One of the amazing things about the Muppet Theater was how it always bustled with life. Most studios were full of activity, yes, but in time, every performer got fatigued. Take Smallville, for instance. At a certain point, after so much writing, performing, filming, blocking, gripping, and best-boying, there was an instinct to throw up one's hands and just get the day's work done. This happened in Smallville's tenth episode. The rest was more or less an insurance scam.
But with the Muppets, things were different. Every show was an event in and of itself. There was always a new musical guest, a new skit, a new host, even new Muppets from the vast Muppet community. Tonight was no exception. Tonight, tickets were half-off, as Kermit and his closest friends were off to Avengers Tower in the Electric Mayhem Bus, after reassuring the Avengers security team that it had nothing to do with the short-lived supervillain groupie team Electro's Mayhem.
Scooter was aghast at the prospect of doing the night's show with only the Muppets' 'B-team.' The last time Kermit hadn't hosted, they'd had to get the frog from Frog Fractions as a replacement. He'd started out fine, but after a few minutes…
"But why are you all going to see the Avengers?" he demanded.
"It's a plot point, Scooter," Kermit told him. "Didn't you read the summary?"
"I came here from tumblr. All I saw was an excerpt."
"Just try to go with it," Kermit assured him. "It's best not to think too much about things. Remember when Christopher Nolan was our guest director?"
"I do," Skeeter said. Then he continued, more dubiously. "Or… do I?"
"You'll do fine," Kermit assured him, more assuringly. "Who's the guest host?"
"Well, Lana Parrilla is here to demonstrate some yoga moves, but I suppose she could co-host with Jaime Murray, who is just staying here until ratings improve for Defiance. I think SyFy has her on a hunger strike."
Jaime Murray, who was sitting nearby, looked up from her phone. "Actually, we've discontinued the online game in favor of a Cooking Mama-type thing. I'll be eating the most popular dish prepared by the fans." Her phone dinged. She looked at it. "Oysters again?"
"See what you can do with them as co-hosts," Kermit told Skeeter. "I have to get going. And don't worry—if all else fails, I think the Star Wars Muppets will come out of retirement."
"Bring back Star Wars?" Skeeter cried. "Who'd be stupid enough to do that?"
They traveled by montage, accompanied by a Dr. Teeth song so catchy, inspiring, and lacking in Autotune that it couldn't possibly be reproduced in a textual medium. Just imagine the opposite of a Black-Eyed Peas song.
The Tower was easy to find. There was a superhero walking out of it.
"Spider-Man," Kermit called, "what're you doing here?"
"Brief cameo. You?"
"Crossover."
"You're not having sex with Dean Winchester, right?"
"What?"
"Forget it. Guy's a crier anyway. I gotta go." Shooting a web, he swung off.
"I bet he sees a lot of cute kittens, spending so much time on the web." Fozzie blew an airhorn. "Wokka wokka!"
Inside, Pepper Potts was waiting for them. She was standing in front of a hole in the wall, trying to cover up the damage from the last supervillain attack. This didn't work ,because the supervillain who'd made the hole was still sticking out of it.
"Hello everyone, welcome to the Stark Industries' Avengers facility. Given the monumental occasion of your visit, I thought I should be on hand to greet you."
"How big a deal could an Avengers movie be?" Gonzo wondered.
"We already have fans camping out," Pepper replied smartly.
"To watch the movie?"
"No, to hear the reviews."
Kermit made an anxious face. "We'll try not to let you down," he said in a muffled voice.
"I'm sure you won't. Now, if you could all sign the standard Marvel Movie contract. It's a lot like your old Rich and Famous contract, but without the 'Rich' part. You'll also need to make cameos in some other movies. Guardians of the Galaxy, Captain America 2, the all-female remake of Free Willy, and of course, Saw 9: Saw 'N Sniff."
"Do you really need all those cameos?" Kermit asked.
"DC Comics doesn't do them and we do the opposite of everything they do." She shrugged. "It's worked pretty well so far."
"It's just that the Muppets don't believe in basing a franchise on a bunch of cameos," Gonzo explained. "You also need chickens."
Pepper moved briskly on. "All the Avengers have very busy schedules, but they've agreed to let you shadow them while they work, so you can get a feel for their characters. Now, who's playing who?"
Kermit the Frog is Iron Man!
