"Und hieren tossen die cranberren huuuup!" the Swedish Chef tossed several cranberries up in the air and smashed them with a mallet, "Wir haar instanten cranberren saucen! Und mur cranberren huuuuup, und mur cranberren saucen. Und mur cranberren huuup…"
"I think you've got enough cranberry sauce there," Emily informed her head cook, pointing to the large bowl of it right in front of him, "If you make any more of it, we'll be eating it until Memorial Day."
"Iiff yord sayen," the Chef shrugged, "Nexten menu itemen roost lobster. Hieren lobster, lobster, lobster."
He reached into a nearby crate and extracted Polly Lobster from it. Polly took one look at the boiling pot he was carrying her toward and pinched his nose. "OOOOWWWWW, weiden doot that!" the Chef howled, dropping Polly to the table.
"If I wanted to go in a hot tub, pal, I'd have bought one of my own!" Polly told him, "Come on guys, we don't have to stick around for this dinner!"
Almost a dozen lobsters poured out of the crate, evading the Chef's attempts to grab them all up. They rushed for the kitchen door, bowling over Rizzo as he came in. "Hey, what is this, the Lobsterapolis 500?" the rat complained, heaving himself back to his feet.
"Ratten alerten!" the Chef started tossing various cooking utensils at Rizzo, forcing him to duck to safety under the sink. "Cut it out!" Rizzo shouted at him, "I just came in to say that Ernie and Bert brought some old Christmas films with them, and they'll be running them in the theater in ten minutes!"
"There's a theater in here too?" Alan asked Emily in amazement.
"It was Fozzie's idea," the older bear told him, "He thought we could have a specific place to air films and perform this year, just so we could ease overcrowding a little bit."
"Say, is my cheese cannoli almost done, Mrs. Sinclair?" Rizzo pressed Fran.
"I'm working on it," Fran told him, "Try to have patience."
"Have patience? When I haven't eaten since last night?" Rizzo griped, "If I wanted to have patience, I would have become a doctor."
"Funny, very funny," Doc remarked as the rat staggered back out the door with comical hunger exaggeration (he'd joined the cooking staff a half hour earlier at Kermit's request, as they had still been way behind with the food for dinner), "I could swear the rat could be a better comedian than the bear."
"Huh?" Fozzie unexpectedly stuck his head in through the door.
"Nothing, nothing," the inventor waved him off, "Weren't you telling that joke about the sloth and the construction worker?"
"They heckled me off," Fozzie pointed glumly at Statler and Waldorf on the sofa, "I swear they never give up, even for Christmas."
He shrugged and left. No sooner had he left than Grover appeared. "Pardon me," the monster announced, "But are you still looking for qualified waiters to serve the food?"
"If you have experience, certainly," Emily said.
"Have I got experience?" Grover's chest swelled with pride, "You are looking at the finest waiter at Charlie's Restaurant, Mrs. Bear. When you see me at work, you will know what precision serving is."
He left the kitchen. "Dr. Honeydew, pass along some of your All-Purpose Tenderizer," Nigel called to Bunsen, "This stuffing's hard as a brick."
"That's because it IS a brick," Mr. Macintosh pulled a brick out of the pot in front of Nigel, "I told Oscar to stay out of…"
"Hey, we need a hundred and nine cheeseburgers," Scred staggered into through the door.
"What do you mean cheeseburgers, pal?" Doc raised his eyebrows, "This is a Christmas dinner; we're not cooking cheeseburgers."
"I've got the orders right here," Scred held it up. With his other hand, he pointed around the living room at everyone in it at the moment, "Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger…"
"What's this you're holding?" Doc yanked a flask out of Scred's hand, "You've been stocking up on the liquor, haven't you, you uncouth extraterrestrial?"
"Cut me a break, ever since Gorch burned down, I've had to hoard," Scred protested, "Get the cheeseburgers ready; everyone's hungry."
He stumbled drunkenly back out the door. "I swear some of these people are even weirder than weird," Doc confided in Alan, "Heaven help us if he starts doing Samurai Delicatessen."
