Muppet Holiday Baking Show
Dec. 21st, 2024 02:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eastofthemoonTime for my annual muppet fic for the holidays. Enjoy!
Muppet Holiday Baking Show
Rating: G
Series: The Muppets
“Okay,” Scooter called as he flipped the camera on and held it up. “We’re ready to go!”
“Alright,” Fozzie cheered as he waved to the camera. “Hiya, folks! And welcome to the very first Muppet Baking Show, which will be hosted by yours truly, Fozzie the Bear!.”
“And me, Rowlf the Dog,” Rowlf said before gesturing behind himself. “But before we go see what our contestants are baking, let’s meet our judges.”
“Drumroll, please, Animal!”
A drum suddenly rolled past them and the camera.
Fozzie sighed. “Hey, come on Animal, I’m supposed to be doing the jokes here.”
“Sorry, Foz, but you know he takes things literally,” Floyd called.
“Mmmm,” Animal called. “Literature tasty.”
“Anyway,” Rowlf said as he directed Scooter and the camera to their right. “Here are our judges, the Swedish Chef and Uncle Deadly.”
The Swedish Chef grinned and waved as Uncle Deadly gave a thoughtful nod.
“Thank you, it is a pleasure to be here,” Uncle Deadly said.
“You know, I can understand why the Swedish Chef volunteered to be a judge,” Rowlf said, “but I'm kinda surprised to see you one too, Deadly.”
Uncle Deadly shrugged. “Oh, it’s not that surprising. I’m no master, but I do make a killer stew...also no one else wanted the job and Kermit offered me fifty dollars in recompense.”
“You're getting paid?” Fozzie asked.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Within the baking tent, Fozzie and Rowlf walked over to the first contestant on their list with Scooter following close behind.
“Hey, Kermit,” Fozzie greeted as the frog looked up from his mixing bowl. “Whatcha making for us?”
Kermit looked up a bit startled. “Oh, you’re starting with me?” He cleared his throat. “Well, this is an old family recipe passed down through the generations. It’s a type of a banana cream pie.”
“Ooh,” Fozzie said curiously. “I do hope it’s a-peeling then!” He laughed at his own joke as Kermit groaned.
Rowlf seemed unfazed as he looked into Kermit’s bowl. “Anything else going in there besides banana?”
Kermit perked up. “Oh, a special family ingredient.”
“Is it oranges?” Fozzie asked hopefully. “I got a good orange joke I’ve been wanting to use, and all our musical numbers have to rhyme.”
“Uh, no,” Kermit replied. “Flies.”
Dead silence followed.
“Flies?” Fozzie said slowly.
“Yup,” said Kermit as he dipped a spoon into the batter. “It’s my great aunt Eda’s sweet fly pie. Want a taste?”
Fozzie gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh, uh, normally, I would love to, but I had a big lunch so I don’t-”
“Sure!” Rowlf exclaimed as he took the spoon, put it in his mouth and swallowing the batter without hesitation.
He licked his lips. “Pretty good, although it might need a bit more sugar.”
Kermit nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Great aunt Eda was always a sweetie, and I was worried about overdoing it.”
Fozzie couldn’t speak as Scooter zoomed the camera on him and his dropped jaw.
“How?” he asked Rowlf.
Rowlf shrugged. “What? I’m a dog. We don’t care where we get our protein.”
Fozzie raised a finger to speak, but seemed to realize he really didn't want to question this further.
-----------------------------------------
After the fly-tasting, Fozzie and Rowlf decided it was time to split up for a bit and thus Rowlf found himself at Piggy’s station.
“Hiya, Piggy how's it - woah! How are you done already?”
Piggy brushed her hair over her shoulder as she struck a pose for the camera. “Oh, when you became an expert baker like moi, it is a trifling thing to whip up the finest of delights in a jiffy!”
“Ah, sure,” Rowlf said as he looked over the very detailed and finely painted cookies that were clearly depicting Piggy’s own face. “What icing did you use?”