Kermit pondered the term 'house-warming party,' as he wandered through the penthouse apartment that Tony Stark had taken to after the destruction of his mansion. It was a party, alright, but it didn't seem to have much to do with warming anything. It actually seemed more of a house-destroying party, considering the wall that Tony had demolished to make room for drinks to flow from the kitchen to the infinity pool.
"To play me," Tony was saying, leading Kermit around the party so fast that the little frog practically had to do parkour to get in between the milling guests. "You have to get inside me. Really see the inner me. All the heroism, all the emotions, all the science… that's crap. What you need to know is that I can mix a vodka sunrise with just my big toes. Watch!"
"That's nice," Kermit tried to say, though Tony already had his shoes off. "But I'm a little concerned with the artistic integrity of…"
"Where's the grenadine?" Tony cried. "You can't have a vodka sunrise without grenadine; it's right there in the name."
"That's vodka," Kermit pointed out.
"Do I have vodka? I always have vodka. Back to the grenadine and thanks for distracting me. Here, someone—" Tony snapped his fingers. "Does anyone here have a lower back tattoo?" Hands raised. He waved over the closest.
"I don't technically have one yet," the blonde said, approaching. "But I was thinking of the Asian word for 'spirit.' Asians have such a rich culture…"
Tony pointed at Kermit. "Give this frog a lap dance. He's making my big toes cramp up."
"Sure thing. C'mere, sugar." The blonde pushed Kermit down onto an easy chair that doubled as modern art. "Awww, you're such a cute toad…"
"I haven't felt this uncomfortable since I met Elmo," Kermit muttered.
A few minutes later, Tony raised a tumbler in triumph. "The real trick is the crazy straw," he insisted. "Hey, where'd my frog get off to? He didn't pee on anyone's hand, did he?"
Laughing at his own joke, he missed seeing Kermit wedged behind the easy chair's seat cushion.
"Good grief."
Fozzie Bear IS Captain America!
Captain America missed the meeting, having overheard a high school student making a comment disparaging voters and so needed to take a minute to lecture him on the importance of the democratic process. Then he pinballed his shield around a few times for the crowd that had gathered. ("Thanks, Cap!" the kids waved as he drove off.)
Remembering, with a shudder, that he was back in the propaganda business, Steve tapped his motorcycle helmet to activate his Bluetooth. "Call Tony, please," he told it, slipping his bike into the right lane to slow down and concentrate on the call.
Tony had, perhaps inevitably, ended up as team mom, as frustrated with Clint's stray arrows and Natasha's surprisingly laissez-faire approach to laundry duty as Pepper and Rhodey had ever been with him. Steve knew he'd be extra-sarcastic over his get-richer-quick scheme being messed up.
"Tell me you didn't blow off the Muppets," Tony answered. "How could you not want to meet the Muppets? They didn't bring Elmo, I checked."
Hello to you too, Steve thought. "You know I didn't grow up with the Muppets? I was more of a Merrie Melodies guy."
"It makes me fear for national security when you say things like that. Look, man, I'm with Kermit the Frog, right now. We're going to get party favors. We ran out."
"…these party favors wouldn't happen to be recreational narcotics, by any chance?"
"No chance."
"Can I hear that from Kermit?"
"No, he's driving."
"His arms work?"
Behind Steve, a car honked at him before passing on the right. Steve resolutely kept going at five miles under the speed limit.
And Tony had overheard. "Are you driving like an old lady again?"
"I'm driving like an old man."
"You can crotch-shot a fly at a hundred paces with that shield, but you don't trust yourself to talk and drive at the same time? Multi-tasking, Rogers. How did the Greatest Generation not starve to death of an inability to eat sandwiches and watch TV at the same time?"
Steve watched his speedometer. It crept up a single MPH. He scowled. Tony was getting to him. "So, what is a Muppet, anyway?"
"Well, it's not quite a puppet and it's not quite a mop…" Tony paused meaningfully. "What, nuthin'?"
"Nothing," Steve confirmed.
"It's a Simpsons quote. I told you to watch the Simpsons, remember? That and Community, you're covered as far as pop culture goes."
"I have been watching The Simpsons. Last night they met something called a Lady Gaga?"
"No, no, not the new ones, the old ones, I told you—" Steve thought he could hear the bridge of Tony's nose compressing between his fingers. "Your Muppet wandered off to a comedy club. I'm sending the address to your GPS," Tony said lamely.
"I'll check it as soon as I pull over."
Tony hung up.
