Sam trudged up the steps to his apartment. For some reason, it had taken him longer to drive home than he normally would have. The thoughts of what he'd seen at the Bitterman International Building had stayed with him. The justice system in Muppetville had certainly changed a lot since he'd last been there. But there was little he could do about anything at the moment, as far as he could see.
He was so wrapped up in thought that he wasn't really watching where he was walking, and as such was somewhat surprised when he tripped over something near his door. "Hey, who put this…!" he started to roar, before noticing that the thing he'd tripped over was Robin the frog. "What are you doing here?" he asked a little roughly.
"Mr. Klubb, I've been waiting here for almost two hours now," Robin said, a nervous tinge to his voice, "My Uncle Kermit couldn't possibly have killed Bitterman. He's a thoroughly nonviolent creature. You'll have to believe me on this."
"I'd like to believe you kid, but all the evidence points against your uncle," Sam said, stepping over the miniature frog to unlock his door, "He got ticked after he saw Piggy selling out and tried to settle the score. He practically said it to my face in Golderman's office."
"That's not why Bitterman was killed," Robin spoke up.
Sam dropped his keys. "Really?" he asked cynically, "Than why was she killed?"
"Jim's will," Robin told him.
"Jim's will," Sam almost laughed, "There is no Henson will. That's an urban legend."
"No it's not," Robin protested, "Jim swore to us he'd written it to make sure we Muppets retained all our rights after he died. He wanted to make sure we'd at least have Muppetville forever. Bitterman had it; she'd kept it locked away, hoping to take us over by force after it's fifteen year provision ran out."
"Fifteen year provision?"
"Yes. If it wasn't made public fifteen years after Jim's death, it would be null and void," Robin explained, "I don't know why he had that written in; it doesn't make sense. Anyway, if you could track it down for us and clear my Uncle Kermit, I'd…"
Sam grabbed the small frog around the chest. "I'm not taking your money!" he snarled, "Like I said hundreds of times before, I DON'T work for Muppets!"
"Would you at least take the tape you shot last night?" Robin held it up, "Maybe if you could find the…"
"How'd you get that tape?" Sam demanded, "That was in Golderman's office safe!"
"Well, for one thing it helps to be small, and secondly, Golderman's safe combination is 1-2-3," Robin told him, "Promise you'll look at it?"
"What if I say no?"
"HELP! POLICE! MURDER!" Robin screamed at the top of his lungs up and down the hall. Sam rolled his eyes. "All right, I'll take it, now beat it!" he snapped, taking the tape with one hand and hurling Robin down the hall with the other. He slammed the door behind him.
"Henson's will," he grumbled to himself as he popped the tape into the VCR, "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. As much as he could have wanted to do it, it would have been impossible to take out…"
Something abruptly caught his eye. He stopped the tape and rewound to just before Bitterman handed Miss Piggy the paper. Hitting pause, he stared intently at the screen. Peeking out of Bitterman's tuxedo pocket was a piece of paper entitled, MY LAST WILL AND TESTIMENT, A MANIFESTO BY JAMES MAURY HENSON. "I don't believe it," the detective mused to himself, "He really did write a will." He thought over the ramifications of this for a moment, but then shook his head, saying, "Ah, that doesn't clear Kermit. He might have wanted to…"
It was then that the doorbell rang. "Package for you, Mr. Klubb," came the mailman's voice. Sam frowned; he wasn't expecting anything in the mail. He opened the door. "I'm not…" he started to say.
"Sign here please," the mailman shoved a signature pad in his face. Sam shrugged and signed it off. The mailman hefted a brown paper package into his hands. "Have a nice day," he said, tipping his hat as he left. Sam set the package down on the coffee table and slowly tore it open…
"Hi ho," Kermit abruptly popped out of it. Sam leaped in the air in shock. "What do you think you're doing in here?" he demanded to the fugitive.
"I didn't know where else to go," Kermit popped out of the box and closed the door, "Everyone in town's on the lookout for me. I knew after last night you'd be reluctant to take me in, so I went to the post office after midnight and wrapped myself up."