“Royal icing of course!” Piggy held up one of the cookies. “I only use the finest of ingredients! I’m certain once our dear judges taste these they’ll-”
“You ordered these from a bakery didn’t you?” Rowlf said flatly.
Piggy gasped in shock. “How dare you?!” She gripped the cookie as if it were a weapon, eyeing Rowlf as a potential target for confectionary wrath. “You accuse moi of trying to cheat-”
“Uh, Piggy,” Scooter spoke up, “you still have the takeout box at your station and it has the price tag on it.”
His camera zoomed in on the box that read ‘Liza’s bakery’ on it.
Piggy chewed her bottom lip and looked up at the both of them.
“Pay you both twenty bucks to keep your mouths shut.”
---------------------------------------------------------------
Fozzie could feel a migraine starting. He was starting to regret not taking his mom’s advice on keeping some ibuprofen on hand.
“Why,” he muttered, “why are you two here?”
Statler handed his wooden spoon to Waldorf. “Well, we wanted to cook and we figure either we risk getting burned by the stove at home-”
“Or we can come here and burn you,” Waldorf finished causing both old men to chuckle. "Dohohohoho!"
Fozzie gave a deep tired sigh. It was fine. He just had to get this over with.
“Okay, what are you two cooking up?” he asked slowly.
“Sourdough bread,” Statler replied.
Fozzie looked up hopefully. Maybe this could be a civil conversation?
“Oh? That sounds tasty.”
“It should,” Waldorf replied. “We’ve found the perfect ingredient to give it plenty of sourness.”
“Oh? What's that?”
“One of your jokes,” the old men said in unison. “Ohohohohohoh.”
Fozzie shook his head and left the table muttering under his breath. “Why do I even try...”
Scooter, however, stayed behind and focused the camera on the two of them. “Okay, seriously, what are you two making?”
“An apple pie,” stated Statler.
Waldorf froze. “I thought we were making a meat pie.”
Statler paused. “Oh...I was wondering why you were chopping those onions. So it wasn't for fake tears?”
Both men slowly looked into the now very questionable mixing bowl.
“No one tell the bear,” they said in unison.
----------------------------------------------
“Hey, Gonzo,” Rowlf called as he approached. “Don’t mean to criticize, but is this really the best time to be looking at your phone? You've only got so much time to bake.”
“No need to worry, Rowlf,” Gonzo said as he put down his phone. “I was merely double checking my recipe for the perfect cake.”
“Oh?” Rowlf asked now very curious. “What’s the perfect recipe?”
Gonzo reached under his station and brought out his ingredients. “A cup of sugar, 2 cups of flour.”
Rowlf nodded. “Yeah, okay.” It didn’t seem anything special so far, but he wasn’t an expect baker, maybe the proportions would-
“Half a cup of baking soda.”
“Say what?”
A loud thud was heard as Gonzo placed a giant jug on his station. “A gallon of vanilla extract.”
Rowlf covered his hand over his mouth as he mulled over what was in front of him.
“Where exactly did you get this recipe?” he asked.
“The most reliable place for all kinds of information,” Gonzo said. “Tumblr.”
“You, uh, really sure you should trust that?”
Gonzo blinked puzzled. “Why? Do you think people would lie on the internet?”
Rowlf raised and lowered his hand. Nope, he didn’t think he had enough time today to explain that answer.
----------------------------------------------
Fozzie had been a bit concerned when he heard that Bunsen and Beaker were also competing. However, he didn’t see anything explosive looking so far, so he carefully approached their station.
“Hey, you two ready to RISE to the occasion. Hahaha,” he greeted as his ears wiggled.
“Indeed we are,” Bunsen said as Beaker was taking a loaf of bread out of the oven. “We at Muppet Labs believe we have concocted the optimal variant of jalapeño bread.”
“Meep!” Beaker said as he removed his oven mitts.
“Jalapeño bread, huh?” Fozzied asked. “Did you need something to spice things up? Huh, huh?”