Miss Piggy IS the Black Widow!
Unlike the other Avengers, Natasha had the night off. Still, she'd decided to get her interview with Miss Piggy over with. It wasn't like she could bring a pig along with her to infiltrate a Zionist terror group. Wouldn't be kosher.
At least it would be a quiet evening. She'd just changed into the silk lounging robe that the Shah of Iran had given her before he'd realized she was a spy, when Pepper showed Miss Piggy in. Instantly, Natasha had a felt hand in her face. She wasn't sure whether to kiss it or get a lint brush.
"Boize moi, mon ami, how exquisite to meet another strong, modern woman!" Miss Piggy said in a sugary voice. Natasha got the idea to shake her hand. "So sorry I couldn't help with your little Chitauri problem, but it was fashion week in Milan. If I didn't get my wardrobe up to date, the whole year would've simply been a write-off."
"We managed," the Black Widow said neutrally. "So what exactly can I help you with?"
"Oooh, just a few teeny-weeny details to get your character fixed in my head so I can improve it. Are you a summer or a winter? Do you prefer kung fu or wushu? What's a better between-meals snack, five pounds of pizza or five pounds of ice cream?"
"Wushu," Natasha said, and tilted her head to the side. "I hadn't really thought of the rest. I wish I still hadn't."
"Oh, but I'm being rude. If we're going to bond," Miss Piggy flipped her hair back as she said it, "we should do it over dinner. Perhaps you have some French cuisine on hand for le preparation?"
"I'm on a macrobiotic diet," Natasha replied. "The catsuits look good, but they're murder."
"Then I suppose we could always order in."
"No, I'm only eating liquids for the rest of the day…"
Miss Piggy grabbed Natasha by her lapels and jerked her head down so they were eye to eye. "There's a Chinese place two blocks from here," she said gruffly.
Natasha nodded quickly.
The Great Gonzo IS the Mighty Thor! (and also Rizzo is there)
In a burst of magic and science, Thor returned home with Gonzo and Rizzo. He led them off the Bifrost and onto the Rainbow Road. "Behold Asgard!" he cried, raising Mjolnir. In the distance of space, the city gleamed, spires towering to the point of absurdity and glistening with the precious metals that bejeweled them. Lights shone in a thousand windows, colossal bonfires that burned in all the colors of the rainbow.
After a few moments, Rizzo spoke. "I don't…" Thor eyed him. "I don't wanna get in the way of all the awe and mystery, but where would the toilet be?"
Heimdall eyed him. "The toilet?"
"The little rats' room?" Rizzo tried. "The porcelain throne. Thomas Crapper's workshop."
"You know, the place you go to read," Gonzo suggested.
"Ah yes," Thor realized, "the vainglorious abyss. I'm sorry to say that all of Asgard's most comfortable seats have fallen fallow, slaved to the once-mighty sewers of the Realm Eternal."
"Then where do you go to go?"
"Over the side," Heimdall said gently. "There are benefits to living on a city floating in space."
"That is DISGUSTING," Rizzo enunciated with all his strength.
"The movie can wait," Gonzo agreed. "We're unclogging these toilets!"
Sam the Eagle IS Hawkeye
"Oh, I get it," Clint said. "Because I'm a bird. Caw caw, mother trucker. You know, it's not even a theme with me? It's just a nickname for me being really good at shooting arrows. Don't you have a Robin Hood Muppet I could hang around with?"
"I am none too happy with this either," Sam uttered, strutting around Clint's lackadaisical SHIELD-issue apartment. Aside from the quivers not-so-cleverly concealed in flower vases, it was just carnival posters and a home theater system. In Sam's opinion, it definitely could've used a few framed pictures of the US Senate. He had two hundred and thirteen. "I would prefer an Avenger who better exemplifies the American way!"
"You mean the Hulk?" Clint returned sarcastically.
Sam leapt up onto the kitchen island, the better to strut about on like Patton giving a speech. "This is what's wrong with superheroes today. No respect for community! A proper superhero would spend his time volunteering at a homeless shelter, or guarding a Garth Brooks concert! Not wallowing in moral decay, gazing lasciviously at unmarried supervillainesses, and listening to Justin Bieber music."
"Hey!" Clint piped up. "I hate Justin Bieber music. I had to stop listening to 96.7, Pop's Finest FM, because they wouldn't stop playing that God-awful power song."
"Well then, you must watch reality television!"
