It was like striking gold while playing lawn darts in the backyard, then remembering your house was situated over an Incan pyramid: a thrilling discovery that, in retrospect, should not have surprised you.
Kermit... of course, Kermit!
“What else do you like about him?”
“Hmmmph... he’s cute when... he’s mad.”
“Uh huh.”
“He’s ...cute when he... mmmm... panics.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Gonzo agreed solemnly as he filed away his brilliant discovery for, heaven forefend, future reference. If you need to keep someone talking, just bring up his or her favorite subject.
Two year old children living in tribes that had never heard of electricity knew Miss Piggy’s favorite subject.
“Always cute... has flippers.”
“So he does. Are they cute?”
“Flippy, cute and flippy.”
“Cute, flippy flippers.”
The faintest ghost of a smile graced her face and her eyes, though still half closed and far away, had regained some of their sparkle. Gonzo felt a bit better as he held her protectively, waiting impatiently for Scooter to return. Poor Piggy had to fight to speak, to listen, to stay awake but, thank goodness, she was undeniably willing to fight for her frog.
Unfortunately, becoming more aware meant becoming more aware of pain, and more worried about the source of the pain.
“My head hurts... where is he? Where’s flipper... frog?” Piggy shifted so that she was actively clinging to him now, helpless as a child, frightened as one newly awoken from a nightmare. “I don’t know where he is.”
Gonzo rubbed her back, as helpless as she to fix this. “Kermit’s in France, Piggy, doing the talk show rounds. Do you remember that?” He felt her head move in a tiny little nod against his neck. She sighed sadly and whispered, “Want Kermie back.”
“Me, too.” Gonzo agreed.
Shortly thereafter, Scooter returned, physically dragging the enormous Sweetums, who was certainly the most trustworthy of the monsters. “Oh, thank goodness. We’re going for a ride now, Piggy.” Gonzo had seen the unnerving vulnerability in her pain-shadowed eyes and knew that panic was not far off. He had never seen the pig actually panic in all the years he’d known her, but even when perfectly in control of her emotions, Piggy was a force to be reckoned with.
“Sweetums here is gonna carry you so we don’t hurt your head, okay? I’ll make sure he keeps them where I can see ‘em so you don’t have to wallop him, Piggy.” Rowlf chuckled softly behind him in easy appreciation.
Reluctantly, Gonzo relinquished her to the monster’s care, watching intently as Sweetums bent down and scooped her up like a baby. He made his way cautiously down the stairs, not helped at all by the Muppets hovering anxiously.
“I called the hospital, so they’re expecting us. How’s she doing?”
“All things considered, I think she should have stayed in bed this morning.”
“Yeah,” the dog snorted softly, “I’m sure she wishes she had.” Fozzie held the door open as they made their way outside. The car was running, doors wide open, ready for their mission of mercy.
“Careful, careful. Oh, don’t touch her ear!”
An anguished shriek tore its way free from her throat as her injured ear brushed against the lip of the door. The wound was reopened and started bleeding profusely as Piggy kicked and writhed in protest.