Alan grunted in agreement. It was then that the timer on his stove went off, indicating the final batch of cookies he'd put in was done. He pulled them out of the oven and laid the pan next to the five dozen others he'd managed to bake over the last hour. "Those smell wonderful," Emily complimented him, "You can take a break now; there's not much left to whip up. You really helped us here a lot."
"Glad to know I could be of some help, Mrs. Bear," Alan told her. He took off his apron and strolled out into the living room, where Clifford and the Electric Mayhem were performing on the large stage with Christmas lights all around that they'd erected in the corner. "You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear," Floyd Pepper was crooning as he strummed away hard on his guitar, "Voices singing let's be jolly, deck the halls with boughs of holly."
"Rocking around the Christmas tree; have a happy holidays," Janice sang out, "Everyone dancing merrily…"
"IN THE NEW OLD FASHIONED WAAAAAAAAYYYYY!" all seven band members on stage sang the finale together, capped by a final saxophone blast from Zoot. A decent applause swept the room from the various people that had been watching the performance. "Brilliant!" Statler proclaimed from his sofa seat in the back.
"Ah, it was terrible!" Waldorf snorted.
"Enlightening!" his brother-in-law countered.
"Dismal!" Waldorf grumbled.
"Yeah, it was pretty dismal," Statler abruptly agreed. No one on stage seemed to notice this dismissal of their talents. "And now for your listening pleasure," Clifford addressed everyone, "Our friends in the Frogtown Hollow Jug Band would like to play a more contemporary holiday favorite. Hit it, boys."
He pointed to a smaller stage next to the one they were one. Wendell blew the first few notes of the song across his jug. His band mates joined in after a few notes. "The mood is right," they all sang together, "The party's up, we're here tonight, and that's enough. Simply having a wonderful Christmastime, we're simply having a wonderful Christmastime…"
"Ah, nothing perks you up like Christmas music," came Miss Piggy's voice from behind Alan. The pig was leaning against the mantle, a bizarre expression of bliss blanketing her face. "Well, I suppose so," the human agreed, "Although Christmases when I was young weren't quite so merry, Piggy. You see,…"
"The roaring fire, the brightly-lit tree, the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling," Piggy leaned across his chest, not paying any attention, "The moment is ripe for romance, as it will be for the frog of my dreams and moi once we finally get together tonight and make beautiful Christmas music together."
Alan found himself chuckling softly again. "Well, all I can say is, even offstage you're still a ham," he remarked innocently.
"WHAT?" Piggy gave him an offended glare, "Don't talk vulgar to me, buddy! HIIIIIIIYYYAAAAAA!"
She karate chopped him in the chest and skulked off. Susan approached Alan as he doubled over. "Do you need some first aid?" she asked him.
"No, I think I'm all right," he told her, "She just caught me by surprise, that's all."
He took several deep breaths and rose upright again. "So, this is the first time you and Mr. Robinson have been here?" he asked her.
"Yes," Susan informed him, "We may not even have known about it at all. A lot of the people on the street decided to go caroling up in Steelville last year, and they sort of ended up here almost by accident. They said it was the best Christmas they'd had, so we had to come see for ourselves. I do like it; it's a nice respite from the inner city. I'm surprised you would even be out on the roads today though, Mr. Reiser."
"Well, we were all so eager to see Alicia again," Alan told her, "Now with this mess out there, I don't know if we'll get the chance. And if what Dr. Leiderkrantz said was true last time, then it may be her last…"
He couldn't finish. "I know," Susan looked depressed herself, "It's always sad to see a terminal illness at the Clinic in kids so young. And Christine's someone who really didn't deserve it."
"Tell me, do you as a nurse see any possibility he might have gotten it wrong to a degree?" Alan had to know, "Any small chance it might not be the end if…"
"I'm sorry Mr. Reiser, but I'm afraid her condition is terminal," Susan shook her head sadly, "There's simply no other way around it. One thing you should be thankful for is that you have the insurance for her; half the people I treat don't have any medical coverage at…AAAAAAAAHHHHH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
For Animal was now leaning into her leg. "WO-MAN, WO-MAN!" the Electric Mayhem's drummer was yelling loudly.