"Not me, I hate the stuff. Ever since Netflix Instant got Magnum PI, I pretty much gave up on primetime television."
Sam crouched toward him like Batman. "And… Fifty Shades of Gray?"
"Not gonna read it, not gonna be friends with people who do."
Sam bowed respectfully. "I'm so glad to find someone who hates things too."
Animal IS the Incredible Hulk!
Bruce had waited two hours while Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem practiced, always needing to do one more song. He had been tolerantly pleased for the first few minutes—Tony had been insistent that Pepper had been insistent that he get out of the lab and, heck, what was further from a stuffy old science lab than the Muppets? And the Electric Mayhem, at that, whose songs Tony had lost his virginity to—or some sort of virginity, at least. Bruce didn't know which and didn't want to know.
But now, he'd been listening to a laser show minus the lasers for two hours, and he didn't see how anyone could think that was more important than his fungus experiments. Calm down, he reminded himself. He was always frustrated, after all. There were lots of frustrating things in the world. Movie reboots. The McRib not being a permanent item on the McDonalds menu. The X-Box One. This wasn't any worse than any of those.
"Can we get started soon?" he asked during a lull in the playing, when it was just a tiny guitar solo. If that irritated them, fine.
"No, man!" Floyd cried. "You gotta get into the funk-space if you want to be a Muppet."
"I'm not going to be a Muppet," Bruce said, feeling as if he'd had this conversation several times already, even though it was the first time he'd been called a Muppet. "That… drummer thing is going to play me. I thought it was supposed to be capturing my je ne sais quoi."
"Whoa…" Dr. Teeth said. "Hey now, I don't know what you're into, but we're not that kinda band. Maybe you should go to a Miley Cyrus concert."
"I mean an accurate portrayal of me."
"Oh, yeah, for sure man." Janice pointed up to Animal's drum set. "He's got you, like, dead on."
Animal went into a drum solo that could've been at a Rush show. "HULK SMASH! HULK SMASH!"
"I don't say that. It's like 'Beam me up, Scotty' or 'Play it again, Sam.' Just because popular culture has it engrained in their memory, doesn't mean I—"
"PUNY DRUMS!" Animal banged some cymbals.
Bruce bit his hand, something he hadn't done since finals at MIT. "You guys know I'm a scientist, right? A man of science? Why can't I be Dr. Bunsen Honeydew? I'd settle for Beaker."
The Electric Mayhem lost interest in him. With a flourish, Dr. Teeth began playing the intro to We Found Love on his keyboard.
Bruce wasn't finished. "Stop!" he insisted. "I've listened to The Rainbow Connection three times, but I draw the line at Rihanna!"
"Like, what could anyone have against Rihanna, man?" Janice asked.
"Nothing! Not personally! It's just so frustrating how she gets into this thing with Chris Brown, and then it just… goes supernova! She starts actually fighting over him with this Korean woman, who she of course insults racially, just so this whole thing is sleazy from every angle, then they get back together, and meanwhile, we just keep printing magazines with them on the cover and making blog posts about them, and I don't know what we're supposed to do, but not this, right? It's like this whole dumb celebrity culture is enabling a twenty-five-year-old woman to destroy herself so, what, she can get a cover on Glee? It's like Amy Winehouse all over again!"
The band had lost interest. They were playing What's My Name?
"Alright, that song? It is just irritating."
"Like, relax, okay dude?" Janice flipped her hair. "She's not even with that guy anymore. She's dating Justin Bieber."
"Justin… Bieber?" Bruce started to turn green. "What is wrong with this chick?"
"And stay out!" Louis C.K. said, throwing Fozzie from the comedy club.
Luckily for Fozzie, his fur cushioned the fall. "I thought the audience liked my jokes! They thought I was so funny, it was scary!"
"They were booing! The bartender is giving out free vodka shots, just so people can forget your knock-knock jokes."
"Okay, maybe my energy is wrong for modern stand-up. I could be more of a podcast bear." Fozzie sprang back up. "Hey, how about a guest spot on your show? How's this: 'Louie tries to clean his fish tank. Realizes he lost a Redbox disc in the gravel months ago. Listens to Fozzie Bear explain the differences between horses and zebras for five minutes.'"
Louis C.K. slammed the door to the club.
"Horses make good hay-bors!" Fozzie cried after him. "But zebras take everything in stripe!"
"Are you Fozzie the Bear?" Steve asked, his motorcycle parked.