“Not quite,” Bunsen as he seemed unfazed by the pun. “I don’t care much for sweets and jalapeño is one of Beaker’s favorites.”
“Meep meep!” replied Beaker.
“Speaking of which Beaker,” Bunsen said as he cut into the bread for a small piece. “We need to see if the chemical balance has enhanced the pepper's natural spiciness as hypothesized. Would you do a taste test?”
“Meep, meep,” said Beaker as he popped the piece of bread into his mouth.
He chewed, but then became still. Then suddenly his face turned red and literal flames shot out of his ears.
“MEEP!” he cried out as he dashed to the fridge in the tent. He knocked over Rizzo as he opened the fridge and chugged down a full carton of milk. A low sizzle could be heard as the flames faded to smoke.
Beaker took a long deep sigh of relief.
“Ah,” Fozzie said as he approached. “I guess that bread was too hot to handle, huh?”
Beaker shook his head as he gave a thumbs up.
“Beakie really likes things spicy,” Bunsen explained with a grin.
From a short distance away, Scooter turned his camera around toward Uncle Deadly and the Swedish Chef who both looked very dismayed.
“I'm nut trying zeet,” said the Swedish Chef. “Nu vey.”
“I do concur,” Uncle Deadly stated. “Perhaps I should give one of my enemies a ring...”
---------------------------------------------
“Alright, judging time,” Scooter shouted as he aimed the camera at both Fozzie and Rowlf. “Think everyone is ready for this?”
“Well, I don’t want to sugarcoat it, but I think they’re on a roll!” Fozzie cheered.
“And it looks like Rizzo is up first,” Rowlf stated as he pointed.
Scooter moved the camera so the little rat was in the frame as he carried a giant covered plate over his head.
“All right judges,” he said with a grunt as he placed it in front of the Swedish Chef and Uncle Deadly. “Feast your eyes on this!” He put his hand on the lid. “My Uncle Remy’s famous triple chocolate fudge brownies!”
He lifted the lid.
The judges stared at the plate, then at each other and then again at the plate.
“Zee-a plete-a is impty,” the Swedish Chef said.
“Yes,” Uncle Deadly said as he pointed. “Like the kingdom of Ozymandias, nothing here remains, save chocolate brownie crumbs.”
Rizzo shrugged. “What? I had to taste test it, didn’t I?”
“I’m amazed there even are crumbs left,” Rowlf replied.
--------------------------------------
Uncle Deadly took a nibble on his fork and gave a thoughtful nod. “I will say, Pepe, while your cake is a bit messy it does have a nice coffee flavor, and the nuts elevate the texture.”
The king prawn chuckled proudly. “Hey, it’s only natural. Baking runs in the family, okay? And-”
“No, no, no,” yelled the Swedish Chef and he shook his head. “Der iceenen is too roonynyen und yoo deedn't pooten een enoofen soogar. Elsoo der caken is soo goomgoomee, yoo cooden be cooled keeng oov der peeraten -”
“Okay, okay,” Pepe cried with a growl. “Why don’t you just stab my heart while you’re at it!”
“Yeesh,” Fozzie muttered to Rowl. “Third time in a row, did you ever imagine that Uncle Deadly would be the nice judge? This feels like my last comedy routine with those hecklers.”
“I would,” Rowlf replied with a sigh. “You weren’t at the last pot luck.”
-------------------------------------------
Uncle Deadly barely looked at the cake before staring straight into Gonzo’s face. “I refuse to eat this.”
“Seem heeren,” declared the Swedish Chef. “I radeneer eet Kermeet's pie.”
“Oh, come on, guys,” Gonzo said as he gestured to his very flat looking cake. “I used all natural ingridents.”
“Yes, and I can tell you from personal experience that many poisons are natural,” Uncle Deadly said. “This cake looks so gummy it seems closer to rubber.”
“I doont dinkendink ve cannen cooten dees,” the Swedish Chef said as he poked at the cake.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gonzo said as he got out the knife, swinging it in the air above his cake. “Look you can just chop right through it - arrgh!”