"Does anyone else know you're here?" Sam grilled him.
"Nobody," Kermit raised his hand in honor, "I was alone all last night; nobody saw me after I left Golderman's office."
But it was at that moment that there was another knock on the door. "Hey Kermit, you in there?" came Fozzie's voice.
"Of course I could be wrong," Kermit gulped as Sam fixed him with an iron stare. The door opened and Fozzie barreled in. "Oh Kermit it's so good to see you alive!" the bear gushed, giving Kermit an almost suffocating hug.
Gonzo and Rizzo followed Fozzie in. "We were worried all night that you'd been caught and saunaed," the former added, hugging the frog even tighter, "We were…"
"Fozzie, Gonzo, air!" Kermit just managed to weakly gasp, pointing to his throat. Sam pried the bear and whatever off him. "You stupid fools!" he roared at them, "Do you realize the neighbors can hear every word you're saying?"
"So what?" Rizzo shrugged, opening the cabinet and helping himself to some cheese, "It's not like it's any of their business."
"Yeah, but any one of them can call the cops and send us all to jail!" Sam thundered, grabbing the cheese out of the rat's hand, "So get out of here!"
"Why?" Gonzo looked rather confused, "Since you got Kermit into trouble anyway, we figured you'd be willing to help get him out of it, seeing how other than this case you're nothing but a washed-up bum."
Sam grabbed Gonzo's nose and gave it a hard tug. "You said you were alone all night?" he rounded on Kermit.
"I was!" Kermit protested, "I didn't know they'd…"
"We were out all night looking for Kermit," Fozzie explained, "Using a precise mathematical system like those used on Numb3rs, we were able to systematically narrow down Kermit's location to a few blocks, then accurately eliminate…"
"Fozzie," Kermit looked at him, exasperated.
"Uh, basically we lucked out," Fozzie admitted, "We saw Kermit going into the post office in the morning and followed the mail truck here."
"And now you'll all be following the frog out of here!" Sam picked all four Muppets up and carried them toward the door.
"Please Mr. Klubb, you have to believe me, I didn't kill Bitterman!" Kermit protested, "Yes, I got mad when I saw that tape, but I never had any intention of killing her for it! I hung around the Muppet Theater for hours hoping to meet up with Piggy and ask why she did it. She wasn't there, so I wrote up a new contract that would have kept everyone intact."
Sam dropped them all in surprise. "A new contract?" he frowned, "That's your answer to being sold out: a new contract."
"Jim entrusted me with the power to make the business deals," Kermit defended his position, "But once I'd gotten it all typed up, the Riverbottom Gang was after me. They've had me in their sights for years; wanted to take out revenge on me for my uncle Doc Bullfrog bailing out Emmett Otter's family."
"And to probably steal your scarf again," Fozzie interceded. Everyone ignored him. "Then why come to me, the guy who sent you off the deep end in the first place?" Sam had to ask.
"Jim trusted you," Kermit looked sentimental, "He told me just before he died that if any Muppet ever had a problem, they should come to you."
"Well Mr. Henson had…GET OUT OF THAT CHAIR, YOU RAT!" Sam yelled at Rizzo, who'd made the mistake of climbing into the chair at Kate Klubb's desk. Rizzo leaped all the way into the rafters in shock. "All right, fix the hernia!" he protested.
"Nobody sit in my sister's chair," Sam scolded him.
"You know I haven't seen her or your dad and brother lately," Fozzie examined the empty desks, "Are they like on extended vacation?"
"All right, Foz, you're going to jail," Sam grabbed the phone on the wall and began dialing it.
"Oh the cruelty of it," Fozzie moaned melodramatically, "To turn away the people who only come here for help! Is this any way to run a business?"
"Uh, Fozzie, you're overdoing it," Kermit looked uncomfortable with his partner's soliloquy.
"Well there's no need for us to hang around here," Fozzie grabbed Kermit by the arm and started dragging him toward the nearest door, "We can take the hint when we're not wanted!"
