Part VII: Flashpoint

Kermit and Piggy stared each other down for several long, tense moments.

"Miss Piggy."

"Kermie."

More silence.

"You just can't treat people this way, Piggy. You scared Fozzie so bad, he was hiding under the furniture."

"I maintain that bear has always had a naturally weak constitution."

"We're supposed to be having fun."

Piggy scoffed. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm having a laugh a minute," she said sarcastically. "What with having to keep track of the costumes, the props, the cameras, as well as all of the actors and their lines and choreography." Then, before she could think better of it, she added, "You have no idea the kind of stress I'm under."

"You're right," said Kermit, responding with his own sarcasm. "I have no idea. It's only the stress I've been living with for fifty years!"

Piggy blushed and remained quiet, but Kermit took no notice. He was so angry, that he had lost his position, that she had yelled at his best friend, that he barreled right on: "And Fozzie's right! You have been changing your mind every three seconds. No wonder everyone's confused. No wonder everyone's messing up."

Piggy felt tears well up but fought them back. She couldn't bring herself to admit it out loud, but she too knew Fozzie was right. But it was only because she kept trying to do things the way Kermit would. She was trying to stay faithful to his vision. But, lacking Kermit's magic touch, doing so was easier said than done. She couldn't help constantly second- and triple-guessing herself.

Piggy opened her mouth, to explain why—

"I can't believe you were made the director. You must be the worst director ever."

—and shut her mouth again. "The worst director ever?" she repeated in disbelief. "You gotta be kidding me. Listen, frog, even Steven Spielberg couldn't do anything with the script I've got."

Kermit gasped. He had put his all into that script. "What are you talking about? What are you saying about the script?"

"It stinks! It stinks like Animal right before bath day!" Once she'd said it, she wished she hadn't. She didn't mean it. But it was too late now. Might as well keep going. "And why wasn't there any romantic subplot written into it, Kermit? All of our movies have that, it's what the public will expect."

"That's not true. It's what you expect." Kermit shook his head. He remembered what the studio head had said about him being yesterday's news and blurted out, "Maybe I was tired of it. You're the only one allowed to try something new, to reinvent?"

Miss Piggy angrily turned her back on him. You mean you were tired of moi, she thought. "Ha! Good luck with your 'reinvention'. You'll need all the luck you can get."

Something about Piggy turning her back to him was the final straw for Kermit. "I don't need luck," he told her, "and I don't need this. I quit!"

Piggy was genuinely shocked. He quit? That was inconceivable. Kermit couldn't … quit. Could he?

But once again, her anger got the better of her. "You can't quit!" she yelled. "Because you're fired!"