The knife came down, and abruptly bounced back up. Gonzo rebounded with it, tearing through the tent and into the air. Scooter did his best to get the tiny dot that was now Gonzo caught on camera before he started to plummet in the distance. A loud thud was heard outside the tent.
“Oh, my gosh,” Fozzie said as everyone went to look out the tent “Do you think he’s okay?”
Suddenly, the melody of The Rainbow Connection started to play.
“Sorry, that's my phone,” Kermit said as he quickly answered. “Kermit the Frog here. You're sure? You’re where? Right, uh, I'll send Beauregard to pick you up.”
“Was that Gonzo?” Rizzo asked.
“Yeah, he says he’s okay,” Kermit shook his head. “He said he landed in the strategic banana reserve.”
“Why do we have that?” Miss Piggy asked.
Fozzie opened his mouth.
“Fozzie, if you say ‘because it’s a-peeling’ I will shove Kermit’s pie in your face.”
Fozzie shut his mouth.
Scooter swung his camera back to face into the tent where Uncle Deadly and the Swedish Chef were still examining Gonzo’s cake.
“I would suggest throwing it out,” Uncle Deadly said, “but I’m afraid it will bounce back for vengeance.”
-----------------------------------
“Alright, alright, everyone step back,” Bobo said as the fire fighters continued to douse the flames. “Everything’s under control.”
Scooter directed the camera back to the burning tent.
“At least the flames aren’t as high now,” he said before spinning the camera back to the muppets.
“I swear, if any of my hair got scorched, the tent won’t be the only thing on fire,” Miss Piggy muttered as she checked her compact mirror.
“In hindsight,” Uncle Deadly stated, “we should have predicted this would be the outcome when we introduced the technical challenge.”
“Yeah,” Fozzie said, “things got really heated up.”
Several groans were heard.
Scooter pointed the camera at Kermit. “So, is this the end of the contest?”
“Yeah, I don’t think we can use any of this,” said Kermit. “Stop filming, Scooter.”
Scooter turned the camera to himself.
“Happy Holidays!” he said as he cut the recording.
Muppet Holiday Baking Show
Rating: G
Series: The Muppets
“Okay,” Scooter called as he flipped the camera on and held it up. “We’re ready to go!”
“Alright,” Fozzie cheered as he waved to the camera. “Hiya, folks! And welcome to the very first Muppet Baking Show, which will be hosted by yours truly, Fozzie the Bear!.”
“And me, Rowlf the Dog,” Rowlf said before gesturing behind himself. “But before we go see what our contestants are baking, let’s meet our judges.”
“Drumroll, please, Animal!”
A drum suddenly rolled past them and the camera.
Fozzie sighed. “Hey, come on Animal, I’m supposed to be doing the jokes here.”
“Sorry, Foz, but you know he takes things literally,” Floyd called.
“Mmmm,” Animal called. “Literature tasty.”
“Anyway,” Rowlf said as he directed Scooter and the camera to their right. “Here are our judges, the Swedish Chef and Uncle Deadly.”
The Swedish Chef grinned and waved as Uncle Deadly gave a thoughtful nod.
“Thank you, it is a pleasure to be here,” Uncle Deadly said.
“You know, I can understand why the Swedish Chef volunteered to be a judge,” Rowlf said, “but I'm kinda surprised to see you one too, Deadly.”
Uncle Deadly shrugged. “Oh, it’s not that surprising. I’m no master, but I do make a killer stew...also no one else wanted the job and Kermit offered me fifty dollars in recompense.”
“You're getting paid?” Fozzie asked.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Within the baking tent, Fozzie and Rowlf walked over to the first contestant on their list with Scooter following close behind.
“Hey, Kermit,” Fozzie greeted as the frog looked up from his mixing bowl. “Whatcha making for us?”
Kermit looked up a bit startled. “Oh, you’re starting with me?” He cleared his throat. “Well, this is an old family recipe passed down through the generations. It’s a type of a banana cream pie.”