"Fozzie, you're embarrassing me!" Kermit growled at him. Fozzie was too caught up in hysterics to pay attention. "Goodbye, Sam Klubb, and good luck!" he finished, slamming the door behind Kermit and himself.
"You stupid bear, that's the bathroom!" Sam yelled at him. There was no response. "He gets like this every now and then," Gonzo tried to explain, "It must be the…"
"Shut up!" Sam pushed past him. He threw open the bathroom door. "Where are you!" he bellowed. He became immediately aware that the shower was running. He threw open the shower curtain…
"EEEEEEEEEKKKKKK!" Fozzie screamed. He was wearing a shower cap and had been washing himself with a brush. "Help, police, intruder, thief!"
He started hitting Sam with the brush, and then turned the showerhead toward him. Sam was completely doused from head to toe. He collapsed to the floor as Fozzie ran out of the bathroom. Kermit popped out of the hamper. "Lesson Number One, don't ever follow a Muppet into a closed room," he informed the detective, "They'll always make it come back on…no Fozzie, don't handcuff him!"
But it was too late. The bear had secured Sam's wrists behind his back. "There, that will keep you nice and secure until the police come to pick you up, you dirty peeper you," he said.
"YOU IDIOT!" Sam rose up and glared down at Fozzie, "I lost the key to these handcuffs years ago!"
"Uh, well," for the first time, Fozzie was looking sheepish, "Uh, well, maybe we could blow it off if…."
"Hey, you guys hear something?" Rizzo suddenly spoke up. The wail of a siren could be heard getting closer. "That doesn't sound good," the rat gulped.
"Doesn't look good either," Gonzo had jumped to the window. A familiar jalopy had totaled a mailbox across the street. Out of nowhere, Wander McMooch lumbered up to it. "The frog's in Klubb's apartment," he informed Chuck.
"Good work, McMooch," Chuck could be heard commending the big toad, "Lord Jareth will be happy that head of his Vigilance Committee fulfills his requirements. Fall out."
The Riverbottom Gang piled out of their car—Chuck helping the Pop-Eyed Catfish into a metal bucket—and rushed through traffic across the street. "Quick, quick, hide Kermit!" Gonzo started panicking.
"I know, he mailed himself in, we'll mail him out," Rizzo opened Sam's desk and pulled out an empty envelope. "Bring Kermit over," he called to Gonzo.
"Uh, Gonzo, I don't think this is going to work—GONZO!" Kermit's pleas were to no avail, as the whatever tried to stuff him into the clearly-too-small envelope. "OK, maybe if we lay him sideways," he figured.
"Suck in your breath, Kermit; we'll get you in easier," Rizzo urged the frog. Mercifully it was at this point that the envelope broke, spilling Kermit to the floor. Footsteps could be heard coming up the steps now. "Uh, anyone got any other plans?" Gonzo asked anyone within earshot.
"I know, we'll pose as canaries," Fozzie suggested, "They're not looking for canaries. You got any yellow paint in here, Mr. Klubb?"
The bear climbed up on a desk and started chirping. Sam backed toward him and grabbed him by the ears. "Will you just shut up while I think over what to do!" he hissed.
There was a knocking on the door. "Open up in name of the law!" Chuck ordered. "Please think of this while you're thinking," Kermit pleaded Sam, "There's no justice for Muppets nowadays. If the Riverbottom Gang gets their hands on me, I'm as good as saunaed. Please don't let that happen, Mr. Klubb!"
"We're coming in shooting at count of five!" Chuck bellowed, "FIVE!"
There was a loud blast as he and his fellow gang members blew the door open. They sneaked into the apartment. "I don't see the frog," the Weasel admitted, glancing around.
"Keep looking," Chuck told him, "Klubb's got him hid somewhere."
The bear heard the same sound of water running in the bathroom. He stormed into it and threw open the shower curtain. "Freeze!" he ordered, hefting a shotgun.
