A lone small sofa sat in the middle of a large meadow which was decorated with multitudes of rainbow-colored flowers of every variety. Moulin cautiously looked around and sat down. A small black device rested on the nearest arm of the sofa, marked "Pager". She accessed it and watched it buzz.

"You know," a female voice began from behind, "it seems like anyone can just walk on in here."

Moulin turned to see a dark-skinned athletic woman with long ebony braids and a winning smile stand behind her. She wore loose-fitting brilliantly white clothes.

"So," the woman continued, "it's been awhile since I got any visitors from your neck of the woods." She pointed to the field, which dissolved into a beach environment, the roaring waves splashing just a few feet in front of them, though they did not get wet. "Is this better?"

Moulin didn't answer.

The woman casually sighed and sat down on the sofa and watched the waves as seagulls flew by. "I just love the beach," the woman told Moulin cheerfully.

Moulin smiled politely.

The woman sighed and slapped her own thigh. "So ... let's get down to business, since you're obviously not the small talk-type, are you? I hardly think sending a hurricane to Hollywood will do much."

Moulin frowned. "Milady," she said finally, "you are not against consequences. There are those who hide behind purity while wallowing in the mud. Why must they escape justice?"

The woman shook her head slightly. "Moulin, your integrity and love of justice has always been quite admirable. That said, even with your powers of foresight, you don't see very well." She took a small golden remote control out of her pocket, summoning a large flat-screen television which floated in the air just in front of them. She pushed a couple of buttons. Throngs of people appeared, as if they were on a reality hidden-camera show. "See all these people? Can you tell which ones deserve intervention?"

Moulin shook her head. "With all due respect, Milady, the comparison fails. You know which ones deserve it."

The woman nodded. "But you don't. That's my point. Just watching them, they're all equal."

Moulin cringed. "They're not. Some are outgoing, some are hermits, some are nice, some are vindictive."

The woman shrugged. "The pros and cons balance out most of the time." She looked at Moulin. "I do adjust the settings when the settings get out of whack." She sighed. "Look: this isn't some kid's show. Bad days happen." She stared at Moulin expectantly. "Come on, Moulin ... spit it out!" she barked sharply.

Moulin gulped. "Milady, I feel the writer of this show doesn't have the audience's best interests at heart and it shows in the poor ratings."

The woman laughed. "Poor ratings? Humans scramble all over themselves to bring in more people in the world. If it were really that bad, why the insistence on reproduction?"

Moulin scowled. "Hormones."

The woman shook her head. "Animals and plants can defer the biological clock when needed. Humans are no different ... or any other creature, for that matter," she added, glancing knowingly at Moulin. "It's not like they can't help themselves. I set the bar rather high for stopping behavior to keep it from seeming far too demanding. No one likes micromanagement."

"So beings should suffer?"

The woman's expression became dead serious. "Moulin, I know along the timeline, the idea got into people's heads that all I did all day was go around listening to chanting and sipping some Shiraz and making flowers bloom. One person's problem is another person's solution. One person's trash is another person's treasure. I don't do the whole 'one-size-fits-all' thing, girlfriend. I need my stuff custom-tailored. That does mean that some won't like something. I'm not going to spoon-feed anyone."

Moulin stood. "I'm not asking for perfection --."

"So if I just cooked something up half-baked, it'd be a solution no one'd gripe about?" wondered the woman.

"Boss!" Moulin exclaimed in frustration. "Don't you understand? This won't stop until you make an example of someone!"

The Boss smiled briefly. "A long time ago, people would wonder why a hurricane would come to some place like Galveston or New Orleans and trash whole neighborhoods while sparing the saloons and nightclubs. You know what conclusion the people who were supposed to be getting 'the example' conceived? They said the Ultimate Evil spared the sinners to spite Me." She scoffed. "This is why I stopped the natural disaster punishment deal, Moulin. The ones who I wanted to pay attention just believed whatever they wanted anyway. They pray for all that destruction to shame their enemies, but when they get that treatment, suddenly I'm either cruel or incompetent." She stared at Moulin with a pained expression on her face. "I'll keep an eye on things, Moulin ... but I'm not going to bow before mortals or immortals just because they want to whine."

Kermit slowly dialed the phone. He breathed deeply. It had been months since they had really, really talked. He felt so guilty. It rang. "Hi, this is Kermit. I ... uh ... I just wanted to say I've missed talking to you. I know I've been busy, but that's no excuse. I still think about you a --." There was a beep. It was another caller. He sighed and pushed the button. "Hello? This is Kermit the Frog."

"Hey, Kermit," said a female voice glumly. "Would it be possible to talk to you?"

"Jenny?" Kermit gasped in shock. "Uh, yeah. I was trying to call Piggy ... but you know her ... she never keeps her cell on." Now he really felt like a heel. She sounded awful.

"How about Charlie's in an hour?"

"Um ... sure," Kermit responded unsurely.

Author's Note: The Boss is from It's a Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie. "Charlie's" is a Sesame Street restaurant.