"You are correct, sir!" Fozzie called. "You can tell by all the fur. I didn't like it at first, but it grew on me."
Steve was silent a moment. Then, he pointed a finger at the bear. "You, my friend, are gosh-darn hilarious!"
Deep in the bowels, funnily enough, of Asgard, Gonzo, Rizzo, and Thor continued their quest to free the gods from the indignity of urinating in public like a dog or Andy Dick. The sewer tunnel they were in was another triumph of form over function. Like a two-story fruit blender or a Michael Bay movie, it was almost too big to do its job. The smell was also horrid, but you don't want to hear about that.
"Behold!" Thor boasted, using Mjolnir as a pointer. "The Pipes of Elysium, whose drains cannot be plugged even by the mighty mane of Baldur himself!"
"The Drano of the Gods," Gonzo said in wonder.
"Is there a Bench of the Gods coming up?" Rizzo added. "My knees are getting tired."
"Don't you mean your feet?"
"I don't know, I can't feel those."
"Behold again!" Thor cried, pointing Mjolnir straight ahead. "The first of the guardians we must triumph over!"
Ahead, the tunnel swelled into a rotunda, with five tunnels branching off in various directions. Hanging on a perch in the middle of the room were two oversized tropical birds. Their eyes opened at Thor's booming approach: first the left eyes, then the right.
"The wings of knowledge!" Thor said, aghast. "One ever speaks the truth. The other only lies. None but the truth-teller knows the path we must take!"
"Yes I do!" both said.
"So all we gotta do is catch one in a lie!" Rizzo realized.
"Aye," Thor said. "Our words must beguile them."
"I've got it!" Gonzo's entire body tilted back in triumph. "Birds, why hasn't there been a Wonder Woman movie yet?"
"The character is extremely complicated and hard to realize cinematically," the bird on the left said.
"DC Comics hates women!" said the one on the right.
"And how come there are about five Robins in the DC universe, but only one Batgirl?"
"You have Red Robin!" Rizzo pointed out. "There's so many Robins you're color-coding them!"
Said Lefty: "Having multiple Batgirls would be confusing for readers. After all, one's an Asian that communicates through body language, one's a blonde, and one is Barbara Gordon, a strong, nuanced, iconic female character… who was turned back into Batgirl."
Said Righty: "DC Comics hates women."
"They are so tricky!" Gonzo exclaimed. "How can we tell which is telling the truth?"
"I think I may know a way," Thor said with confidence. He stepped up to the birds. "Which one of you wants to see me take my shirt off?"
"I don't!" said Lefty.
"I do," said Righty.
Thor pointed right. "This one speaks the truth."
Thor and Rizzo moved on, but Gonzo lingered, stroking his nose thoughtfully.
"Is Shailene Woodsley a good choice to play Mary Jane Watson?" he asked at last.
"Of course!" Lefty insisted. "Shailene Woodley is a beautiful, talented young actress who is absolutely believable as a supermodel and iconic dream girl. She looks every bit the same age as Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone, and let me tell you, you don't get on ABC Family without knowing a little something about acting."
"No," said Righty.
Gonzo looked between them and sighed. "Still can't tell…"
"You're absolutely right," Natasha said, sipping her wine. It went surprisingly well with sesame chicken. "What good does it do to shut myself in my room all day, field-stripping rifles? I don't even like guns. I wanted a crossbow theme. I need to unwind."
"That's all I'm saying," Miss Piggy comforted. "Now shut up. Channing Tatum is talking."
They focused on the big-screen TV playing The Vow. When he finished his lines, Natasha spoke.
"Sure, I can kill a man seven different ways with my pinky, but sometimes I'd just like that man to say my hair looks nice."
"That is what I am saying, sweetums. Come to my fashion show in Paris. There'll be plenty of men who'll think your hair looks nice and you'll only kill them if you want to." Miss Piggy sized her up for a runway. "Do you like pastels?"
Natasha gave her a dead stare. "I fucking love pastels." She swished her wine. "I never even wanted to be the Black Widow. I was going to be the Pink Widow, but some guy in San Francisco—"
"Shh," Miss Piggy shushed, "C-Tates's talking to Rachel McAdams again."
"Kneel!" a voice came.
Miss Piggy fanned herself. "Finally, they're making these things a little spicy."
"I said, kneel!" The TV exploded along with the wall. Loki stood in the hole.
