All the World's a Stage - Chapter 11 (Patreon)

A proper stage was set up now. Lousy ninja, many of the citizens thought, watching the space be empty one moment and then, while no one was watching, suddenly there was a stage. Why couldn’t they build houses quickly like that?

It wasn’t a large stage, but those who knew what it was for recognized that it didn’t need to be to do its job. A black curtain formed the background, and a red curtain framed either side.

Ondori, wearing ninja blacks complete with hood, stepped on to the stage to bow; it was only just barely tall enough for him. Ozu stood next to him, and to the surprise of some, Sasori did as well.

The gathering audience clapped politely. A donation plate was set in front of the stage, and while the performers went behind the curtain to prepare a few watchers went ahead and dropped a few ryo inside.

Sawa appeared, mostly to offer folding chairs to small children, mothers and elders. Once everyone who wanted a seat had one, and the audience was as full as it could be without blocking the street, a drumroll rang out, silencing the crowd.

A green frog in a green collar ran out on stage, limbs flapping excitedly. “Welcome, welcome! It’s the very first Muppet Show, and boy we’re glad to have you! Boy, we’ve got a pretty impressive crowd today. I am Kermit the Frog, and I’m your host! Boy oh boy do we have a program for you folks tonight. We have new faces from new places, old faces kept in stasis, and acts that will make you laugh, cry and, er, pay, we hope.”

Yaji and Chosho laughed from where they were seated in a nearby balcony overlooking the street.

“Oh don’t worry, Frog, we’re paying for it!”

Kermit’s face fell. “Speaking of old faces. Hey, you two, does the owner of that shop know you’re up there?”

The two old men looked at each other. “No? Why would they?”

“I thought not. Nevermind that!” Kermit rallied. “For our opening act, with thanks to our dear friends at the Suna Puppet Brigade, I present to you…”

Kermit pulled a sheet of paper from behind his back and inspected it. A look of confusion stole across his face.

“Er, I don’t remember this… Uh, I present to you: Mah Na Mah Na! …Whatever that is.”

---------------------------

In the back of the crowd, sans his usual accouterments and under a minor henge, Satoshi watched as a small wild-haired muppet rambled nonsensically to the rhythm of a simple song, while his two pink backup singers expressed their distaste for him.

“I admit that I’m not seeing the appeal,” he said quietly.

Rasa, beside him, murmured noncommittally. On Rasa’s other side however, Karura rubbed her chin.

“I’m not sure,” she said haltingly. “It’s cute. Strange, though.”

“It’s a waste of time and resources,” Satoshi said. “Two promising shinobi and Chiyo-sama’s own grandson are spending time doing this when they could be--”

“Training?” Karura finished. “Don’t you shinobi ever do anything but train?”

“Dear,” Rasa said, and she quieted down.

(On stage, the singing creature ran off stage past Kermit, who was standing off to the side. The creature continued to sing, shouting as it got further and further away before vanishing into an alley.)

“He’s gotten good at throwing his voice,” Rasa noted.

(A harsh buzz filled the air, and Kermit picked a walkie-talkie up from behind the red curtain. “Hello? Okay, I’ll tell them.”)

Satoshi frowned. “Where did he get that? The village only has a handful of those.”

(Kermit walked onstage to hand the communicator to the pink things. “It’s for you.”

“Mah na mah na.”)

-----------------------------

“The question is,” Yaji began, “What is a Mahna Mahna?”

Choshu waved him off. “The real question is: Who cares?”

Kermit cleared his throat. “Well, that sure was something. I don’t know what, but it was something.” He paused to let the audience chuckled. “Now, bear with me folks, but as the first of--”

A furry brown head poked out from behind the curtain. “Yes boss?”

Kermit jumped. “Wh--Fozzie!” he stage-whispered. “What are you doing coming on before I cue you?”

“I thought you did cue me!” Fozzie argued. “You said, ‘Bear! With me!’ and I thought--”

“No I didn’t! I said, bear with me.”

“That’s what I just said!”

“Will you get back there and wait for me to cue you?!”

“Alright! Alright!”

Kermit fidgeted and turned to face the audience again. “Er. Er. Sorry about that little interruption. Where was I? Right. Ahem. Bear with me, folks, but as the first of our--”

Fozzie appeared again, waving. “Heya heya! Oh boy do I have some great jokes for you guys!”

“Fozzie!”

“What?”

“Wait for your cue!”

“But you said--”

“When it’s time for you to come on there will be a musical cue!”

“Well why didn’t you say that?”

“Why didn’t you read the script?!”

Fozzie pointed at him. “That… is because I forgot to.”

“Get out of here!”

Kermit took a deep, steadying breath, then very quickly said, “Introducing the first of our two new acts today, I present to you our new comedian Fozzie Bear!”

