turning his body to face his feet to the floor.
“Fuck this, I’m walking”
I lunged for him. “ELMO!”But before I could stop him he had gotten out and taken out his tubes, clutching his side as his bloody hospital frock waved in the wind exposing his red ass. He looked back at me.
“You comin’?”
I walked with Elmo through the cars, Elmo coughing the whole way there. He was a tough son of a bitch. From out of one of the back windows of the traffic jam a child waved, and Elmo stopped dead in his tracks and waved vigorously and smiled as if nothing was the matter, that he wasn’t one of the biggest stars in the world walking bloody and bullet ridden through Manhattan.
“What you gonna be when you grow up, kid?” he yelled.
The kid replied something we couldn’t hear from the busy street over all the traffic Elmo just smiled and nodded, giving the kid a thumbs up. The kid seemed overjoyed.
“Don’t lose hope, y’little fuck”, Elmo said under his breath. -
It was a rainy day in Paris at the cafe I’d been sitting at for close to three hours now, having missed Honeydew. Beaker had given me false information. ‘Never trust a fucking muppet’, I thought.
The phone rang. It was Elmo. Mariachi music played in the background and I heard what could be gunshots.
“They’re having a damn parade down here. I don’t know what for. But I ain’t going outside with all those gunshots”, said the familiar voice “I heard you talked to Beaker”
“How’d you know?”, I said.
“You think I’m a dumb actor, don’t you? Just some red ball of fur? I got GPS on that schizoid fuck. He made a run for it. He’s in Bejing. Probably buggering some poor kid. I’m not one to judge. The amount of children that have tickled me for money…” he said.“I need an exact location on that fuck”, I said as I gathered my papers.
Elmo laughed.
“You won’t get anything out of him you haven’t gotten already. But I’ve got something bigger. Something that’ll blow your mind.”
I sat back down. “I’m all ears”
“Are you familiar with the actor John Hodgman?”
“Sure”, I said. I’d seen the Mac ads.
“You’re not going to believe this.”
“Not going to believe what?”
“If you get to Hodgman you’ll get to Honeydew”
My head span a little. Perhaps it was the exhaust fumes of a passing Vespa.
“Say it again. In English, Elmo. In goddam crystal clear English”
“They’re the same guy”, he said.
“Elmo… you can’t be serious”
“I’m 100% serious, Hepburn.”Elmo cleared his throat.
“Honeydew is Hodgman”.
___________TO BE CONTINUED…
-
“Mememememe,” said Beaker.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Mememe, mememe, memememememememe. Meme,” he continued “Memememe, mememe. Mem. Mememe.”He sat back and lit a cigarette.
“Mememe?” he said, offering me the pack. It had been a while.
“Sure,” I said.
“Meme meme meme,” he proclaimed.
“Light?”, I said.
He offered me a light. I took it, and lit my cigarette.“Mememe. Me.”
“You know what I’m here for, Beaker.”
“Meme! Mememememememememememe. Mememememememe. Me. Memememe.”
“Where is Professor Honeydew?”
“Meme meme Me me?”
“Goddamit, Beaker. I need to know. There’s a correlation between the accident that caused your speech impediment, Kermit and Piggy’s breakup, and the disbanding of the Muppets”, I said. I pushed my jacket back, showing the gun in my waistband.“Meme. Me. Me. Me”, said Beaker.
“Don’t be a hero,” I said. “I need to get to the bottom of this. I need answers, Beaker. Otherwise I’m going to break shit.”
Beaker laughed. “Mememe!!!!!!”, he said.I picked up a glass beaker. He had a few laying around. I threw it at the wall above his head. It made a big noise. I liked big noises.
“Meeeeeeeeee!” shrieked Beaker.
“TELL ME WHERE PROFESSOR HONEYDEW IS”, I yelled, grabbing his collar.
Beaker took a pen from the table and wrote an address on a Post-It note. I pushed him back. The poor bastard started to cry.“Save it for the judge”, I said. I was going to move fast if I wanted to get to Honeydew.
-
“Piggy was a goddam harlot,” said Pepe The Shrimp, one of Kermit’s best friends “She’s looser than an anorexic elephant.”
“Harsh words”, I said, stirring my coffee.
