All the World's a Stage - Chapter 24 (Patreon)

“It’s the Muppet Show, with our very special guest, Pakura the Scorcher! YAAAAY!!!”

Every lamp in the tent doused itself as the spotlights came up. The band started up a tune. Four vaguely feminine muppets kicklined across the stage.

“It’s time to play the music!
It’s time to light the lights!
It’s time to meet the Muppets on the Muppet show tonight.”

Once they were gone, four more muppets in suits bobbed back the way they’d come.

“It’s time to put on makeup!
It’s time to dress up right!
It’s time to raise the curtain on the Muppet show tonight!”

The curtains parted to reveal Fozzie, mouth agape in a wide smile. “My sister’s friend got married recently. She said it was so lovely, even the cake was in tiers!” He laughed at his own joke while Kermit jumped in front of him.

“To introduce our guest star
That’s what I’m here to do.
So it really makes me happy
To introduce to you:
The rising star of Hidden Sand, Pakura the Scorcher! YAY!”

Pakura stepped out and raised her arms with a smile, to cheering from the locals.

“But now let’s get things started
On the most sensational,
Inspirational,
Celebrational
Muppet-tational!
This is what we call the Muppet Shooooooow!”

As the cast sang the final note, a large sign displaying the show’s title descended over the stage. Gonzo walked in, holding a gong and a mallet, and finished the theme tune by giving it a bang… hard enough that it flipped over onto his head for a second crash.

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

The curtains closed on the theme song, and then a moment later parted for the opening number.

The backdrop was of an idyllic landscape, all green hills and rivers behind a white picket fence. No one was onstage even as Rowlf stood up and started playing his harp, a slow beautiful song. Then, from the top of the stage, a cloud slowly lowered, and a voice drifted down.

The audience shifted, as the singer began before she was fully in view, and many of them were wondering who or what could be singing with such a… distinct… sound.

“Somewhere, over the rainbow…
Way up high
There’s a land that I heard of
Once, in a lullaby…”

The cloud dropped far enough to reveal the singer, a pink pig in a lovely kimono and blonde wig. In the back, an old man choked, and the pig took the moment between verses to blink coquettishly over the audience. Not at anyone in particular, just the audience in general.

“Somewhere, over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.”

The shinobi in the audience twitched as they felt the genjutsu settle over them. It made no attempt to hide itself, and only a handful chose to dispel it. For the civilians and the shinobi who didn’t, it made a rainbow appear, sprouting out of the pig’s cloud and wrapping around her like a flying ribbon, before settling into an arc that ended stage left.

“Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me
Where troubles smell like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me

Somewhere, over the rainbow
Blue birds fly.
Birds fly, over the rainbow…
Why then, oh, why can’t I?”

The pig tossed her hair over her shoulder and struck a pose as the music wrapped up. The audience clapped as Rowlf finished, and she stood on her cloud to bow.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you! Oh, oh, I love you all! I can feel your love, settling down on me like… like a heavy blanket, or a--”

The wires holding up her cloud audibly strained, and then one of the four snapped. Piggy’s head jerked to look at it.

“...Or a lead weight.” A second wire snapped, and Piggy screamed as the cloud upended. Clinging on for dear life, she yelled, “Close the curtain! Close the curtain!”

The curtains closed, and just as they covered the scene the audience winced as Piggy, unseen, let out one more yelp and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor rang out.

Kermit ran onstage, looking nervous. “Oh goodness. Er, Piggy? Are you okay back there?”

Piggy poked her head out from the curtains. Her hair was a mess and there was a tear in her sleeve. “What do you think, buster?”

“Er--”

“I’ll be in my dressing room.”

She went back behind the curtain in a huff, and Kermit turned back to the stage. “Er. Well, everyone, give it up for Miss Piggy, we’re all very happy to have her here.”

“Speak for yourself!”

Those in the audience familiar with the show perked up, looking around for the show’s favorite hecklers. A spotlight turned towards the watchtower balcony, and there was some startled laughter when they saw two old men, but not the ones they were expecting.

“Maybe he was speaking for himself, Statler,” the rounder old Muppet suggested.

The thinner one looked at him. “You think he was using the royal we, Waldorf?”