A triumphant horn played out as Fozzie rushed onstage, stepping in front of the disgruntled frog. He was a heavyset brown bear about four feet tall, wearing a cloth hat. Around his neck was a scarf patterned with the Hoshigakure star.

“Hiya hiya hiya! Just look at all the people! Boy, do I have some great jokes for you today!”

“I don’t know, do you?” Chosho called.

Fozzie stumbled. “I--Yeah, I do!”

“Like what?”

“Like, uh, like… Did you hear the one about the guy who got captured by ninja in the Land of Water? He will be Mist! Haaaa!”

Fozzie waited for applause. There were a few scattered chuckled.

“Huh. Uhhh, oh! Someone asked me if I took a bath today and I said, ‘Why, is there one missing?’ Ha!”

That one got more of a reaction, which Fozzie looked pleased by.

“Okay, one more; the other day I ran into this fellow who was loud and obnoxious--”

“You looked in a mirror?” Yaji asked loudly. The audience laughed, starting to realize that they were part of the show.

“Oh, ha ha, very funny!” Fozzie shouted back.

“One of us has to be! Hohoho!”

Fozzie stared at him, mouth agape. Then he turned back to the audience. “The other day I ran into this fellow who was so loud and obnoxious, I told him that he must have been from Konoha. He asked me, ‘How could you tell?’ and I said, ‘Because I want you to Leaf!’”

Yaji made a noise of exaggerated disgust. “Did you hear that, Chosho?”

“I surely did, Yaji,” the shorter man agreed.

Together, they said, “The bear’s from Konoha! Hohoho!”

“Wh--No! Wait!” Fozzie cried. “Don’t clap for them, clap for me!”

----------------------------

Satoshi shook his head as Kermit ran back onstage, shooing a sputtering Fozzie away to introduce the next act.

Beside him, Rasa was fighting down a smile while Kurara wasn’t bothering to hide her giggles. “Who are those two old men?” she asked.

“Yaji and Chosho,” the Kazekage supplied. “Members of Chiyo and Ebizo’s generation. They’ve retired from active duty but still work in the workshop. I don’t know what they think they’re doing as part of the show.”

“Possibly just enjoying themselves, Satoshi-sensei,” Rasa said. He hesitated, then added. “Kurara isn’t exactly wrong about even shinobi needing time to have fun.”

The Kazekage hummed. He didn’t quite believe that, mostly because he thought training was fun. However, it occurred to him that most ninja techniques weren’t as versatile as Iron Sand. He rarely had time to train these days, as Kage, but he could vaguely remember when he was first exploring his Magnetic Release… when he had more time to waste, he would spend hours finding new ways to shape and construct his Iron Dust. One of his clearest memories of his genin days was when he finally had enough control to create a perfect replica of a flower out of his dust, right down to the individual petals.

He hummed again, and returned his focus to the show.

----------------------------------------

The curtains closed, and when they opened again Rowlf was sitting next to a side table. On the table, a framed photo was turned away from the audience. One corner had a black band around it.

“Before we go any further,” Rowlf said, strumming on his harp, “I’d like to take a moment to be a little more low-key. You know. It can’t always be laugh after laugh. Sometimes, you gotta slow down and think about the important things. Like new friends, and adventures yet to be had.”

He turned the frame around, to reveal a drawing of Wilkins in watercolor.

“Or about old friends, who might not be around anymore.”

The audience murmured, not sure what to make of this.

“So--if you’ll indulge me--I’d like to share a poem I wrote. Dedicated to comrades who have fought their final battles.”

“Life is a story, with a beginning and an end.

And we always wanna think we’re in the middle.

But some stories end when you’re old and grey,

And some end when you’re still really little.

I think the things we said

And about the life he almost led

I think about the songs he never sang

But at least I can say, he went out with a bang.

He made ‘em laugh. He made ‘em cry.

He made them rage, and then he died.

And the only thing I can say

When I’m feeling so low

When I look at him now…

One thing I know:

That’s the way he’d have wanted to go.”

Rowlf took a shuddering breath. “Thank you.”

---

The curtains closed on Rowlf. And then, surprising everyone, the curtains pulled back from the left side of the stage, revealing Kermit standing off to the side as Rowlf walked off carrying his props.

Kermit patted him on the back as he passed, and Rowlf dropped what he was carrying to pull him into a hug, shoulders shaking.

The curtain closed again.

--------------------------------------

The curtain pulled back again, this time to reveal a pair of faceless combat puppets facing each other. Each wore an identical outfit save for the color; one wore blue, and the other wore red. Both wielded bokken.

A drum began playing, joined by shamisen, and the two puppets bowed to each other. While blue was still bowing, Red straightened and drew its bokken and clubbed Blue over the head with it, knocking it to the floor.

