Friday, July 21, 2006

Super Grover: How I got my Super Hero Hat Part 3

Chapter 4 of the Super Grover Memoir: “Super Grover and His Super Letters of Super Legendary Acts of Superness," begins where chapter 3 left off.

Chapter 3: How I got my Super Hero Hat Part 2
Chapter 2: How I got my Super Hero Hat Part 1
Chapter 1: How I Got My Cape

A Grateful and Loving Grover

Hi Boys and Girls,
This is your pal Grover, the greatest, best, and most amazing super hero the universe has ever witnessed. This is part three of how I got my most amazing Super Hero Hat. You must listen to it because it is so amazing.

As I was saying before the bathroom mirror reflected a sad reality for Super Grover. I was hoping that the super hero cape would give me super hero strength, but sadly it wouldn't. Maybe the cape was broken or maybe it didn't have that feature installed. I had no idea boys and girls.

When I got back to Martha she told me that I was going to be in the show that night.

"Me, a lowly stable boy," I asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, we need a minstrel or something. Just put on that feather hat, ride Harold into the town set and announce yourself in front of the king," said Martha.

"Then what do I do," I asked.

"Aren't you the inquisitive one? Look, there is a script right here for you. Memorize the lines and everything should be ok. I'll tell you when to go out. Ok," said Martha handing me a sheet of paper.

I looked at the script and my heart sank. Although there were only 4-5 lines, I couldn't make heads or tails out of it. There were all this fancy language like Yee, Cometh,Ol', and sire. "What the hell," I thought to myself, "I'll just make it up as I go along."

"Did you say something," said Martha with her hands on her hips.

"Uhhh no...," I said looking down at my feet.

"Ok, then... be dressed and ready at 6:00pm. Ok," asked Martha.

"Yeah whatever you say," I said.

This was going to be tough Boys and Girls. If Grover failed at this, he could just kiss the hat goodbye forever. There was no way Martha was going to stand any sort of nonsense. I tried to memorize the script for 5 minutes, but it was so boring and stupid. Then I guess I fell asleep.

"Grover, what the hell are you doing," asked a red faced Martha.

"Nothing, nothing at all. I was just..," I stammered.

"Did you memorize those lines," asked Martha.

"Sure, yeah. Of course I did," I lied.

"Good, because you need to be ready in 5 minutes. Get dressed," commanded Martha.

The clothes fit surprisingly well, which is strange. Usually muppet clothes are much smaller than human clothes. I never liked wearing clothes to be honest with you. I'm the kind of muppet who lets it all hang out.

Riding Harold the horse was going to be easy. He seemed pretty calm in comparison to the other horses. He still smelled, but I guess all horses do. That's something I learned from my stint as a horse track jockey prior to working at Sesame Street. I never won any races, perhaps that is why I got fired after a month. Then again it could be the fact that the stable master caught me making out with his wife. It's not my fault that Grover is so sexy.

"Ok, you're on Grover. Good Luck," said fat Martha.

"Grover doesn't need luck," I said in a menacing voice.

"What," asked Martha.

"Nothing," I said getting onto Harold.

When Harold stepped into the arena, I got nervous. There were thousands of people and they were all staring at us.

"Hark, I see someone arriving, fair king," said a goofy looking chap sitting next to the king.

"State your name, good sir," said the king.

"Grover. The name is Grover," I said flatly rolling my eyes.

"Do you stayeth to watch the tournament," asked the goofy chap.

"Yeah well, sure. It sure beats shoveling horse poop," I stated.

"Then we welcome with outstretched arms, good sir. Pulleth a chair and feast," said the goofy chap.

"You want me to do what? Speak English, you little turd," I screamed at him.

"Pulleth a chair and watch the tourney," said the chap nervously.

"Speak English damnit," I yelled. I could feel my blue shag fur standing on end. This turd was slaughtering the English language. Nothing pisses off Grover more than poor grammar skills.

"Pulleth a chair. Get off the horse and pulleth a chair," said the chap backing away.

"That's right damnit. You better walk away. No one slaughters English and gets away with it. I'll cut you up," I yelled getting off Harold.

"Calm down Grover," said the King. "We must be good in front of the guests."

"No one tells me to calm down. I quit this crappy job! Screw you Martha! Screw you king! Screw you guests," I shouted.

Then I saw Martha coming across the arena. She looked angry for some reason.

"Why didn't you memorize the lines Grover? Why? Why are you doing this," asked Martha.

I could hear the crowd booing. People were throwing their food. Some even got up and left. They obviously did not like Martha or appreciate her style of management.