"Loki!" Natasha cried.
"No, that was anything but low-key," Miss Piggy replied.
"Yes, it is I, you cringing miltestre!" He looked into their uncomprehending stares. "It means 'hooker'. I escaped my prison through the toilet. It shall be months before my adopted lummoxes discover I'm missing. I will catch them unawares with—" He caught sight of Miss Piggy. "Well. Who is this delectable sweetmeat?"
"That better not be a ham joke, Buster!"
"Ah, now I recognize you from the papers. You either said unflattering things about the Moors while selling butter or… you're Miss Piggy, yes?"
"That's right, tall, dark, and no conditioner—don't you forget it!"
"Of course not," Loki said slyly. "How could I forget the name of… my bride!?"
"Wha-buh?"
"The bride of Loki!" he brayed.
Natasha drank some more. There wasn't much else she could do and it was good wine. "We got that part."
"After my oafish brother took Asgard from me, I decided to repay him in kind by taking his beloved Earth for my own. But now, I realize he cares not for his birthright. His heart truly lies with his sow of a mortal woman, Jane Foster. And so, I will take a bride of such material to put his to shame. And all Nine Realms will tremble before the marriage of our might."
"Nice monologue," Miss Piggy said.
"Thanks, I'm glad you appreciate it. No one takes the time to appreciate a good speech anymore."
Sneering, he leveled his staff at the two women. Miss Piggy was pulled across the floor with a crackle of energy. She slid to a stop at his feet.
Loki lowered his staff. "And now my prize and I must be going. But to thank you for bringing this beauty to my attention, you well-coiffed vixen, I spare you long enough to attend my wedding. Save the date, Avenger!" And in a flash of light, they were gone.
"Well-coiffed," Natasha said wonderingly as she pressed the team panic button.
"Have you ever noticed Muppets walk like this," Fozzie began, demonstrating, "and puppets walk like this?" He started jerking himself around, bobbing like his limbs were controlled by invisible strings.
Steve slapped his knee, laughing. "That is so true!"
The Avengers Team Trouble light started flashing. Steve remembered he was on monitor duty, then shrugged and switched the alarm off. It was probably Tony needing help finding his conditioner again.
"And what's the deal with airline peanuts?" Fozzie asked.
"I don't know!" Steve replied, giggling. "What is the deal with airline peanuts?"
"And now," Loki said, "we will be bound together in the most sacred and romantic of Asgardian ceremonies… the Matrimonial Erebus!"
"This looks like the set of The Dating Game," said Miss Piggy.
Loki nodded off-handedly. "I wouldn't be surprised. You Midgardians have appropriated several items of our superior culture. Longboats, hand-and-a-half swords, rap rock…" He gave Miss Piggy a little push toward the last stool.
The other two were inhabited by Darcy Lewis and Shailene Woodsley, who were bound and gagged. To Loki's credit, the manacles were very fashion-forward. He gestured magically, ungagging them and adding a chain to Miss Piggy's leg.
"And now, the three of you will court me." Loki gave Miss Piggy a quick 'the fix is in' look, then shrugged as if to say 'tradition'. "Bachelorette number one, what would you consider an appropriate dowry for your loving groom?"
Darcy looked around. "Uhh, I have some Microsoft Points left over from buying Retro City Rampage on my Xbox. You can have those?"
"Bachelorette number two, same question."
"Are we still making the Spider-Man movie? I thought we had enough villains without this man-pig guy…"
Miss Piggy fumed as Loki pressed on.
"Bachelorette number three?"
"Listen, Loki, you seem like a nice guy, considering this homeless person as your bride…"
"I'm a hipster!" Darcy cried loudly.
"—but I could never—"
"I'm a prince," Loki pointed out fast.
"—marry someone with that haircut."
"What haircut?" Loki asked.
"Exactly."
"Well, I suppose… for love…" Loki chanted the magic words. "Swiggity swear, I need a barber chair!"
One appeared. Miss Piggy hurried to it, not noticing the ball and chain she was easily dragging behind her.
Darcy raised her hand. "Excuse me? Before you get started on that, I think we should take a look at the elephant in the room. Thor's brother dude, you brought us all here because we're the most beautiful women in the world who won't ask for Angelina Jolie money."
Loki scoffed. "As if I even called her agent…"
"Well, isn't one of us a little out of place?"
Loki looked them over. "You're right." With a gesture, Darcy's chains disappeared. "Get out of here, fattie! Come back when you've made friends with a little lady named Jenny Craig!"