“Ooh,” Fozzie said curiously. “I do hope it’s a-peeling then!” He laughed at his own joke as Kermit groaned.
Rowlf seemed unfazed as he looked into Kermit’s bowl. “Anything else going in there besides banana?”
Kermit perked up. “Oh, a special family ingredient.”
“Is it oranges?” Fozzie asked hopefully. “I got a good orange joke I’ve been wanting to use, and all our musical numbers have to rhyme.”
“Uh, no,” Kermit replied. “Flies.”
Dead silence followed.
“Flies?” Fozzie said slowly.
“Yup,” said Kermit as he dipped a spoon into the batter. “It’s my great aunt Eda’s sweet fly pie. Want a taste?”
Fozzie gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh, uh, normally, I would love to, but I had a big lunch so I don’t-”
“Sure!” Rowlf exclaimed as he took the spoon, put it in his mouth and swallowing the batter without hesitation.
He licked his lips. “Pretty good, although it might need a bit more sugar.”
Kermit nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Great aunt Eda was always a sweetie, and I was worried about overdoing it.”
Fozzie couldn’t speak as Scooter zoomed the camera on him and his dropped jaw.
“How?” he asked Rowlf.
Rowlf shrugged. “What? I’m a dog. We don’t care where we get our protein.”
Fozzie raised a finger to speak, but seemed to realize he really didn't want to question this further.
-----------------------------------------
After the fly-tasting, Fozzie and Rowlf decided it was time to split up for a bit and thus Rowlf found himself at Piggy’s station.
“Hiya, Piggy how's it - woah! How are you done already?”
Piggy brushed her hair over her shoulder as she struck a pose for the camera. “Oh, when you became an expert baker like moi, it is a trifling thing to whip up the finest of delights in a jiffy!”
“Ah, sure,” Rowlf said as he looked over the very detailed and finely painted cookies that were clearly depicting Piggy’s own face. “What icing did you use?”
“Royal icing of course!” Piggy held up one of the cookies. “I only use the finest of ingredients! I’m certain once our dear judges taste these they’ll-”
“You ordered these from a bakery didn’t you?” Rowlf said flatly.
Piggy gasped in shock. “How dare you?!” She gripped the cookie as if it were a weapon, eyeing Rowlf as a potential target for confectionary wrath. “You accuse moi of trying to cheat-”
“Uh, Piggy,” Scooter spoke up, “you still have the takeout box at your station and it has the price tag on it.”
His camera zoomed in on the box that read ‘Liza’s bakery’ on it.
Piggy chewed her bottom lip and looked up at the both of them.
“Pay you both twenty bucks to keep your mouths shut.”
---------------------------------------------------------------
Fozzie could feel a migraine starting. He was starting to regret not taking his mom’s advice on keeping some ibuprofen on hand.
“Why,” he muttered, “why are you two here?”
Statler handed his wooden spoon to Waldorf. “Well, we wanted to cook and we figure either we risk getting burned by the stove at home-”
“Or we can come here and burn you,” Waldorf finished causing both old men to chuckle. "Dohohohoho!"
Fozzie gave a deep tired sigh. It was fine. He just had to get this over with.
“Okay, what are you two cooking up?” he asked slowly.
“Sourdough bread,” Statler replied.
Fozzie looked up hopefully. Maybe this could be a civil conversation?
“Oh? That sounds tasty.”
“It should,” Waldorf replied. “We’ve found the perfect ingredient to give it plenty of sourness.”
“Oh? What's that?”
“One of your jokes,” the old men said in unison. “Ohohohohohoh.”
Fozzie shook his head and left the table muttering under his breath. “Why do I even try...”
Scooter, however, stayed behind and focused the camera on the two of them. “Okay, seriously, what are you two making?”
“An apple pie,” stated Statler.
Waldorf froze. “I thought we were making a meat pie.”
Statler paused. “Oh...I was wondering why you were chopping those onions. So it wasn't for fake tears?”
Both men slowly looked into the now very questionable mixing bowl.