Sam, now wearing the same shower cap Fozzie had moments ago, turned to face him. "It's open, come in," he said innocently. Chuck fortunately didn't take notice that the detective was apparently taking a shower in his underwear or that he was handcuffed—or that his shower cap bulged significantly. The bear climbed up onto the rim of the tub. "Where's the frog?" he demanded.
"I haven't seen any frog," Sam said dismissively.
"You sure?" Chuck growled, "We got sources saying the frog came this way. Bear, rat, and whatever followed him too. Don't give the Riverbottom Nightmare Gang trouble."
"I'd watch yourself, pal," Sam warned him, "If I weren't careful, somebody might make you eat your words, like I'm going to make you eat this!"
He turned around and shoved the soap down Chuck's throat. Mumbling unintelligible words, Chuck stumbled back into the main office spitting bubbles from his mouth. The rest of the Riverbottom Gang burst into laughter at their boss's predicament. Growling loudly, Chuck spit out the soap, which knocked the Pop-Eyed Catfish out of its bucket and into the window. "Shut up!" Chuck roared, grabbing a broom from the closet. He whacked the Snake and Weasel over the head with it, then rammed it down the Lizard's throat, leaving his reptilian comrade a bit wider across the bottom and with a much longer neck. "We're professionals," he told his crew, "We're supposed to act like professionals at all times, Lord Jareth said!"
He walked back into the bathroom. "OK, you're off hook now," he told Sam, "But don't get any bright ideas about crossing us, cause grass don't grow on the places we stop and stand, Klubb."
"Chuck, Chuck, air!" the Pop-Eyed Catfish could be heard screeching in a high voice. Chuck walked out, picked it up where it lay sputtering on the floor, and dropped it back into its bucket. "Off we go," he told the rest of the Riverbottom Gang, who shuffled out the broken door, the Lizard whacking his now much higher head off the doorway. The moment they were gone, Sam took off the shower cap. "All clear," he told the Muppets inside it.
"Boy that was quick thinking, Mr. Klubb," Gonzo wrung himself dry, "I thought for sure they'd catch us there."
"Well, don't ask me to do it again, because I won't," Sam told him. He growled as Rizzo tried to hug him and lunged his chest into the wall, sending the rat, spiraling dazed to the floor. "Got to get these cuffs off," he grumbled, climbing out of the tub and trying his best to dry himself off.
"How about we call Crazy Harry and…" Fozzie suggested.
"NO!" everyone else yelled at him. "We've got to find a new place to stash Kermit, though," Rizzo suggested, opening the medicine cabinet.
"What do you think you're doing now!" Sam yelled at him.
"I need Bayer after that whopping headache you just gave me," Rizzo twisted open the bottle of Bayer inside and tried to swallow the pill—which was at least three times too big for his mouth.
"Well we can't go back to the swamp," Kermit dried himself off with a spare towel, "They'll be looking for me there. You know anywhere to hide us at, Detective Klubb?"
"Let me think," Sam thought it over thoroughly, "Yeah, I know one place, but you'd have to behave absolutely perfectly."
"Sounds good, I'll pack," Fozzie strolled toward the dresser in the bedroom. "Oh no you don't!" Sam rushed after him, "I'M packing for you!"
"What do you mean there was no sign of the frog there?" Jareth demanded to his minions back at his castle.
"We looked all over Klubb's place, boss," the Weasel told him, "No sign of the frog anywhere. It was a bad lead."
"Trust me, it wasn't," Jareth informed him, "Klubb knows more than he's willing to let on."
"We'll go take care of it," the Snake started to slither off. Jareth let out a blast of energy from his hand that sent the reptile flying hard into the wall. "You've already tried that, you fool!" he berated it, "You and your associates have shown again and again you're no good at direct interrogation. So for the meantime my minions will handle our friend Detective Klubb."
Dark laughter echoed all through the chamber as goblins of all shapes and sizes came out of hiding. "I want Detective Klubb brought here and interrogated as to the frog's whereabouts," Jareth informed his underlings. Turning back to the Riverbottom Gang, he ordered, "In the meantime, you five get back on the streets. It's imperative that the frog be tried and convicted for this crime as soon as possible. Now get going."