"You're adopted!" Darcy retorted, storming off.
Tony braked in front of the motel, the sudden deceleration hurtling Kermit from the recesses of the seat cushion. In a second, he was out of the car and strutting to room 326.
Kermit followed woozily. "Uh, Mr. Stark, I don't know how nice it was to lie to your friend about me driving. You would be surprised at how much a little deception can hurt."
"Oh, God, you're not going to sing a song about it, are you?"
"I'm not that sort of Muppet."
Tony knocked three times on the door to the motel room, then two times, then three times, then scratched his nails on the door.
The door opened. "I heard you the first time," Tony's friend said. He was a contemporary of Tony's, though it looked like the only tie he'd ever worn was the one painted on the fabric of his snuggie, along with the rest of James Bond's body. It made him look disturbingly like Daniel Craig now had dreadlocks and a face tattoo.
"Kermit, this is Trevor Kilpatrick, an old friend of mine from college. Trevor, I'm going to need enough drugs to make me think this frog can talk."
"I can talk," Kermit pointed out.
"Don't ruin my metaphors."
"Tony, I always have enough product for an old friend. It's all just a matter of transporting it. I think I have an empty jar of Cheese Balls around here someplace…"
"No meth!" Tony insisted as Trevor disappeared into the bowels of the apartment. "I watch Breaking Bad; way too conscientious about the way that stuff is made. Just marijuana and organically grown cough syrup for me."
"And that guy's your old friend?" Kermit asked, pointing after Trevor.
"Oh yeah, we were roommates in college, until I reported him for cheating answers off me. I suppose that did a number on his life, but he seems to be doing alright for himself. Shame, too. He was a real smart guy."
"A genius, almost?" Kermit asked suspiciously.
"Well, I like to reserve that word for me and whoever came up with Teen Wolf, because that show, I swear..."
"Mr. Stark, hasn't it occurred to you that he may be a supervillain?"
"A supervillain? Somebody that I know personally, just because he may feel a little resentful towards me and be a semi-genius? Come on. That's…" Tony nodded. "Okay, that does sound about right."
Trevor came back, bearing a Cheese Balls jar full of drugs.
"Yup, that oughta get me through the night." Tony busied himself with his wallet. "Hey, Trev, silly question, but you wouldn't happen to blame me for ruining your life or anything? Maybe have some elaborate scheme to ruin me personally and professionally before killing me in a giant death trap or something?"
"No! Course not!" Trevor laughed. "No, no, that would be—" He ripped off his snuggie to reveal more felt than a Build-A-Bear Workshop. "MUPPETS ARE THE ULTIMATE SURVIVORS OF THE ANIMAL KINGDOM, THE ONLY CREATURES BESIDES COCKROACHES THAT COULD SURVIVE A NUCLEAR WAR! BY SPLICING THEIR DNA WITH MINE, I HAVE BECOME MORE THAN MAN OR MUPPET! I AM THE MUPPETDARIN, TONY!"
But, just as he advanced on them, a giant green form smashed through the ceiling, landed directly on him, and leapt away again. "HULK SMASH PUNY BIEBER!"
Tony and Kermit stood there a moment, mouths agape.
"I had no idea us Muppets looked so disturbing when realistically proportioned."
Tony slapped his forehead. "He couldn't have handed me the drugs first…"
"And you're sure this is… fashionable?" Loki asked, patting his new hairstyle.
"Trust me!" Miss Piggy enthused. "This look is so chic, if this were the 90s, it'd be Jennifer Aniston!"
"It's almost too trendy," Shailene Woodsley agreed. "But it doesn't have zombies tacked on, so—"
"Just trendy enough," Miss Piggy finished for her.
"Excellent." Loki ran his fingers through his hair one more time. "And now, for the final test, my potential brides." He held up two horse costumes. "I'm going to need you to put these on."
"Finally," Shailene Woodsley said.
Suddenly, the stenciled flowers that covered the back wall exploded outward to reveal the Mighty Thor, the Great Gonzo, and Rizzo the Rat, who suddenly realized he could use a better title. Darcy, who they'd rescued from the green room, popped out from behind them. "That's him!" she said unnecessarily. "The guy who kidnapped me! It was awful. He never sprang for crazy bread to go with the pizza, the bed was not Egyptian cotton, I'm sorry, that cotton must've been from Des Moines or somewhere, and the cunnilingus was horrible!"