"GORRRRRDOOOONNNNN!" Susan shrieked. Moments later Gordon came stomping across the room and pried Animal off his wife's leg. "Get your own woman!" he ordered the drummer.
"Sorry," Animal shuffled off. It was at this very moment that Christine and Big Bird came in from outside, the latter with snow all over his feathers. "So, did you enjoy sledding?" Alan asked his daughter.
"A lot," Christine told him. She glanced up at Susan. "Were you talking about what Dr. Leiderkrantz said? Am I going to be all right?"
"Sure you are, sweetheart," Alan hugged her tight. He glanced at the Robinsons and mouthed, "I just can't tell her."
"Well that snow sure is getting a whole lot worse," Big Bird remarked as he hung his scarf up on the coat rack and shook the snow out of his plumage in front of the fireplace, "I hope Santa's got strong headlights on his sleigh tonight."
"So let me get this straight," Wembley piped up from the fireplace mantle, on which he and the other Fraggles were now sitting enjoying the songs, "At the top of Outer Space there lives a Silly Creature who dresses all in red and flies through the air to give people presents?"
"Absolutely," Big Bird said.
"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Red grumbled, "Flying reindeer? I mean look at them," she pointed a reindeer on one of the stocking hung by the fireplace, "I'd believe a Doozer could fly more easily than those things. And how does he manage to get around the whole world in a single night?"
"I've got some theories," Rugby spoke up from under the tree, where he and several other familiar toys were lying unwrapped, "Of course, since I was wrapped up the whole time, I can't verify anything, but…"
"Well, we might find out for sure tonight," Big Bird proclaimed, "I'm going to check out the chimney later tonight and find out for sure how it works."
"Now Big Bird," Gordon admonished him, "We had an agreement you would not go running off trying to prove something you don't have to again."
"But Gordon, this is different this time!" the canary protested, "You'll know exactly where I am! And I'll take an extra…!"
Kermit appeared at that moment in the doorway the hotel section of the house. "The film will be starting in three minutes," he announced over the megaphone he was holding, "Everyone who wants to reserve a seat come and……AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
The frog was run over by a mass stampede of people running for the theater. "Sheesh, if I'd known they wanted to see it that badly…" he commented.
"What exactly's on the film?" Christine asked Kermit, helping him up.
"Bert and Ernie won't tell me, they say it's a surprise," Kermit explained, "I think you'll like it though."
The frog walked up the stairs to the projection booth at the top of the theater. Inside Bert was almost done threading the film into the projector. "How long's this supposed to last, you guys?" he asked them, "Not to complain, but as you know, some of these people can be antsy if something goes on too long."
"About ten, fifteen minutes, I guess," Ernie shrugged, "I think we were able to find about six or seven good sequences to put in this."
"That should do it right, I think," Kermit nodded. He took hold of the microphoneinside the projection booth. "Everyone seated and ready?" he asked everyone filing into the auditorium, "Is Animal all chained up?"
"WHOOOOAAAAA!" came a loud cry from the front row as Telly, who'd been unlucky enough to get a broken seat, fell forward, spilling the popcorn he'd brought with him everywhere. Next to him, Oscar snickered. "This is no time for fall, Telly," he derided the monster, "Winter already started a few days ago."
"I don't get it, Oscar," Telly looked puzzled.
"You wouldn't," the grouch told him. "Could you two goofballs start this up so we can get it over with?" he shouted up impatiently at the booth.
"Film all set, Bert?" Ernie asked his friend.
"All ready to go, Ernie," Bert closed the cover over the film and put his thumb by the start switch.
"Quiet in the room," Kermit called out over the microphone, "Dim the lights and roll it, Bert." Moments later after the countdown on the film had run its course, the frog shrieked in shock and jumped in front of the projector lens as a picture of several deer and the words STAG REEL appeared on the screen. "Don't anyone look!" he cried out, "Ernie, I thought this was a holiday film?"