“Look, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it”
“Sure,” I said.Pepe had taken some initiative after the disbanding of the Muppets and had gone on to be a set dresser on Boardwalk Empire. He lived in a nice three story brownstone in Brooklyn, a couple of blocks away from Five Leaves in Greenpoint, which is where we currently were. Pepe sat and looked out the window at the cars going by.
“This neighborhood sure has changed,” he said “We used to film in Brooklyn back when it was sunny days, you know, chasing the clouds away. Now it’s all douchebags on fixies.”
“At least you’re getting laid”, I said. Pepe had recently moved in with a 24 year old hairdresser with asymmetrical bangs and an ass that looked like an upside down lower-case ‘b’ when she turned to the side.
“You have to try the burger here, man,” he said. “Get it with the truffle fries”.
“I think I will,” I said. “Now tell me about the Tribeca night”Pepe shook his head.
“Man, that shit was rough,” he said “I mean, De Niro? Infront of Kermit? We were right there, man”
The picture still haunted me. There was Piggy openly displaying affection for Robert De Niro - himself no stranger to her advances. Kermit, Pepe, Gonzo and Fozzie looked onwards awkwardly not inches away. You can almost see Kermit’s heart breaking in two.
“Back in the 70’s, before Taxi Driver, they used to bang”, said Pepe.
“No shit?”
“Yeah shit,” said Pepe “Can you imagine the smell the next morning? Pesto and bacon”. He chuckled to himself.The waiter arrived - an attractive yet instantly forgettable Australian guy. He looked like a male model for a department store. He took our order, and I followed Pepe’s advice and got the burger with the truffle fries.
Pepe’s phone rang.
“Hey babe,” he said “No, no, just sitting here with Hepburn. He’s trying to get the gang back together.”
He put his hand over the reciever. “Dames,” he said “Gotta love ‘em”.
I looked out the window as he continued to talk to her. The 20 year age gap was daunting to say the least but the heart wants what it wants. Goddam did I want a drink, I thought. But I couldn’t. Not now. I needed my brain today.“Sorry about that,” said Pepe. “Have you heard of - uh - whattyacallthem - Grizzle Bear, I think she said? She’s going to see them tonight. Apparently they’re a band, I guess. Man, I don’t know fuck about shit these days”
“What else do you know about Piggy?”, I asked.
“I know that Gonzo knows things. He knows why Beaker can’t form a goddam sentence. It has to do with Piggy. But Gonzo? He’s hard to get ahold of, locked himself in his place in Owl Creek and won’t talk to nobody”, said Pepe. “Y’know Waldorf and Statler saw pretty much everything from that balcony. Rowlf might know a thing or two. He’s gay now, did you hear?”
I hadn’t heard.
“Strange shit, man”, said Pepe.Piggy’s harlotry had ruined Kermit. But there was more to it. Why had the Muppets really broken up? Where was Professor Honeydew? Why wouldn’t Beaker talk? There were so many questions and not enough answers. I was gonna get to the bottom of this if it killed me.
Little did I know that it nearly would.
-
Elmo was knee deep in cocaine and pussy when I arrived at his villa outside of Tijuana around 1am. Two busty señoritas ushered me in; he’d been expecting me, they said. He has a lot of eyes and ears in this town, they said.
One of them knocked on the door. A young girl came out in what I suppose one day had been a very nice dress but had since been reduced to tatters. She clutched a hundred dollar bill in her palm and scurried away down the stairs.Elmo was hunched over a table with a straw up his nose doing lines the size of caterpillars. He looked up, cocked his head, and put his hand on the gun on the table.
“I don’t want any funny business”, he said.
“Elmo, it’s only me”
“Still”, he snarled “This is my fucking town, you understand me?”
He sat back and thumbed his nose. Cocaine mixed with snot, and he licked his thumb. It was disgusting, but par for the course. Elmo had ‘fuck you’ money, and a carefully crafted public image. The voice was still the same off camera as it was on the show, but Elmo carried himself much differently. In truth he was a dark, dark muppet - hell bent on destruction, cocaine, and getting as much pussy as he could wrangle.“Do you want a line?”, he said, and pointed at the cocaine on the table with his gun.
“I’m good, Elmo. Thanks.”
“Suit yourself, faggot”, he said before taking a monster snort.“JEEEEEEEEEEEESUS”, he said, rearing his head back as if in heavy orgasm. “That’s fucking good shit. Pure. You can’t feel your face”. He pointed to his face with the gun.
“Don’t wave that shit about”, I said.
