Dancing Through Life
by Kim McFarland

Dancing through life,
Mindless and careless.
Make sure you're where less
Trouble is rife.
Woes are fleeting,
Blows are glancing,
When you're dancing
Through life.

- Dancing through Life from the musical Wicked

Note: This takes place in The World In Which Kermit Had Never Been Born, seen in It's a very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie. Without Kermit's influence, many lives were changed, and not for the better.

It was early morning, or late night, depending on how you looked at it. The loud, thumping techno music in Club Dot had been turned off. Skeeter's ears were still ringing, and her head felt like it was wrapped in cotton.

She was mopping the floor. She was fortunate to be doing that; lately she had been no good as a cage dancer. She could have been fired. Simple demotion was a relief.

"Gonna be long, Skeet?"

She looked up to see her brother Scooter. "A bit. It was kinda messy tonight. We got a date?"

"Yeah. It's The Bluebird of Happiness."

She nodded. She ought to be glad. She wasn't. She looked down at the floor she was mopping. A lot of drinks had been spilled.

"C'mon, cheer up, Skeet. I know what would make you happy," he said with a teasing smile.

"No," she said. "I want to keep my head."

"What for?" Scooter asked, but dropped the matter and left.

When he came back a few minutes later, he told her, "He'll wait." Then he found another mop and pitched in.

She smiled. Scooter didn't like cleanup work, and he wasn't very good at it besides, but he always watched out for her. She didn't suggest he go on without her; she knew he'd refuse.

When they finished up, Scooter told her, "I don't like seeing you like this, Sis."

"That makes two of us."

"So why?"

"I don't know," she murmured. Life was so much easier when you medicated your moods. Happiness came in small packages. Nothing mattered much, and fun things were that much better. There wasn't any point in seeing the world as it really was. Maybe. She didn't know anymore.

She went into the back to change from her black tank top and skirt to a black dress. She and her twin had been on their own since they were practically kids. They'd taken to this lifestyle because it was fun. Party all night, finance it using the one resource that cost them nothing and couldn't be taken away from them. Because they were half-humans, full-sized people saw them as childlike. That and the twin appeal won them a lot of attention. But it was getting old, she thought as she tied her hair back into pigtails with a pair of green ribbons.

She looked at her reflection. The gothic Lolita look was in now. It contrasted weirdly with her brother's tight shirt and shorts, but the dates liked it. She honestly didn't care.

When Skeeter came back out she was practically dragging her handbag. Scooter said, "I hate to see you like this."

"I'll be all right."

"Yeah. Don't worry, leave everything to me," he said brightly, and put an arm around her shoulders.

They left the club. Among the people loitering outside was a bird. The humans hardly noticed him, but he was right on Scooter and Skeeter's eye level. The twins walked over. Scooter said, "Sorry it took so long, Sammie. Thanks for waiting for us."

Not at all," the bird replied. Seeing how down Skeeter looked, he said, "Are you all right, my dear?"

"I'm okay," she said with the best smile she could muster.

Sammie hailed a cab. The three got into the back, and Sammie gave his address to the driver. He sat on one side and Skeeter on the other, with Scooter in between. Scooter moved close enough to Sammie to rest his head on his shoulder. The bird put a wing around him. Scooter put his free arm around the bird's waist. He was still holding Skeeter's hand with the other.

They entered Sammie's apartment. Scooter and Skeeter knew it well; lately they had been spending a night or two a week here. Skeeter said, "Mind if I freshen up?"

"Not at all."

Skeeter retreated to the bathroom for a few minutes to nerve herself. Scooter said confidentially to Sammie, "She's just tired. They've been working her pretty hard."

"I didn't see her in a cage tonight," Sammie answered.

"Yeah, they were letting some new girls try it out. She got stuck on cleanup crew. They work her like Cinderella."

"How sad."

"Yeah."

Skeeter returned. Scooter asked, "Are you all right now, Sis?"

As he asked her, his eyes flicked right-left: no. She replied, "I'm fine," in an utterly unconvincing tone of voice.

"You look like you need to rest tonight," Sammie told her gently.

Scooter glanced up-down. She smiled and said, "I guess so. I'm sorry."

"We all have our crosses to bear," the bird said sympathetically.

Scooter said, "She's tired, but I'm not," with an eager gleam in his eye.

"Why don't you lie down on the couch and get some sleep, my dear?"

Her smile was a little less forced. "Thanks. I appreciate it. It really has been a bad day."

"Tomorrow'll be better," Scooter chirped.

She lay down on the couch. Her dress would be a mess of wrinkles tomorrow, but she didn't particularly care. Scooter went into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and set it on a coaster on the coffee table. He untied the ribbons in her hair—she'd forgotten they were there—and said, "G'night, Skeet."

"'Night, Scoot."

Scooter and Sammie went away. In the darkened living room Skeeter felt suddenly alone. Her ears were still buzzing from the loud music in the club.

She ought to be happy, she thought. It was always good news when Sammie picked them up. He treated them well rather than using them and throwing them away. He gave them a safe place for the night, paid without cheating, and even fed them, and compared to some of their other dates he didn't ask for much at all. He was fond of them, even cared about them, she thought. Why? Of course Scooter liked him; he was a sugar daddy. Normally Skeeter did too. Today she didn't like anyone. Not even herself.

She wanted an apartment. A place for just her and her brother, where they could be safe and alone, not at the mercy of whatever date they had for the night. Where they could just rest and not worry about someone else's demands. But places to live cost money, and around here there was nothing within their reach, even considering their freelance work. No home for them; just other peoples' pads, for a few hours at a time.

She was a fool, she realized. Scooter was right. He knew how to get through life. He lived in the Happy World. He liked what he did to make a living. It was fun. Isn't that how life is supposed to be? When she was in the Happy World she felt the same way. Bad things still happened, but they didn't matter so much.

He'd given her a glass of water. He always looked after her, she thought. He understood what she needed better than she did. She opened her purse. There, in her makeup kit, was a lipstick tube with a false bottom. She unscrewed it. Inside were several tablets. She selected an orange one and glanced at the design stamped into it. It looked like a roman numeral II. Gemini. How appropriate, she thought as she dropped in onto her tongue, then took a swallow of water.

She lay down again and closed her eyes, knowing that when she woke up the world would be a better place.

All characters are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC and are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Dancing through Life is from the musical Wicked by Stephen Schwartz. The overall story is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.