"Shut up Martha, you've been on my case since the day I arrived," I shouted.

"I've been nothing but nice to you. I even put you in the show tonight," said Martha.

"But you didn't make me a knight! You did make me shovel poop! What do I look like to you, a poo boy? Do you look at Grover and think, man this boy and poop go together like peanut butter and jelly? Forget it Martha, Grover is on to you," I screamed.

"Get out. Just leave. Medieval Times doesn't need a hooligan like you around; you ungrateful little blue freak," said Martha.

"By the way, you're fat and nobody loves you not even your cats," I yelled walking out of the arena.

"I'm big boned thank you very much," said Martha. "And I think my cats like me although not as much as they like my sister. Shut up Grover!"

"Go to hell Martha," I screamed.

It's not easy sometimes being Grover, boys and girls. I know that witch had it coming to her. She was on my case since day one. A muppet has to do what a muppet has to do. I was feeling a bit blue though. More blue than usual. I was never going to get that hat now. Perhaps I could steal it, but that would be too much work.

I was in a bit of a funk for a couple of days. I didn't go out with Gordon and Louis on Friday. I just didn't feel up to it. Besides Big Bird would be there and we all know how much I hate him. I decided to see Oscar instead. Oscar is always in a perpetually bad mood so it made no difference if I was in a funk. Sometimes his moods were so bad, that I would instantly feel better. I talked with him earlier in the week and he made me smile a little bit. It was going to take a bit more though to get me out of this funk.

"Why so glum, chum," asked Oscar when I arrived.

"I will never get that hat I need for flying now," I said with tears in my eyes.

"I thought you said, that you couldn't pick it up anyways," said Oscar.

"Yeah, but.... Maybe I could if I," I stammered.

"Well, what good is it," asked Oscar.

"I thought I could bulk up," I said.

"Wait a second, I got something for you," said Oscar.

He disappeared into his trash can for about a minute. I could hear all this rustling and banging. At one point it even looked like the can was going to tip over.

Oscar's trash can is infinitely big. A muppet could get lost in there. I know from experience. I don't know how it could be so vast when it looks so small from the outside. I suppose it is like a mystery of the universe or something. Anyways, Oscar appeared again with a huge grin on his face.

"Ta da," said Oscar.

"The hat, but how," I asked.

There was a huge smile on my face. I was happier than the time that I caught a peek of Maria changing in her apartment.

"I made it in my metal shop. It's made out of light weight but durable aluminum. Less heavy than that other helmet. Not bad, huh," asked a smiling grouch.

"No, oh my God. Thank you," I said.

Tears were welling up in my eyes as I went to pick up the helmet from Oscar's green hands. Sure enough, it was light and it seemed durable too. I put it on nervously.

"How do I look," I asked.

"Like a little blue freak with a knight's helmet on," said Oscar.

"Perfect," I said. "How can I ever thank you? This is too much."

"Just shut up already, you're making me upset," said the grouch.

"No, this is amazing," I said.

"Alright, I'm out of here," said Oscar.

In one quick swoop he disappeared into the universe of garbage. What a grouch! What a thoughtful and loving grouch! Oscar was never much for displaying affection although I know he secretly craved it. He is truly a good and generous friend; he just has a street cred to maintain. Life is hard when you are the resident grouch.

I went home wearing the helmet. I was so happy. I had what I needed to be a real super hero, a cape, a helmet, and the ability to fly. Nothing was going to stop me now. I was going to be the world's greatest super hero.

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Blogger melanaise said...

OSCAR made it- yay!!!! He has the coolest house ever!!

okay, I can't stop laughing...

7/23/2006 07:59:00 AM  
Blogger melanaise said...

Now for my real comment...That was so perfectly written, the perfect ending.

You do realize that Tom should be making movies, and you should be writing books...or a ombination of the two...do you mind if link this up tomorrow or sometime this week?

7/23/2006 12:50:00 PM  
Blogger Mike K said...

By all means, link a way. Thanks for the positive comments. I actually want to be an author some day. Obviously I would have to make up my own characters rather than use Jim Henson ones. However, it works in the blog since it takes too long just to develop a character.

7/23/2006 05:48:00 PM  
Blogger melanaise said...

you should do a flicker of all your pics like I tried to do.

I am also an actual writer. I keep getting approached by some publisher and I am such a lazy ass, chicken that I have never let anyone read my stuff...they found it and approached me.

so now I have a dorky weblog. *shiteating grin*

7/25/2006 05:44:00 PM  

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