"It's on here somewhere; let me see that, Bert," Ernie pushed his roommate aside and turned the projector's dial ahead. "Hey, this is neat," he exclaimed, pointing at the images shooting by on the screen very rapidly, "It's almost more entertaining than this would be at normal speed. We should watch it like this."
"Ernie, you've gone past it!" Bert cried, "Go back!"
"If you say so," Ernie rewound the tape. "I like this device," he remarked, "Just think, we can go back and forth," he abruptly turned the film forward again at high speed, "Back," he rewound it again, "And forth, back and forth, and the picture looks kind of funny too."
"Will you cut that out Ernie," Bert shouted at him, "You're going to wear the film out and break the projector!"
"But this is so much fun, Bert, back and forth, back and forth, we should do this back on Sesame Street to demonstrate forward and backwards," Ernie said in self-defense. It was at this moment that the film broke. Smoke poured from the projector. "EERRRRRRRRRRNNIIIEEEEEEEEE!" Bert screamed at him, "Now you've gone and done it! We can't show the film now!"
"Relax Bert, I brought a spare projector just in case," Ernie walked to the back of the booth and hefted an identical projector, with the film already in place. "You did?" Bert frowned, "You mean you just did what you did DELIBERATELY?"
"Oh well, as long as the film itself still works," Kermit helped pushed the wasted projector aside and the new one into place. "Rolling," he called out loud, flicking on the switch himself. For a few seconds the screen remained white. Then a dog sled ran toward the camera, with the viewpoint zooming in on the large number 1 on the musher's chest. When it filled the screen, a drum roll began, which precipitated two consecutive 10 counts on psychedelic backgrounds. "One two three four five six seven eight nine ten," counted a woman's voice over a hand counting along with her.
"Wait, haven't we seen this before," Kermit frowned, "This ran for years and…"
"No, it's the special holiday version you never saw before," Ernie corrected him, "Remember how there were never versions for number 1? They were supposed to be run in December. Watch."
The screen now featured a single tap-dancing snowman. It strutted sideways and fell off a cliff, falling apart as it did so. Some of its snowflakes morphed into a white bird, which flew up out of frame as the woman laconically buzzed, "One," several times. The sun rose up from below and immediately "froze" into a crescent moon. It then started spinning around and became a large snowball, which rolled down a hill. "Oooooonee!" the woman cried out on the soundtrack one more time as the snowball hit an ice wall and transformed into a large blue 1. Two more 10 counts rolled, followed by the ten familiar spies opening their coats to the tune of, "One two three four five six seven eight NIIIINE, TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"
"Lame!" Statler yelled from the front row once the numbers had enlarged to black out the screen.
"Boring!" Waldorf concurred.
"Completely tripped out!" Statler added.
"Well, at least they didn't edit it for no reason," Waldorf reasoned.
"Yeah, good point," conceded his brother-in-law.
The next film appeared on the screen. This one was a live action piece that featured several children of all ethnic backgrounds hanging holiday decorations around an urban neighborhood to the tune of "Feliz Navidad." "Stupid!" Oscar could be heard yelling at the screen in front row, "This is a 5 Phooey flick for sure!"
"Well I like it Oscar," Telly remarked, rocking along with the song as the children started decorating a makeshift Christmas tree, "I'd give it four Wows."
"Yeah, well this isn't Sneak Peak Previews, and thus you can't give out wows," Oscar reminded him, "So it's trash and thus Phooeys."
"Wows."
"Phooeys."
"Wows."
"Phooeys."
"Will you two cork it!" Kermit shouted down over the microphone, causing everyone in the theater to turn upwards and whisper, "SSSSSHHHHHHHHH!" at him. "Boy, rough crowd," the frog shrugged, backing away from the window.
The next segment started. "One," whispered a quartet of female singers, followed by the shot of an arm pulling back the handle of a familiar pinball machine. "One two three four five, six seven eight nine ten, eleven twelve," the singers announced out loud as the pinball rolled down into play.
"I can see why Silly Creatures end up being silly," Boober commented from the middle row, "Watching things like this all day can turn your mind to rot."