“My house, my rules, fuck-o”, said Elmo. “What do you want with me anyway? Do you want money? Is that it? Here”. He threw a wad of cash on the table.
“No, Elmo. I don’t want cash.”
Elmo coughed. He took a finger and licked it before sticking it into a pile of coca.
“Do you want pussy?” he said. “Inez!”A woman who I gathered was Inez appeared by his side.
“Inez”, said Elmo. He seemed at a loss for words. “Uh, pee on that potted plant, I guess”
Inez sighed and dropped trou before peeing on the potted fern.
“Goddamit, Elmo. Stop all this nonsense. I just came here to talk.”
He snapped his fingers. Inez stopped urinating and pulled up her pants, muttering something under her breath in Spanish. Elmo gave her a handful of money. He didn’t count it. He didn’t need to.“I want to put the gang back together”, I said.
“Who’s in?”, he said, looking intrigued.
“Well,” I continued “Nobody yet, but - - “
“Don’t WASTE MY FUCKING TIME” he yelled.
“It’s Kermit”, I said.
“What about him?”
“Piggy left him. He’s just fucking gone, man”
“That fucking sow got her pork rinds together and left, huh”
“Yeah”Elmo waved his hand. Suddenly we had the room to ourselves.
“Sure you don’t want any of this?”, he said.
“Yeah, I’m sure”
“Fine”
“I need you to do this for me, Elmo”, I said “For the gang. For old times.”
Elmo scratched his head.
“Fuck old times”, he said.
“Elmo - “
“I got a life now, man. I’m Elmo. I’m a brand. Big red.”
“Kermit’s suicidal. I don’t think you understand”
Elmo looked up.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah”Elmo walked to the dresser and poured a brandy.
“Want some?”
I nodded. He poured generously.
“Look,” he said “I’ll see what I can do. You talked to Oscar yet? Is he in?”
I nodded.
“Good, good”, he said. He snapped his fingers and within seconds people entered the room again.
“So are you in?” I said.
Elmo lit a cigarette.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll do it for Kermit.”
“I knew I could count on y - “
“Don’t start with that faggot shit, Hepburn”, he said dismissively.
“Ok, Elmo”, I said. “Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it”, he said, and offered a brief smile. “I can get you on a small plane out of here. Under the radar. There’s blow onboard but it’s hid good,” he said, ashing his cigarette off the balcony into the Tijuana air. “You’ll be in San Diego in no time. There’s a taxi waiting for you downstairs. I can even get you a taxi back in San Diego to wherever your going. I’ll call in a favor for you. I know people.”
“Thanks, man”
“Hey, it’s good to see you”, he said.
“You too, Elmo”, I said.
“Sure. Now if you’ll excuse me…”Elmo sat back down on the couch in the center of the room and waved over a woman. We caught eyes as I looked back. He waved, smiled. It was good to see the real Elmo again, if only for a second. I closed the door behind me and started walking down the stairs.
Above me, just faintly, I could hear him laugh.
“That tickles!”, he said. -
The phone rang.
“Hello?”, I said.
“This is Oscar”, said the voice. “Oscar G.”
“Oscar, it’s me, Ned”, I said.
“Right, right”, said the voice.Oscar had done pretty good for himself since the gang had disbanded. He had taken a job in the industry and was now a pretty high-up voiceover agent at Gersh. He was a fixture on the red carpet these days, too. He was dating Susan Lucci. It pissed off the other Muppets.
“I’ve got a few minutes to talk”, he said “So make it quick”
“I’m trying to get the gang back together”, I said.
“Fuck that”
“Goddamit, Oscar”
Oscar laughed over the phone. It sounded just like it had 20 years ago.
“Let’s grab a drink. I’m gonna push back this meeting. Meet me in an hour at Kings.”An hour later I found myself sitting across from Oscar at Kings, a respectable diner for Hollywood types a mile or so away from the CAA building which loomed in the distance like a dying sun, catching the last of the days sunlight that peeked through the rain clouds. Oscar looked different in a suit, having ditched the ubiquitous trashcan a few years back. He had ordered me a sandwich - a BLT with no mayo - and an Orangina with lots of ice. The guy knew me pretty well.
The rain did strange things to LA. Oscar looked out at Beverly Boulevard and its denizens scurrying to and fro under umbrellas, their feet barely touching the sidewalk. Oscar poured some crackers into his soup and stirred it.