Blue stood up in a hurry, looking annoyed. It didn’t have a face to emote with, but there was no mistaking the impatient foot-tapping or the hands on its hips.

Red shrugged, looking sheepish.

Blue rolled its shoulder and took a stance, drawing its own sword.

The two faced off, waiting for the other to make the first move.

The music built up. Suddenly, Red straightened, alarmed, and pointed over Blue’s shoulder. When the blue puppet turned to see what was wrong, Red struck it in its back, knocking it over.

Blue was annoyed now, while Red mimed laughter. A trumpet played in the background in short bursts, mimicking the sound of a laughing man.

Blue’s shoulders slumped and it readied itself again. Red did the same, clearly taking it more seriously. Red took the first move, which Blue blocked easily.

What followed was a dizzying display of kenjutsu that dazzled the civilians and impressed the shinobi.

---

(Satoshi’s brow climbed up his head as the sword fight went on. After a few seconds of back-and-forth, he stood from his seat and stealthily went around to peek backstage, behind the black curtain where the puppeteers were.

Satoshi had expected to see Ozu, the kenjutsu specialist, and Sasori, the puppetry prodigy, controlling them. Instead, he was faintly astonished to see Ondori controlling both at once, utterly focused on his performance. Ozu stood nearby, in Ondori’s field of view, going through a series of katas at a fast pace. The reason for this was a mystery, until Satoshi looked onstage to see Red launch an attack identical to one Ozu had just demonstrated, and realized that Ondori was improvising on the fly based on what Ozu was showing him.

Sasori, standing off to the side and reading the script, looked up and met his eyes.

Satoshi nodded to him and returned to his seat.

He purchased a bag of peanuts first, and handed them to Rasa as he sat down.

“I am beginning to see something here,” he said.)

---

After a particularly furious set of exchanges, Red and Blue stepped aside, shoulders heaving as though the wooden men were out of breath.

They nodded at each other and bowed once more. When they straightened, Blue tilted his head in a way that conveyed a smirk despite lacking a mouth, and tapped the tip of his bokken against the stage.

Red’s clothes instantly fell to pieces, cut into ribbons. The puppet jolted, desperately trying to catch the cloth as it fell to try and cover itself.

Blue laughed, the shamisen providing a conniving snicker as it walked offstage, and the curtains fell.

------------------------------

Ondori let his arms drop, panting. “That was more difficult than I expected.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to tell,” Ozu admitted, sheathing his weapon. “That was much better than mere copying, Ondori, when did you learn swordplay?”

Ondori shrugged. “I picked some up before settling on the kanabo. And the two aren’t that different anyway, the swords are just faster.”

Ozu’s eye twitched. “I disagree vehemently but we can talk about that later. Sasori, are you ready?”

The boy looked up from the script. “I believe so. And if I’m not, I think it will feel more authentic.”

“I kind of prepared that on short notice,” Odori admitted. “You sure you’re okay doing it? I know you kind of have a thing about art.”

Sasori shrugged. “My opinion does not have to be Gonzo’s opinion. He’s only a character I’m playing.”

“Of course. Right.”

-------------------------------

Kermit ran back on stage as the curtains opened to reveal a strange setup, made to look like rocky outcrops. “And now for the second of our newcomers, who calls himself an artist because nobody else will. Introducing the Great Gonzo!”

A blue furry muppet fell from the top of the stage, landing on his face. He stood up quickly, facing the back of the stage. “Behold!”

Kermit coughed. “Uh, Gonzo?”

Gonzo looked over his shoulder, then twisted to face the correct direction. “Behold!” he repeated. “I, Gonzo the Great, shall perform a most ancient and beautiful work of poetry: Lion Eating Poet in the Stone Den!” A puppet, made to look like a lion-dog, walked onstage from the right. “While being eaten by an actual lion!”

The lion-dog perked up, eager. Kermit made himself scarce.

“Now c’mere,” Gonzo commanded, holding up an (empty) bottle of gravy and )pretending to) slather it all over himself. “C’mere you hungry pussy cat you!”

The lion stared at him, then at the audience. It grinned. “Shishishi…”

“Yeah, come and get it!”

A nervous Fozzie walked onstage, carrying a sheet of paper. “Er, Gonzo?”

“What do you want? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of an act?” Gonzo asked impatiently.

Fozzie chewed on his fingertips for a moment. “Well, it’s just. Look, here, the poem isn’t ‘Lion Eating Poet,’ it’s ‘Lion-Eating Poet.’ See that hyphen right there?”

Gonzo snatched the paper and scanned it, the lion reading over his shoulder. “What does that mean?”

“It means you are supposed to eat him,” Fozzie clarified.