“No one tell the bear,” they said in unison.
----------------------------------------------
“Hey, Gonzo,” Rowlf called as he approached. “Don’t mean to criticize, but is this really the best time to be looking at your phone? You've only got so much time to bake.”
“No need to worry, Rowlf,” Gonzo said as he put down his phone. “I was merely double checking my recipe for the perfect cake.”
“Oh?” Rowlf asked now very curious. “What’s the perfect recipe?”
Gonzo reached under his station and brought out his ingredients. “A cup of sugar, 2 cups of flour.”
Rowlf nodded. “Yeah, okay.” It didn’t seem anything special so far, but he wasn’t an expect baker, maybe the proportions would-
“Half a cup of baking soda.”
“Say what?”
A loud thud was heard as Gonzo placed a giant jug on his station. “A gallon of vanilla extract.”
Rowlf covered his hand over his mouth as he mulled over what was in front of him.
“Where exactly did you get this recipe?” he asked.
“The most reliable place for all kinds of information,” Gonzo said. “Tumblr.”
“You, uh, really sure you should trust that?”
Gonzo blinked puzzled. “Why? Do you think people would lie on the internet?”
Rowlf raised and lowered his hand. Nope, he didn’t think he had enough time today to explain that answer.
----------------------------------------------
Fozzie had been a bit concerned when he heard that Bunsen and Beaker were also competing. However, he didn’t see anything explosive looking so far, so he carefully approached their station.
“Hey, you two ready to RISE to the occasion. Hahaha,” he greeted as his ears wiggled.
“Indeed we are,” Bunsen said as Beaker was taking a loaf of bread out of the oven. “We at Muppet Labs believe we have concocted the optimal variant of jalapeño bread.”
“Meep!” Beaker said as he removed his oven mitts.
“Jalapeño bread, huh?” Fozzied asked. “Did you need something to spice things up? Huh, huh?”
“Not quite,” Bunsen as he seemed unfazed by the pun. “I don’t care much for sweets and jalapeño is one of Beaker’s favorites.”
“Meep meep!” replied Beaker.
“Speaking of which Beaker,” Bunsen said as he cut into the bread for a small piece. “We need to see if the chemical balance has enhanced the pepper's natural spiciness as hypothesized. Would you do a taste test?”
“Meep, meep,” said Beaker as he popped the piece of bread into his mouth.
He chewed, but then became still. Then suddenly his face turned red and literal flames shot out of his ears.
“MEEP!” he cried out as he dashed to the fridge in the tent. He knocked over Rizzo as he opened the fridge and chugged down a full carton of milk. A low sizzle could be heard as the flames faded to smoke.
Beaker took a long deep sigh of relief.
“Ah,” Fozzie said as he approached. “I guess that bread was too hot to handle, huh?”
Beaker shook his head as he gave a thumbs up.
“Beakie really likes things spicy,” Bunsen explained with a grin.
From a short distance away, Scooter turned his camera around toward Uncle Deadly and the Swedish Chef who both looked very dismayed.
“I'm nut trying zeet,” said the Swedish Chef. “Nu vey.”
“I do concur,” Uncle Deadly stated. “Perhaps I should give one of my enemies a ring...”
---------------------------------------------
“Alright, judging time,” Scooter shouted as he aimed the camera at both Fozzie and Rowlf. “Think everyone is ready for this?”
“Well, I don’t want to sugarcoat it, but I think they’re on a roll!” Fozzie cheered.
“And it looks like Rizzo is up first,” Rowlf stated as he pointed.
Scooter moved the camera so the little rat was in the frame as he carried a giant covered plate over his head.
“All right judges,” he said with a grunt as he placed it in front of the Swedish Chef and Uncle Deadly. “Feast your eyes on this!” He put his hand on the lid. “My Uncle Remy’s famous triple chocolate fudge brownies!”
He lifted the lid.
The judges stared at the plate, then at each other and then again at the plate.
“Zee-a plete-a is impty,” the Swedish Chef said.