Waldorf chortled. “Sure, why not? After all, this show’s a royal pain! Hohoho!”

Kermit cleared his throat loudly. “Any-way, speaking of new members of our family, I’m sure you’ve noticed our players in front of the stage. Gentlemen--”

“Ahem.”

“--and lady, why don’t you introduce yourselves?”

The band stood from their places and walked onstage, giving the audience a good look at them.

“Hey hey hey!” the largest one said, a green Muppet with a mane of red hair that circled his face. He wore an outrageous pink outfit with striped sleeves and a feathered cap. His most notable feature however were his large teeth, and the single gold tooth that stood out from them. “You’re a beautiful audience, just great. The name’s Dr. Teeth, and we are the Electric Mayhem!”

“Mayhem! Mayhem!!” the wild-looking red one chanted. The pink muppet yanked on the chain around his neck.

“Whoa, Animal, calm down.”

“Mayhem!”

“No Mayhem.”

Animal’s eyes opened fully, making him look contrite. “…mischief?”

“Maybe a little after the show.”

“Ha-ha,” Dr. Teeth laughed. “That’s our drummer, Animal, and Floyd, the bassist.”

“An-i-mal!”

“Hey, folks!”

“And this is Janice, our guitarist.”

The sole female puppet strummed her instrument and brushed her hair behind where her ears would have been if she had any. “It’s, like, so great to be here.”

Floyd stepped up and took over. “And finally, our horn player. Zoot. Zoot?”

The blue puppet with the sunglasses was looking off to the side, staring at nothing.

“Zoot, man, turn around.”

“Whuh? Oh hey, Floyd. When did you get here?”

“Same time you did, man.”

“Right…” Zoot looked around, sluggish. “...When did I get here?”

Floyd shook his head despairingly as Dr. Teeth took over again. In the background, a bunch of nondescript muppets were setting the band’s instruments up onstage.

“We’re all pleased as punch to be playin’ for you,” Dr. Teeth said, “And we’re so thankful to Kermit for giving us this gig. It’s been so long since we had a gig, you know? The pay’s not great, but he’s letting us sleep here after the show--”

“They don’t need to know that,” Kermit interjected.

“--which is more than we’ve had in a while, you know, even if he’s not giving us a bedroll or anything--”

“We don’t have any, I told you--”

“--and we also do gigs for official ceremonies, ambience at bars, and birthday parties for kids, so if you like what you hear tonight, give us a call after the show--”

Kermit flailed, stepping between him and the audience. “Hey, we’ve kind of got a show to do, guys!”

“On an empty stomach?” Dr. Teeth asked, eyes widening… no, what had looked like sleepy eyebrows were actually sunglasses he was wearing upside down, the audience collectively realized. “What about our snack break?”

“Your snack break was supposed to be before the show,” Kermit explained, a touch impatient. “That’s what the buffet table was for.”

The band as a group went “Ooooooohhh,” like that hadn’t even occurred to them.

“That makes so much sense,” Zoot said in wonder.

“Now I feel bad for keeping Animal away from the toast and jam,” Floyd said. “I didn’t want him to make a mess.”

“Jam!” Animal agreed.

“It’s, like, already a mess back there,” Janice said. “Just look at this sandwich.” She produced the sandwich from behind her back. When she took the top slice of bread off, a small pile of sand slipped off onto the stage with a hiss.

Kermit stared. “Er. Maybe I shouldn’t have had Gonzo prepare the food.” He pulled a small clipboard form somewhere. “Note to self: hire a caterer next time.”

“Jam! JAM!”

“You know what, Animal’s right,” Dr. Teeth said, wandering over to his instrument. “Everybody? Let’s jam!”

“JAM JAM!!!”

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

As the Electric Mayhem launched into a lively number, some members of the audience talked among themselves.

Jiraiya leaned towards Nagato to his right. “This isn’t anything like I was expecting.”

Nagato shrugged. “It’s interesting. I like the band.”

Yahiko grinned, leaning over Nagato. “Hey, that first frog was based on you, right sensei?”

“A little quieter than that, Koya,” Jiraiya-as-Tetsu chided. “But, yes.”

“Didn’t that pig remind you of Tsunade-sama?”

Jiraiya choked for the second time. “Don’t say that! She’d kill you!”

