Chapter 25: The Aftermath

"PHYLLIS, LOOK OUT!"

That cry came from over a dozen throats at once, all in some sort of different form but still the exact same warning. But I couldn't do anything. The Chief's club was crashing down closer to my skull, and even though it felt like everything was moving in slow motion I had no way to get myself to move out of the line of fire.

Then, all of a sudden, I felt my legs give out from under me as I was tackled out of the way of the coming club. I skidded to a halt on the floor, and in a panic looked around to see who it was that had pushed me out of the crossfire. In astonishment I realized that lying panting on the floor was Kermit, with Robin by his side.

Before I had a chance to dwell on that fact, I remembered with a jolt the Chief and looked up, expecting to see his club preparing to finish smashing me into a pulp. Instead, though, he was swinging pointlessly at—at—

Hanging off the Chief's right leg and trying to bite him was Rowlf, helped out by Baskerville and Animal. Beauregard, Fozzie, Zoot, Gonzo and Scooter were hanging onto his left arm, restraining his club. Miss Piggy was attacking him with all the force of a pig enraged, and Lew Zealand was throwing his boomerang fish with wild abandon. Wayne, Wanda, Janice, Dr. Teeth, Dr. Honeydew, Uncle Deadly and Beaker were also fighting back in any way they could figure.

And right there, in the middle of the fray, was Floyd, fending off the Chief with a blazing fervor that I had never seen him use before in my life.

I was utterly taken aback. Instead of being crushed beneath the club of an almost-murderer, I was instead being rescued by—well, just about everyone I'd met over the course of this adventure. Many of the people who were now risking their lives to save me I had only known for a few days of my life.

"Even if you tie us up, we'll follow you. Because if you're going to risk your life, then we want the chance to possibly save it. No matter what."

Kermit had said that two days ago when I had tried to dissuade him and Fozzie from following me to the sewer community. And he had been better than his word...even better than I had thought anyone could ever be. Maybe when I had moved to Muppetburg...maybe, instead of just earning a new lifestyle, I had earned the best friends I could possibly ask for, no matter how long I lived.

I stood up, groaning a bit at the ache to my bones from landing on the floor. I staggered a bit, but Kermit supported me with his shoulder. "That's enough, Chief," I announced. "We know what you tried to do."

Though Chief Sweetums still continued to fight, the five on his left arm eventually wrestled his club away from him while Miss Piggy karate-chopped him into submission. After only about a minute of heavy struggling, Crazy Harry managed to secure handcuffs on him with the help of several other cops. The Swedish chef was holding the Chief at the point of his musket, as none of the other policemen really had any weapons with them. "You'll be lucky if you get life for this," Baskerville yapped.

"That's right, ex-Chief," I declared as I stumbled over to him, forsaking Kermit's assistance this time. "You have to stand trial like the others in this room that have done wrong."

"Hey, Ms. Pepper!" Beauregard called, and I turned as quickly as I could manage. He was pointing to the seats that Rizzo and his partners in crime had occupied. They were all empty. "The rats escaped!"

I looked over, and saw a small hole in between the hardwood slats that seemed like it had been dug in a frenzy with no time to spare. I sighed. "They burrowed out while we were all occupied with stopping the Chief. No use looking for them; they could come up anywhere." I turned to Beauregard. "You might want to deal with Dr. Strangepork first, though," I mentioned. "He seems like he might not feel so bad serving his proper term and getting it over with."

"OK," Beau replied, then paused for a second. "Why are you asking me to do all this stuff?"

I inclined my head at the Chief, who was still being restrained—though Uncle Deadly was looking over him with a rather morbid interest. "He's not the Chief of Police anymore," I smiled. "And I think in the chain of command, you're next up for the office."

The revelation hit him with the force of one of Lew Zealand's boomerang fish. I let him just stand there in quiet surprise for a second, before I finished completely with the story I had to tell. "But the Chief was not alone in planning for Sam the Eagle's murder!" I called out, and at those words everyone hushed again.

———

WALDORF: Oh, they CAN'T keep us LONGER!!

———

"There was another involved," I announced. "In fact, two others." Advancing towards those still-seated, I pointed directly at the two hecklers. "THEM!"

———

STATLER: WHAT?!

———

"Yes!" I proclaimed as several more cops came around and cuffed them in irons. "The Chief's racism helped make him the perfect dupe for the job, especially considering the fact that no one would suspect a member of the police force! These two old hecklers had never liked the acts at the Theater, so they realized that if they were somehow able to kill Sam, the rest of the acts would drop off one by one! They were the ones the Chief called when I spotted him out of uniform the afternoon before the 'murder', getting instructions on the deed under the coded pretense that he was calling his mother!" I kept at it, though they were shrinking away in the realization that they were trapped. "The rats were their dupes, not the Chief's. And they were following along with a detailed report of my investigation, written by a series of Muppets who had been trailing me, so they'd know when I had gotten dangerously close to discovering their hand in the whole thing! That's why Rizzo was so conveniently at Shoeshine Scooter's at the same time I was!"