Gonzo and the lion looked up, staring across the audience. Gonzo was suddenly wearing a bid that had been obscured by the paper. They looked at each other.

“Shi shi shi…” the lion laughed nervously.

“Even better!” Gonzo declared, tossing the paper aside and pulling out a fork and knife. “C’mere!”

“Yipe!”

Gonzo chased the lion over the stage as the curtains closed to fanfare, and Kermit stepped out in front of them.

“What an act!” he declared.

The lion roared behind the curtain, startling the frog while Gonzo laughed manically.

“Sorry, I meant to say, ‘What was that act?’ Because I don’t know. But! It’s time for the closing number, ‘It’s Not Where You Start.’ Everyone give a big hand once again to Rowlf, yaaaaay!”

-----------------------

It's not where you start, it's where you finish.

It's not how you go, it's how you land.

A hundred to one shot, they call him a klutz

Can out-run the favorite, all he needs is the guts.

Your final return will not diminish

And you can be the cream of the crop;

It's not where you start, it's where you finish,

And I’m gonna finish on top!

---------------------------------

After the song finished, Kermit heard the other muppets onstage and gave his closing statement.

“It’s been a wonderful show tonight, our best one yet! I hope you’ve had fun, I know I have. We’re improving every time, and I promise it will only get better from here.”

“It almost has to!” Yaji called.

“Yeah, you’re got nowhere to go but up,” Chosho finished. “Hohoh--huh?”

A woman stepped onto the balcony holding a broom. “What are you old men doing up here?! Get down, get down!”

As the civilian woman beat the two old men with a broom, Kermit wrapped up. “Well, since we seem to have run out of acts, it must be time to go, so we’ll see you next time on the Muppet Show!”

As the audience got up to leave and, happily, mostly donate to the dish, the puppeteers began the process of breaking down the stage.

“How do you think it went?” Ondori asked, sealing Kermit away.

“The audience enjoyed it,” Ozu pointed out. “That applause wasn’t faked.”

Ondori made an agreeing sound. “Good work, Sasori. I think you’ve really got the hang of it.”

“Thank you, Ondori-san.”

“And I think Fozzie is going places.”

Ozu grinned. Picking up Fozzie, he said, “Why, thank you!”

“Indeed.”

The three puppeteers turned to see the Kazekage approaching, sans robes. They lined up, saluting.

“At ease,” he said. “I think I just about understand the appeal of this show of yours, Ondori.”

Ondori brightened. “Really? Thank you sir!”

“Mm. I do question your decision to put one on right now, though,” he said. “I gave you three days to prepare for a mission, and you instead spent it making this?”

Ondori grinned sheepishly. He was much more confident in his element than he had been in the Kazekage’s office. “Sasori was kind enough to lend me some of his, so I should be good. As for the rest, well. It wasn’t as hard as all that.”

Satoshi tilted his head. “I see. Building the stage and the new muppets must have taken a day, perhaps? I assume the kenjutsu puppets and the lion-dog were Sasori’s. When did you have time to rehearse?”

“We didn’t.” Ozu said. “Ondori finished the script thirty minutes before the curtains went up.”

The Kazekage wasn’t quite able to hide his surprise at that. “You mean to tell me that the three of you created performances and got into character at a half-hour’s notice, and still made it sound as natural as that?”

“I guess we did, huh?” Ondori mused. “Good job again, you two.”

The Kazekage hummed, deep in thought. “I see…” His face twitched. “To recap, you built a well-constructed stage with props along with creating new characters that you were able to seamlessly engage with, in only three days?”

“Two. I did actually spend the first day packing and repairing Sweetums. He needed a new head, if I was going to make him a muppet, but he’s still combat-capable too.”

“And where did the walkie-talkie come from? The village has too few of those to authorize for an impromptu play.”

“That was me!” Ozu’s apprentice Sawa entered the backstage area, carrying several folding chairs in his arms. “It was just a block of carved wood. I used a seal to play a pre-recorded sound from it that Ondori-san activated through his chakra threads.”

“A seal that records sound?” the Kazekage pressed.

“Yeah! Oh,” the young man realized who he was talking to and averted his eyes. “Uh. I-It’s not finished, it can only record a few seconds worth, and it’s lost once it plays, but I’m working on it. A-And it was good enough for the show!”

“I see.” The Kazekage smiled, unsettling the four of them. “Very good. Ondori, you set out on your mission tomorrow. Expect a new assignment on your return.”

“Another so soon?” Ondori muttered. “Yes sir. Thanks for… watching the show.”

Satoshi walked away, not sparing them another glance.

After a moment’s silence, they returned to packing up. Ondori put that conversation out of his mind in favor of thinking about his mission. It wasn’t often he fought another puppeteer.

He hoped it wouldn’t get as out of hand as the last one.