Tuesday, January 19, 2010

FFF #17 - Part lll - The Muppet Caper

And here is my third story for the FFF Challenge this week. This time with Lewis J's fine starter sentence. You never know what you can do until you try. Had a blast doing this.

It might be a good idea to place in this Forward a warning of sorts. This is a twisted tale from the dark underbelly of PBS. But isn't most good fun twisted at least a little.

The Muppet Caper

As soon as he heard the cell phone notify receipt of the text message he knew there was no going back. Manta glanced at his Glock. Safety was off, and the silencer wound on tight. He didn’t want the damn thing to fall off like it did that time he was just drawing a bead on Curious George. Manta was ready. Without another thought, Manta kicked in the door of apartment 5G.

Fozzy Bear was seated behind a desk on the left side of the living room. When the door exploded, Fozzy Bear dove for his weapon. Too late. Manta did a tuck n roll perfectly and came up with his laser sight centered on Fozzy’s face. The bear stopped and put out his paws. “Dude, whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it. The Muppets gig has treated me …………” Fozzy’s head exploded into a cloud of cotton stuffing.


“Ray, Why do they call you Manta?”

Manta looked up from the beer sitting in front of him. “Gee dumass, maybe it’s my head. I mean come on. It’s flat and my eyes are on top…………Oh, I see. You think it’s because of my first name. Well Mom and Dad might have been nothing but a couple of sharks, but they did have a sense of humor.

Manta returned to staring his beer down.

“Well Ray, uh, I mean Manta, you followed through wonderfully. Taking Fozzy out is one more Muppet down. The folks over to Sesame Street will be thrilled.

Manta wasn't interested in having his butt kissed. “Just pay me and I will be on my way. While your stupid internal feud with The Muppets has been good for my bank account, I think I am done now. Blowing away puppets just doesn’t seem right. I think it takes a harder man than me to off children’s toys. Or maybe I’m just locating some ethics. Imagine that?”

“Manta, You can’t mean that? Come on Ray.” Manta turned and stared hard at the puppet speaking to him. “ Oh sorry Manta. I keep forgetting. Manta instead of Ray. There’s a reason they call me Forgetful Jones you know. …… Regardless Manta, I don’t think you understand. You are done when I say so. Maybe you ought to take a peek at the photo again.” Forgetful Jones tossed a tired and bent Polaroid picture on the bar.

Manta did not move. The one eye on the right twitched, turned and gave Forgetful Jones one of his infamous and disconcerting side long glances. “Yeah I know. You have Cabbage Patch. So what? She’s old news and a ho’ anyhow. I have a new squeeze now. One you assholes will never be able to hold over me.”

Forgetful wasn’t that easily fooled. “Oh yeah? Suppose I give Oscar the Grouch a call. He’d like nothing more than for me to flip the green light to de-stuff the bitch. That sick puppet just loves eating button eyes and nibbling on dainty doll shoes……with the feet still attached. Christ, he lives in a garbage can.”

Forgetful Jones paused. Looking up to the end of the bar, he raised his puppet hand in that universal gesture, “Hey barkeep, need some beer here.”

Leaning in close, Forgetful Jones whispered into what passed for one of Manta’s ears. “Bub, you can be the tough guy out here in the real world, but we both know you have a weak spot for Cabbage Patch.” In his stubby four fingered hand, Forgetful clenched a plain pink envelope. He slid it across the bar in front of Manta.

“Your money is inside. So’s your next hit. Same money. Get it done or Cabbage Patch gets slawed. Beer’s on me.”

Forgetful Jones tossed money on the bar, stood up and left.


“So it is you they sent. I knew it was coming. But why you? We have history Manta. Must be a big paycheck waiting for this hit.”

“No Clarissa, this job pays the same. I hope you know it’s just business. Nothing personal………Aht aht aht…….please don’t move.”

Clarissa stopped as if frozen. She smiled. “You know Manta, you are the only one of my many lovers I allowed to call me by my given name.” Clarissa straightened up and turned to face Manta. Still smiling she continued, “I hate to tell you this, but..........I really will miss you.”

A trap door under Manta opened. On his way down he pondered just how he hadn’t seen the ole hole in the floor trick coming. Damn that Miss Piggy. She was one smart pig.


David Barber said...

Bravo! More....more!

Top job Mike. You have been a busy boy! Keep it up, mate.

Übermilf said...

This is way better than the Muppet Caper my kids watch.

Dawn on MDI said...

Piggy with a pierced nipple? You, sir, are one sick fuck. Nicely done!

Doc said...

And Big Bird is putting up the money from selling the wrong kind of brownies from the back of Hooper's store.

It is a great tale as you really seem to be stretching your wings a bit, but the picture at the end really sealed the deal! Never trust anything with that much bacon.

You have every reason to be very proud of these tales. Each one is solid, quality work. Not to mention that you took on, not one, but all three, and didn't try to cobble them together into one post. You took each in it's turn and gave them a grand story.

My hat is off to you,

Randal Graves said...

THREE tales? No one likes an overachiever, Maine. That said, this one was seriously fucked up. Loved it. (and the others, too)

BBC said...

Rolls eyes....