———

STATLER: NOOO!

WALDORF: How could she have CAUGHT us? It was the PERFECT crime!

STATLER: Well, EXCEPT for the fact that SHE JUST CAUGHT US!

WALDORF: Oh, shut up!

STATLER: YOU shut up!

WALDORF: YOU should have known BETTER than to chain us to our seats in the Theater!

STATLER: Well, YOU should have known better than to TELL me to chain us to our seats!

WALDORF: WELL—

———

The two hecklers kept arguing the whole way through, but I didn't hear them. Off by the doors out of Movin' Right Along I spotted Floyd, waving to try and get my attention. Making sure that Beauregard had just about everything under control, I headed over to my cousin and we walked outside.

It was early in the night, but the sky was already dark and speckled with stars. Most of the storefronts in the area had already turned on their outdoor lightbulbs, and the whole thing had a sort of a mystical aura about it. Floyd and I walked in silence over to a bench just outside the little diner, just under a streetlamp. The light gave Floyd's hair a fluorescent sort of sheen.

We sat for a while, not talking, not looking at each other. The cacophony from inside Movin' Right Along seemed like it came from a different world altogether. After a moment or so, however, Floyd spoke. "You busted the doctor and the rats, but you didn't say nothin' about me and the rest of the guys."

I took my time to answer. "No, I didn't." I didn't look at him, instead slumping over almost double and letting all my attention be occupied by a pool of the light spilling onto the sidewalk from the lamppost.

"Why?" Floyd asked it so softly, his mouth hardly moving, that at first I didn't think that I'd heard him say it at all. The question, so simple, was yet so important.

I finally got myself up enough that I actually looked up at his face. The dark sunglasses may have masked his eyes, but the same question was reflected in their lenses. "Why else?" I offered, trying to smile but only managing it weakly. "You're my cousin."

Even though it was causing him some doubt and pain, Floyd persisted. "You said yourself to the chief o' the fuzz that that had nothin' to do with your decision!" he protested. "Is that really it? I'll turn myself in if you want, cus, that's all I'm askin'!"

I heaved a sigh, looking off into the distance. "I owed you one, Floyd," I stated, and he glanced at me in confusion. I looked back at him again. "Two days ago, you were in your room at The Happiness Hotel, and you were confused that the receipt was missing for the Overrider. Well, it was missing because I had taken it just a few seconds before you guys came back." While Floyd continued to stare in incredulity, I grinned and continued, "I didn't think that you'd return while I was in the room, so I hid. That was why Animal was yelling 'Woman', 'cus he had sniffed me out already. But you didn't believe him, and made him stop yelling, and because of that you never knew that I'd been there. I owed you for not finding me out so that, among several other reasons, was why I didn't say anything."

We sat in silence for another short while, then Floyd started laughing. "You're too funny, Phyll!" he snickered. "Breakin' into my room when I was out, then thinkin' you owe me for not catchin' you..." He just shook his head, still convulsing in laughter. "Man, if Animal hadn't been with us, I wouldn't have ever thought that you could've done it! Whatever happened to that little kid who always had to be occupied by her cousin Floyd at all the family reunions?"

"I think she grew up," I responded, leaning against his shoulder just a little. After a pause, I added, "Did you know that your drummer was a prison escapee?"

The arbitrary fact certainly jolted Floyd up. "What?"

I grinned at him. "I'm serious! Before he met up with your band, Animal was incarcerated at a maximum-security branch of the Muppetburg police station, and he broke out only a little while back by attacking the guard who brought him lunch. I found it out when I looked up any records you and the rest of the Mayhem might have had at the police station."

Floyd just shook his head again amidst chuckles, and aside from that all was once more silent except for the din coming out of the diner. Then, a little quietly, I mumbled, "You were right."

He looked at me. "Right 'bout what, cus?"

I sighed, and my face colored up again. "About Kermit," I confessed, "and how I...you know, how much I liked him." It took some effort to admit to all this, especially to Floyd. "I really did like him like that, but he loves somebody else. Miss Piggy." Floyd was about to say something, but I cut him off. "I'm OK now, though. I've accepted it, and it's not going to get the better of me. Besides, I'd probably never have been comfortable as anything other than a friend, even after all that time we spent together."

I let the conversation lie there, and even though it felt kind of weird sharing such personal stuff like this with Floyd, I felt a lot better finally getting it all out. But it was a surprise to me when I felt Floyd's hand atop mine. "Phyll...sorry."

I smiled as well as I could, too embarrassed to look at him now. "It's really better now, though," I breathed, "because I have a lot of friends now. And they're all even gutsy enough to take on an ogre!"

"Only," Floyd reminded, grinning, "if you're in danger for it."

We might have sat there together for a few minutes, maybe a few hours, maybe even the whole night. But at last everything was just as it should be: I maybe hadn't found true love yet, but I had found a lot of friends and rediscovered a spiritually-lost cousin. And all in the middle of looking for a murderer.

Only in Muppetburg.