"Well I find it enlightening, little Boober," Mokey told him. She drew a quick picture of the inside of the pinball machine just before the ball disappeared down the hole to the segment of the day, "Although I have no clue what this is supposed to mean, I can see high artistic quality in it. If we can figure out how this works, we could do this back in Fraggle Rock."
"You'd have to capture that magical beam of light," Matt pointed up at the projector's light streaking toward the screen, "The silly creatures lock the picture inside of it. I noticed that when I saw one of these things about a Silly Creature that dresses up like a flying rodent to deter evil a few months back. Very strange."
"Speaking of strange Uncle Matt, what is that strange round thing supposed to be doing?" Gobo gestured at the film. The pinball was rolling across an Arctic environment. It rolled underneath a seal, causing it to clap its flippers. Then it knocked down a row of penguins as the singers proclaimed "One," together. The ball then tapped a polar bear, which made a leaping motion onto its hind legs, and ricocheted into a hole in the ice. A whale surfaced and spouted the ball into the air, where it landed in the back of Santa's sleigh flying overhead. The jolly old elf picked it up and dropped it down through a chimney below and out of play.
"Absolutely nothing," Matt informed his nephew as the pinball finished its run by rolling up the exit ramp, "This is another strange thing that silly creatures do for entertainment; they shoot those metal balls around a box for no reason at all. You would have to see it to believe it. Now what have we here?"
A British flag filled the screen. It pulled back to reveal the words MONSTERPIECE THEATER. The seen faded to a familiar study. "Good evening, and happy holidays, me Alistair Cookie," said the host, puffing away on his pipe, "Welcome to Monsterpiece Theater. Tonight, in time for Christmas, we present holiday classic, 'Miracle on 34th Street.' Me not seen it yet, but me know it take place on 34th Street. And now, 'Miracle on 34th Street."
"Me superstar!" the real Cookie Monster applauded from the back row, "Thanks Ern."
Ernie leaned out the booth window and gave his friend a thumbs-up. On screen now, the Count was leaning against a signpost when a generic businessman came up to him. "Pardon me sir, but can you direct me to 34th Street?" he asked him, "I need to find a miracle there."
"You have come to the right person," the vampire proclaimed, "I, Count von Count can easily count you up to 34th Street. Now, we are here at 1st Street. Follow me this way," he led the man to the right, "And here we are at 2nd Street, and if we go further, 3rd Street, and further…"
"Is this going to go on forever?" Oscar shouted out loud, "Because I already can't stand it!"
"I like that grouch," Waldorf asided to Statler, "He's our kind of guy."
Finally the Count and his associate reached 34th Street. "Thirty-four, thirty-four marvelous streets, ah ha ha ha ha ha!" the vampire laughed, causing the prerequisite thunder and lightning to crash. "Yeah, yeah, I know," the man with him grimaced, ducking low to avoid a direct lightning strike, "Now I need to find that miracle."
"I see it," the Count announced.
"You do, where?" the man asked him.
"Right in front of us, there are more streets before us!" the vampire gushed, "We can count them all! Come, let us count. Thirty-five, thirty-five beautiful streets! Thirty-six, thirty-six marvelous streets! Thirty-seven….!"
"And there you have it, 'Miracle on 34th Street,'" Alistair Cookie told the audience, "From all of us at Monsterpiece Theater, we wish you merry Christmas, and all those other holidays too."
He devoured his pipe as the end music came up. A new laugh filled the air in the second row at this, one that hadn't been heard before. Alan turned to his right. "So you actually liked that, Zack?" he asked his son, relieved to have heard the laughter; it had been so long since Zachary actually had laughed at anything.
"Well, sort of," the boy said quickly, apparently embarrassed to a degree that he'd given away his feelings.
"It's nothing to be ashamed about at all," his father hugged him close, "I'm glad you're enjoying a little bit of this. Are you making friends with some of the people here?"
"They're nice," Zachary told him, "But I still miss Mom."
"I know," Alan rubbed his hair, "But I'll bet she's at the airport right now, waiting to get on the plane here. You don't have anything to worry about, trust me."