“We were just babies when we started in this game. Muppet babies. Is it so crazy to want to bow out gracefully?”, he said.
“It’s killing the rest of them”, I said.
He sighed heavily.
“Goddam”, he said “Kermit’s really in that bad a shape, huh?”
“Yeah”, I said “It’s weird, man”
“This fucking recession”, said Oscar.Oscar lapped up his soup and spouted some wisdom about Hollywood these days and how it had changed since his days in the limelight. “It’s a young Grouch’s game”, he said. “I’m too old. Nobody wants to see me put on that trashcan anymore, man. It’s tired.”
I shook my head. “You were a part of something. You still are. Just think about it, OK? Kermit really needs this.”Oscar waved the waitress over and asked for the check. I pulled out my wallet.
“No, it’s on me”, he said. “I got this one”.
I looked at him, giving him eye contact. “Will you promise to think about it?”
Oscar rubbed his hands together emphatically. “Sure, sure. I got a lot going on these days. But yeah. I’ll get back to you”, he said. It sounded like he meant it.“I got a flight to catch. Say hi to Susan Lucci for me”, I said.
“I will,” said Oscar. “Where ya heading?”
“Mexico”, I said. “Elmo.”
“Damn. Good luck”, said Oscar, but I didn’t hear him. I was already out in the rain, hailing a cab. -
“I don’t feel super any more”, said Grover. “It’s just not there anymore.”
“You need to get a job”, I said. Grover was laying on the floor.
“There aren’t any fucking jobs”, said Grover.
“You’re not looking hard enough”, I said.
“IT’S A FUCKING RECESSION”, snapped Grover.Grover looked at the ceiling fan.
“I’m sorry”, he said.
“It’s fine. I don’t really care”, I said.
“How’s Kermit doing?” said Grover. He seemed genuinely concerned.
I wanted to say that Kermit was doing better, that he was back to his old self and that everything was going to be fine. But it wasn’t. Kermit was probably just back at the apartment staring at the TV, or if it was past seven he’d probably be drinking.
“Not good”, I said.
“Damn”, said Grover “And Piggy?”
“She’s pretty tore up, too” I said.
“That bitch”, said Grover. He’d turned into a real ass in the last few years.I looked at Grover’s book shelf. There were pictures of him during the good days, flying over the city as Super Grover and palling around with the rest of the gang. It made me a little sad that a few feet away lay the real thing - the genuine article - and that he couldn’t even get himself up off the floor.
“Do you want some pot?”, said Grover in a low voice.
“Nah”
“I scored some H”, he said.
“You’re doing heroin again?”, I said “Do you know how much we busted our ass to afford you to get rehab? Kermit worked his goddam green ass off. He’s got his own damn problems. You’re a fucking idiot. How can you go back to that shit? You used to be somebody, you dumb fucking animal”, I said. I realized my heart was racing. I’d been yelling.Grover shrank back, alarmed that I cared enough to yell at him for his drug addiction, his shoulders seemed to slope just that much more.
“Why do you care?”, he said.
“You dumb fuck. You need to lay off of that stuff.”
“It makes me happy”
I exhaled out of my nose the way one does when they can’t laugh.
“Look at you.”
“What about me? I do what I want. I’m fucking GROVER. You can stand on my shoulders and call yourself tall all you want. You rode my coat tails all the way to Hollywood you - “
“Listen to yourself! Quoting Aaron Sorkin! Do you think I wouldn’t fucking notice? You’re a fucking ass these days, man. You used to be a nice guy. Now you just sit around and get high all day and think about the old days”, I said.
“Fuck you”, said Grover.
“No,” I said. “Fuck you”.He lit what I thought was a cigarette, but it smelled like pot. He took a few liberal drags. Didn’t even offer it to me. Not that I cared.
“I’m sorry”, he said. I didn’t even reply.
We sat in silence for a while. Grover’s eyes glazed over and his face seemed more full, a little red perhaps mixed in amongst the blue. I flipped through a magazine Grover had on his coffee table. All the Muppets, looking happy. It made me a little sad to look back at Grover. He was stoned out of his mind, drawing circles in the air with his finger.
“Near……. far……..” he muttered.My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Kermit.
“I should probably go”, I said, but Grover was too out of it to notice. -
“Kermit misses you”, I said to Miss Piggy - or ‘Nikki’ as she was going by now.