“And if she doesn’t I will,” Konan threatened. “Show Lady Tsunade proper respect!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Jiraiya shuddered, trying and failing to reconcile Tsunade with the idea of Miss Piggy, and instead looked around the tent, eyeing a few patrons in particular. “Good grief, look at some of these guys… Is that Racer Goryū?”

The Animal muppet yelled again.

From above, the old men muppets shook their head. “I don’t get this young-people music,” Statler said.

“Oh, I understand it,” Waldorf said. “I just don’t like it.”

Jiraiya rolled his eyes. He recognized Yaji and Chosho up there in theatre blacks, hiding in the shadows at the top of the tent. He didn’t know they were still alive; in fact Jiraiya was almost certain he’d heard Chosho was dead; he made a mental note to visit some old contacts while he was in Suna. They clearly needed a talk.

The number came to a close, and Jiraiya started paying attention again.

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

The curtain closed on the Mayhem. Then, to the surprise of everyone, the section to the left opened up to reveal the ‘backstage’ area. Kermit was looking onto the mainstage as the band filtered off of it.

“Good number, guy, good number. Uh, Floyd, are you sure that chain will hold?”

“Course it won’t, boss man,” Floyd drawled. “It ain’t got hands.”

As he laughed at his own joke, Animal jerked forward, pulling Floyd along with him.

“Cute,” Kermit said blandly. He turned to his desk and looked over the schedule. Suddenly, the stage shook, and Kermit looked around in fright. The audience felt a light tremor under their feet, and sand fell from the ‘ceiling’ above Kermit. “What?!”

“What’s wrong, Kermit?” Pakura emerged from a door in the background, wearing her standard shinobi gear.

“Didn’t you feel that?” Kermit asked.

“Feel what?”

“There was a, a--” Kermit stopped, looking around. “...Oh. I guess it stopped. Nevermind then.”

Pakura shook her head with a smile. “You don’t need to be nervous, Kermit, the show’s going great.”

“The show’s barely started,” Kermit rebutted. “There’s still time to go wrong, just you wait.”

Pakura frowned, concerned. “Well, that;’s no way to look at things. Why so pessimistic?”

There was a clatter, and they both turned towards the back, Pakura incidentally moving to give the audience a better look.

Gonzo was walking by carrying a stack of crates taller than he was, while Fozzie was going the other way with his nose in a jokebook. The two walked directly into each other and Gonzo dropped the crates all over the both of them, which busted open to spill a stack of rubber chickens everywhere.

Kermit turned back to Pakura. “Call it a hunch.”

Pakura chuckled. “Well, I say it’ll be fine. It’s time for my act, so you let me show off while you clean up back here.”

She walked behind the stage curtain while Kermit called after her. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a guy for that. George!”

The backstage curtain closed and the spotlight settled back on the mainstage.

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

Pakura stood in the middle a square, defined by the presence of potted cacti. The backdrop was a simple desert scene.

She looked over the crowd. She noted a few shinobi she recognized--Rasa and his girlfriend were in row five, Yashamaru was nearby with his attention more on them than the show, Lord Ebizo and Lady Chiyo were seated together near the back--and more than a few she didn’t. She saw the Toad Sage in his disguise and had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

“Floyd?” she asked once she was sure she was ready.

The pink puppet in the red military jacket nodded. “Right, right. C’mon guys. A one and a two and a--”

Rowlf started with his harp, then Animal let the cymbal hiss, and Pakura focused.

The Scorch Release was an odd one, and Pakura had had to figure it out mostly by herself. It was the heat of the desert sun made manifest. It was more than just heated air, and yet it wasn’t quite true fire either, while reaching temperatures most Fire users couldn’t dream of.

And though she’d never really thought much about it before rehearsing for this act, it was also visually striking.

Pakura held one hand out in front of her, palm up, and willed her chakra to form. An orb of orange, smokeless flame appeared, hovering above her hand. She closed her hand around it, then tossed it from one hand to the other.

Zoot joined in with a low note, and Pakura formed another orb. She tossed both over her head, forming two new ones, and suddenly she was juggling. One more, two more, seven orbs total.