“Yes,” Uncle Deadly said as he pointed. “Like the kingdom of Ozymandias, nothing here remains, save chocolate brownie crumbs.”
Rizzo shrugged. “What? I had to taste test it, didn’t I?”
“I’m amazed there even are crumbs left,” Rowlf replied.
--------------------------------------
Uncle Deadly took a nibble on his fork and gave a thoughtful nod. “I will say, Pepe, while your cake is a bit messy it does have a nice coffee flavor, and the nuts elevate the texture.”
The king prawn chuckled proudly. “Hey, it’s only natural. Baking runs in the family, okay? And-”
“No, no, no,” yelled the Swedish Chef and he shook his head. “Der iceenen is too roonynyen und yoo deedn't pooten een enoofen soogar. Elsoo der caken is soo goomgoomee, yoo cooden be cooled keeng oov der peeraten -”
“Okay, okay,” Pepe cried with a growl. “Why don’t you just stab my heart while you’re at it!”
“Yeesh,” Fozzie muttered to Rowl. “Third time in a row, did you ever imagine that Uncle Deadly would be the nice judge? This feels like my last comedy routine with those hecklers.”
“I would,” Rowlf replied with a sigh. “You weren’t at the last pot luck.”
-------------------------------------------
Uncle Deadly barely looked at the cake before staring straight into Gonzo’s face. “I refuse to eat this.”
“Seem heeren,” declared the Swedish Chef. “I radeneer eet Kermeet's pie.”
“Oh, come on, guys,” Gonzo said as he gestured to his very flat looking cake. “I used all natural ingridents.”
“Yes, and I can tell you from personal experience that many poisons are natural,” Uncle Deadly said. “This cake looks so gummy it seems closer to rubber.”
“I doont dinkendink ve cannen cooten dees,” the Swedish Chef said as he poked at the cake.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gonzo said as he got out the knife, swinging it in the air above his cake. “Look you can just chop right through it - arrgh!”
The knife came down, and abruptly bounced back up. Gonzo rebounded with it, tearing through the tent and into the air. Scooter did his best to get the tiny dot that was now Gonzo caught on camera before he started to plummet in the distance. A loud thud was heard outside the tent.
“Oh, my gosh,” Fozzie said as everyone went to look out the tent “Do you think he’s okay?”
Suddenly, the melody of The Rainbow Connection started to play.
“Sorry, that's my phone,” Kermit said as he quickly answered. “Kermit the Frog here. You're sure? You’re where? Right, uh, I'll send Beauregard to pick you up.”
“Was that Gonzo?” Rizzo asked.
“Yeah, he says he’s okay,” Kermit shook his head. “He said he landed in the strategic banana reserve.”
“Why do we have that?” Miss Piggy asked.
Fozzie opened his mouth.
“Fozzie, if you say ‘because it’s a-peeling’ I will shove Kermit’s pie in your face.”
Fozzie shut his mouth.
Scooter swung his camera back to face into the tent where Uncle Deadly and the Swedish Chef were still examining Gonzo’s cake.
“I would suggest throwing it out,” Uncle Deadly said, “but I’m afraid it will bounce back for vengeance.”
-----------------------------------
“Alright, alright, everyone step back,” Bobo said as the fire fighters continued to douse the flames. “Everything’s under control.”
Scooter directed the camera back to the burning tent.
“At least the flames aren’t as high now,” he said before spinning the camera back to the muppets.
“I swear, if any of my hair got scorched, the tent won’t be the only thing on fire,” Miss Piggy muttered as she checked her compact mirror.
“In hindsight,” Uncle Deadly stated, “we should have predicted this would be the outcome when we introduced the technical challenge.”
“Yeah,” Fozzie said, “things got really heated up.”
Several groans were heard.
Scooter pointed the camera at Kermit. “So, is this the end of the contest?”
“Yeah, I don’t think we can use any of this,” said Kermit. “Stop filming, Scooter.”
Scooter turned the camera to himself.
“Happy Holidays!” he said as he cut the recording.