“I don’t care. I really don’t. Do you know how hard it is for a woman in this town?” she said. She leaned back on her red recliner. The room carried a heavy smell of cleaning products despite the fact that she’d lit a candle.
Miss Piggy looked at me, her eyelids drooping in the way that I’d seen in countless films and television specials. She was showing her age but wearing it well, her pink face seemed almost sanguine for a second.
As quickly as it had appeared the moment dissipated and Miss Piggy quickly looked towards the window.
“Well,” she sighed “What did he say? Anything I should worry about?”
“He said he loves you”, I said. Kermit had been wallowing around the apartment for a number of weeks now, trailing behind him a trail of cigarette smoke and depression.
“And he’s drinking again”, I said.
This caught her attention.
“Christ”, she said.
“Yeah”, I said. And I looked out the window too.The room was quiet for a minute except for the sound of a car alarm from what I gathered was the next block over.
“Did he say anything else?”. Her voice sounded almost plaintive, as if she was asking a stranger for some change.
“You know what he’s like”, I said.
She smiled. “Yeah. Sometimes I miss it”. She quickly caught herself. “But not all the time”
“You should probably call him”, I said.
“I’ll think about it”, she said.She turned to face me. Her purple dress would have revealed some cleavage if she had had any, I thought. But I couldn’t think about her in that way. She was a friend. Not a very good one, but a friend none-the-less.
“Do you want to stay for a drink?”, she said “You know, I always liked you. If it wasn’t for Kermit we - “
I cut her off.
“You know I can’t do that”, I said.
“Have it your way”, said Miss Piggy.The room went quiet again except for the car alarm. Then somebody stopped the car alarm, and all you could hear was some distant traffic and the sounds of her downstairs neighbors making dinner, the clanging of pots and pans ten feet under us was starting to make me hungry.
“I should really get going”, I said.
“Are you sure?”, said Miss Piggy. “Just stay for one drink.”
“Goodbye, Miss Piggy”, I said. Although I was tempted. If just for a second. She was a movie star after all.
“‘Till next time. Could you lock the door on your way out?”, she said, and gave me what may have been a wink, but could have just been something in her eye. I had my hand on the doorknob.“Sure thing, Piggy”, I said, and walked out.
-
“If rent goes up anymore next month I’m going to key that fucking landlord’s car”, said Kermit, exhaling fastidiously.
“And another thing,” he said “I’m not sitting in a car while you and Genevieve swan around Home Depot for eight straight hours forgetting that all you went in for was a goddam broom and come out with half your share of the electric bill in knick-knacks”.He ashed and looked out the window.
“Your coffee’s going cold”, I said.
“Fuck the coffee”, said Kermit.
He was silent for a while as he stared out the window.
“I really miss Miss Piggy”, he said after a long minute, and took a deep sigh.
“We all miss Miss Piggy”, I said.
“You don’t even fucking know the half of it”, said Kermit, and as he turned to me I saw that he was close to crying, his eyes dewy and round like the midday sun behind a bank of clouds. He’d been like this for the last three weeks. Sure, some things would bring him out of it, but the next day it’d be right back to this - staring out of the window or furrowing his brow in a newspaper. I thought of something to say.
“Genevieve and I are going to D.C”, I said. “To the Jon Stewart rally. You know. It’ll be a good time.”
“Fuck that”, said Kermit, exhaling through his nose and ashing his cigarette for the third time that minute “I’m not sitting in a car for eight straight hours from Chicago to some lawn in D.C while you - “
“You don’t have to hurt us”, I snapped curtly to Kermie “It’s not our fault she moved on”
“Fuck you”, said Kermit. I knew that I wasn’t going to get any more out of him that morning.“Have it your way”, I said.
He didn’t reply.
“Do you want any more coffee?”, I said, standing over the sink, ready to pour the still hot remains of the pot of strong coffee into the sink.
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking”, said Kermit.
“I - “
“Y’know”, Kermit interrupted “Y’know, I can be a real asshole some times, huh?”
I laughed.
“Yeah, yeah you can”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright”, I said, and for once his eyes showed a familiar spark. He seemed happy, if only for a brief second.
“I think I will have the rest of that coffee”, he said, and took a sip of what was left. I poured the rest in, and he looked at me.
“It’s not easy being green”, he said.
“I can only imagine, Kermit”.We were silent and finished our coffee while I read the newspaper.
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