Oop, over the shoulder. Bring her foot up behind her, kick it back to the group. Drop one, bounce it on her knee. Roll one across her shoulder. Then--in the hands--squeeze with elbows--under knee--crook of her foot--balanced on head--and hold, all still. Then jerk, and back to it.

Pakura felt herself smiling. It was an interesting exercise in control. She actually had full control over the orbs at all times; letting them be subject to gravity was a choice, and if one shifted minutely to the side to prevent her from dropping one when she didn’t mean to, almost no one in the audience noticed.

The music was building to a crescendo, and when it came to a sudden stop, so did the orbs. She froze them, suspended in the air in an arc above her head.

Pakura had three friends in row three, one in the middle and one at both ends. She’d had them each take spots there with a glass of water, and at her nod, they all tossed the glass in the air at once, to the shock of the audience.

Three orbs lanced out towards the splashes. The instant they touched the water, both orb and liquid stopped existing with a snap.

With her remaining four, she tossed them to fall on the cacti. Steam erupted off of the plants in a loud hiss and covered the stage. When it cleared, the cacti were little more than dry sticks, and Pakura had vanished without a trace.

One of the desiccated plants broke under its own weight with a tiny tk, and the curtains drew closed.

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

Jiraiya clapped along with the rest of the audience. It was an impressive display of skill. Physical dexterity, chakra control, a flashy kekkei genkai shown off effectively, and the unspoken implication of If this is what it does to plant, imagine what it does to people.

For some, that would be frightening. For others, an opportunity. And, of course, for everyone else it was a pretty good show.

Jiraiya leaned back with a thoughtful expression and wondered how hard it would be to convince a Nara to do shadow puppets. And wasn’t there a clan of illusionists in Konoha? He couldn’t remember their name at the moment but he was certain they existed…

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

The backstage area opened again.

“Good job, Pakura, that was beautiful,” Kermit said as she walked by. “George could you--”

“Yeah, yeah,” the janitor mumbled, walking onstage and coming back with the potted plants. “Waste of good green if you ask me.”

He gave one a shake, and it collapsed into dust. Kermit coughed. “Well, give them some water. I’m sure they’ll perk up.”

As George walked off, Fozzie came up. “Heeey, Frog, might I just say that you are looking handsome today! Is that a new collar?”

“What do you want, Fozzie?” Kermit asked flatly.

Fozzie looked behind Kermit towards the stage. “W-Well, you know, there’s a lot of really important people in the audience tonight, really really big wigs! And I was hoping that you’d, you know--”

“Oh, Fozzie,” Kermit said sympathetically. “I know it’s intimidating, but running from your problems isn’t the answer. You can’t just ask me to cancel your spot because you’re scared.”

Fozzie flinched back, shocked. “Cancel my--Cancel my spot?! No, nonono no, that’s not it, I’m not afraid! I’m excited Kermit! This could be my big break! I could finally make an impression and blow this popsicle stand of a show!”

“...Excuse me?”

Fozzie pulled him close, one arm around Kermit’s shoulders while the other gesticulated at the ceiling. “I can picture it now! Fozzie Bear, master comedian! My name up in lights! Hundreds--no, thousands laughing every night! It could all start here!”

Kermit looked towards the audience. “On second thought maybe I should cancel it after all.”

“Oh come on, Frog,” Fozzie pleaded. “Just… just puff me up a little, c’mon, please, oh please? I’ll, I’ll--I’ll forfeit my pay for this show if you give me a grand introduction! I’ll make it back in no time with my new fans!”

“Fozzie, I don’t know about this. I think you’re getting ahead of myself.”

“You mean I’m getting ahead in the industry!”

Kermit sighed. “Alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The backstage closed, and the main curtains opened. Kermit ran out.

“Ladies and gentlemen, civilians and shinobi, boys and girls of all ages, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the funniest bear alive! You know him, you love him, he’ll have you rolling in the aisles, may I present Mister Foz-zie BEAR!”

A grander-than-usual fanfare played as Fozzie stepped onstage, blowing kisses. “Hiya! Mwah, hiya to-a you-a! Boy, that Pakura sure is something, huh? That girl’s going places!”

Statler scoffed. “Yeah! Away from here, if she’s smart!”

“She can’t be that smart,” Waldorf retorted. “After all, she came here in the first place!”