"You've gone too far this time!" Thor cried, hoisting Mjolnir. "It matters not what strange alien race you've allied yourself to this time—"
"I'm human!" Shailene Woodsley protested. "On my mother's side…"
"You will be brought to justice!"
Loki scoffed. "You have no idea what you're meddling in, brother, as usual! I have made eldritch dealings in the heart of abomination universes, such that you—"
"Wait, what's with your hair?" Gonzo asked.
"My hair?"
"I like it!"
Thor nodded. "Yes, it doth resemble the young bard, well-loved by all Midgard, whose verse enchants comely lass after comely lass."
"Yeah," Rizzo piped up. "He looks like—"
"Enough!" Loki cried. "My salon-quality hair is not of import! All that matters is that my master plan is already in motion. Even your arrival here and my highly-probable capture, are mere facets of my diabolical scheme! It would take some bald-faced coincidence of ridiculous proportions for my plan to even begin to unravel, and I have accounted for every—"
Hulk burst through the ceiling. Hulk saw Loki. Hulk saw Loki's hair.
"BIEBEEERRR!"
Hulk grabbed Loki by the arm and swung him around so fast that if anyone with a mullet had been around they would've started rooting for their favorite NASCAR driver. Then Hulk slammed Loki down repeatedly, shouting "AND HULK LIKE BABY," smash, "BABY," smash, "BABY," smash, "OH!"
"Wait a second," Gonzo paused, "what's the Hulk doing in Asgard?"
"Hulk not in Asgard. Hulk in New Jersey."
"Asgard's toilets lead to New Jersey?"
"Who would've guessed New Jersey was one giant, cosmic sewer?" Rizzo asked.
Everyone looked around uncomfortably until Hulk spotted Shailene Woodsley.
"ROCKET RACCOON? WHO SHAVE YOUR SOFT FUR?"
"Okay, guys, I get it, I'm not conventionally attractive and I'm playing a model. But did anyone stop to think that maybe I was cast because of my inner beauty?" Just then, a butterfly flew past Shailene Woodsley. She grabbed its wings and ripped them off. "There is no truth in this world," she whispered to it, as she lowered it to the ground.
Thor shrugged. "Well, tis all well as it endeth well," he declared.
Miss Piggy shook her head. "I feel like we're forgetting something…"
Justin Bieber stood on the red carpet, nodding at the E! News microphone shoved in his face. "With my new clothing line, I feel like I'm answering a question the fashion world has been asking for a long time. And that question is, 'Swag?' And the answer is, 'Swag.'"
Suddenly, he took an arrow in the knee, prompting a legion of Skyrim jokes so predictable they've been relegated to the comments section.
A sedan was stopped at the curb, a ski-masked archer leaning out the window and a ski-masked eagle in the driver's seat.
"Belieb that, bitch!" the ski-masked archer yelled.
"Caw caw, motherfucker!" the ski-masked eagle added, before driving off.
All the fans, celebrities, and vapid TV personalities stood gaping in astonishment, at least until a tour bus pulled up where the sedan had been. Patrick Stewart leaned out.
"Hello, we're the cast of X-Men: Days of Future Past. We're here for our cameo."
"The fic's pretty much over," Justin Bieber said, clutching his knee so hard that gossip magazines quickly began rumoring they were an item.
"But the rest of the cast already boarded their plane," Patrick Stewart cried. He waited expectantly, but the crowd had turned its attention back to Justin Bieber bleeding out on the red carpet. "Our film has a very large cast, you see. It's funny." The crowd parted as EMTs arrived to tend to Justin Bieber. "THERE ARE FOUR LIGHTS," Patrick Stewart tried, but he might as well have been quoting from his villain turn in 1997's Masterminds, with Vincent Kartheiser and Bradley Whitford. "No one has a sense of humor anymore. Next they'll be complaining about all the Shailene Woodley jokes."
In the SHIELD Heli-Carrier, Nick Fury turned from the live feed of Justin Bieber's injury to his video link with the World Security Council. "Well, sirs, looks like everything turned out alright. The Muppetdarin's been captured, Loki is back in custody, and we hobbled Justin Bieber. What're your thoughts on the matter?"
The two senior WSC members looked at each other, then at Fury. "The last time we saw a fanfic this bad, it was published as Fifty Shades of Gray. DOHOHOHOHOHO!"