Sam slowly came to; he'd been chloroformed shortly after being caught. A brief look around told him that he was in the middle of Jareth's castle, with it's elaborate stair maze all around him. Gathered in a circle around him, snickering under their breaths, were dozens upon dozens of goblins. "He's awake," one of them pointlessly stated.

"What do you think you're doing, bringing me here like this?" Sam demanded, leaping to his feet. The goblins drew numerous weapons on him, forcing him to back down. "We want to tell you, Detective Klubb, we're not the friendliest of creatures," a short, hunchbacked goblin strolled forward out of the crowd, "Our king has orders to get information out of you, so we'll get it. Now's where's the frog?"

"Frog, what frog?" Sam innocently asked.

"Gee, I don't know," the hunchbacked goblin stupidly shrugged.

"KERMIT THE FROG, YOU MORON!" Jareth's voice rang out above them from seemingly thin air. "Oh yeah, Kermit," a blue goblin in a robe and hood realized, "So where is he Mr. Klubb?"

"I haven't seen him since last night, honest," Sam lied, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm late for dinner."

He tried to push his way through the crowd of goblins, but those in the back held up spears to his face. "If you don't tell us where Kermit is," warned a huge black goblin, "We'll be forced to do something so unpleasant to you it'll ruin your whole day."

"Oh boy, I'd loved to see that," Sam muttered sarcastically.

"OK guys, he wants to see us do it," the huge black goblin told his companions. Immediately Sam found himself being swarmed upon by the goblins, which dragged him toward a door against the far wall—or at least what was probably the wall. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Showing you how we do things downtown these days, Detective Klubb," said an anonymous goblin in the crowd whom Sam couldn't see. The goblins opened the door and pulled him inside, taking care to close it behind him. It was at this point that Jareth materialized out of thin air. He listened with much delight as Sam shrieked and roared behind the door. "I've been wanting to do this for some time now," the Goblin King admitted out loud to himself, "and I picked the perfect sap to do it to."

Sam burst out of the door, covering his head. "Did you enjoy your makeover, Mr. Klubb?" Jareth asked him almost tauntingly, "I think it fitting for you since you so vehemently refuse to cooperate with us. Why don't we have a look at what my legions made you over into?"

He made a mirror magically appear in front of them. Sam took one look at himself in it and let out a shrill scream: his head had been made over into that of a Muppet horse's! "Now why don't you run along back to your dimension," Jareth made a gesture with his hand that blew Sam backwards through a hole in the floor, "And remember, Mr. Klubb, we will find the frog, even if you are trying to hide him."

"Hey, no horsing around, pal!" one of the street winos laughed at Sam as he staggered back through the streets toward his apartment.

"Very Funnnnnny," Sam was unable to stop himself from rolling the ns, a bad side effect of having his head horsed like this. It was unnerving to realize that he now had a long snout and moveable ears.

There was widespread laughter from a bus of school kids passing by. "We just played H-O-R-S-E at recess today; where we you when we needed you?" one of them called out to him.

"I've head of people being a horse's rear, but never seen anyone who was a horse's head before!" another wino chuckled. Sam lowered his head and ran as fast as he could for home. The sooner he was safely inside, the better.

Once he was, he rushed for the cabinet and dug out a bottle of paint remover and several jars of wart-removing acid. Then he ran into the bathroom and began dumping everything on the horse head. Soon the sink was filled with brown fur and wires. The snout broke off as one, leaving him with clear sight again. He rinsed down the back of his neck to get rid of the mane there, then washed his entire head with a good dousing of water. He looked up in the mirror to see he was thankfully back to normal again.

It was then that he heard the front door close again. Puzzled, he walked out of the bathroom to find Miss Piggy standing in the middle of the room, admiring herself in her compact. "You really shouldn't leave the door unlocked in a bad neighborhood like this, Detective Klubb," she told him.

"I had an emergency," Sam dried himself off with a spare towel, "So what makes you so bent on coming here?"

"I need you to help me find Kermit," Piggy squeezed the compact shut, "I'm so worried about him."

"Why, when you signed that contract with Bitterman to…?"

No I didn't," Piggy told him, "That was just a paper with gibberish on it. Golderman set you up. He said if I didn't pretend to sign myself over to the corporation, neither Kermie nor I would work in show business again."

"Sure don't want to leave Tinseltown, do you?" Sam replied, "So why did Golderman ask you to do it?"

"I have no clue," Piggy insisted shortly, "That fat pig—no offense to myself—tells no one anything, moi included."

Sam's mind was clicking. Golderman looked even guiltier now than ever. But he still didn't have a concrete set of proof the studio magnate had killed off his boss. Without which, Kermit was still destined for a quick bath. And yet there was something in Piggy's eye that looked just a little off kilter. "How do I know you're reasons for wanting to find Kermit are completely moral?" he had to ask.

"Are you saying that you don't trust moi?" Piggy looked upon him with an offended look, "Listen Detective Klubb, I'm not bad, I was just built that way. How about we talk over Kermie over a cup of nice hot cocoa? After all, I'm sure a sweet man like you cares as much about the frog of my dreams as you do, you big handsome love machine."

She was now caressing his leg and making strange pig-like noises. Sam had no idea where she was planning to go with this—and fortunately didn't find out, for it was at that minute that Connie abruptly walked into the office. "Sam, what are you doing?" she demanded to him.

Piggy looked at her, then looked the detective right in the face. "Ah, pulling the old love triangle trick behind my back, huh?" she asked roughly, "Well, here's what I say to that, Mr. Klubb: HIIIIIIIIIYYAAAAA!"

She karate-chopped him over his desk and walked briskly out of the office. "Move it, babe!" she pushed Connie aside as she went. The waitress stormed over to the desk. "Would you mind explaining why the pig was trying to seduce you, Sam?" she asked him.

"I honestly have no idea what she was doing," Sam said, pulling himself to his feet, "And I have no intention of having inter-species love with anyone, honest? Did you find anything out?"

"All right," Connie laid a few sheets of paper on his desk, "The public records office says that Henson's will was originally entrusted to his family. Bitterman bought it out from under them a few years ago. The fifteen years run out tonight at midnight, at which point she was going to call in the bulldozers and flatten Muppetville."

"But they don't have the will at the moment."

"No, but if it isn't found, Muppetville will still be up for development for the highest bidder," the waitress explained, "If Kermit somehow did do it, he's faced with…"

"Shhh!" Sam suddenly put his hands to her lips. He walked toward the window and threw it open. A loud swinging tune could be heard from the diner across the street. Along with what was definitely Fozzie's voice. "Oh great!" the detective groaned, "Apparently the concept of being in hiding really doesn't mean anything to them! Come on!"

He took Connie's hand and half-dragged her out the door. Neither of them noticed that Piggy had been crouched outside the hall, listening in on their every word. Nor did they notice the Riverbottom Nightmare Gang popping out of a janitor's bin near the stairs as they ran by. "I knew we'd find the frog hanging around here," Chuck told his gang members, "Call Lord Jareth."