“Eh.” Fozzie shook himself and ignored them. “Hey, is it hot up here or is it just Pakura’s act? Lemme tell ya, it’s so hot--”

“How hot is it?” the band all asked in unison.

“--It’s so hot, I went down to the market to buy some eggs, and they were all over-easy!”

“Boo!”

“Boo! Get off the stage!”

Fozzie gulped. “Er. It’s so hot--”

“How hot is it?”

“It’s so hot, my thermometer is running a fever!”

“You call that a joke?” Statler jeered.

“The only joke we see is you!” Waldorf added.

“And it’s not a funny one!”

“Oh yeah?” Fozzie challenged, then faltered. “O-Oh, yeah? Urk. Geez, it really is hot up here,” he said to himself, pulling at his scarf. “I feel like I’m melting.”

“Now that would be something to see!”

“Come on, do you guys have to do this today?” Fozzie whined.

“Do you?”

The old men laughed and Fozzie slumped. “Ah, geez…”

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

Shortly after Fozzie walked offstage, a nondescript Muppet wheeled a set of hanging bells out. A brood of hens wandered on the stage, and Jiraiya tilted his head. They took slow steps, pecking at the ground, until the first one made it to the bells and started pecking those instead. The others joined it and soon a little tune was playing.

He turned to look at his students, who seemed to be enjoying the show. Nagato had a look of contentment on his face. Konan, he could tell, was analyzing everything she saw and trying to figure out how it worked. Yahiko seemed to just be having a good time.

Jiraiya himself was starting to get it. There was something compelling about it. Not every skit was a winner, but they were different enough that there was bound to be something for everyone. The music was fascinating, and the characters felt like real people.

It was something he could appreciate. Jiraiya knew what it was like to get in a character’s head. He was an author, after all. If nothing else, he definitely appreciated that Ondori’s commitment to making them feel authentic. It was almost more like looking at a bunch of summons, if he wasn’t sharp-eyed enough to spot the chakra threads controlling them.

The chickens wrapped it up, and the backstage opened up again--and that was another neat little trick, making the behind the scenes part of the show…

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

“Gonzo, not right now.”

“But Kermit!” the little blue thing pleaded. “You gotta listen, this act is gonna be a real winner, I just know it!”

“Somehow I doubt it.”

“I’ll prove it to you, let me go on right now!”

“You can’t, the Tumblin’ Weeds are on right now.”

The frog and thing paused to watch a trio of tumbleweeds bounce by. One, wearing sunglasses, stopped and gave Gonzo a look. It huffed and tumbled on by.

(To the audience’s confusion, the curtains did not open to reveal the tumbleweeds’ performance, instead focusing on backstage. Faint music could be heard.)

“You’re letting them go on over me?” Gonzo asked, outraged.

“Gonzo, you--” Kermit looked up from his desk and into the pitiful snout of Gonzo, and sighed. “Alright, what’s your act?”

Gonzo immediately lit up. “I’m glad you asked! It started with--”

The stage shook with an ominous rumble, sand spilling from the roof once more, but moreso. The shaking of the stage and the props on it was so loud it cut Gonzo off, who kept talking even as Kermit looked this way and that in alarm.

“--then the squirrel--thirty pounds of butter--from the tightrope--and it all ends with me--oatmeal!” Gonzo finished proudly. The tremors subsided. “Whattaya think?!”

“Er! Um! Did you feel that?!” Kermit asked frantically.

“Kermit, you weren’t listening!”

“It happened again!”

The tumbleweeds rolled in again, the lead berating the other two. “I can’t believe you guys. We’re the Tumblin’ Weeds, not the Stumblin’ Weeds!”

“Kermit, did you fell that?” Pakura asked, running in.

“Yes, I did! Again!”

“Hello, Miss The Scorcher.”

“Hi, Gonzo--Kermit, where’d all this sand come from?” Pakura asked.

“It came with the quake, I don’t know,” Kermit said, worried.

Pakura frowned, thinking. “...I think I’ve got an idea of what’s happening. I think it’s my partner for the closing number.”

“Your partner? I don’t remember anything about a partner.”

“Didn’t I mention? My number is a duet.”

“What’ve they got to do with the sand and the quakes?” Kermit asked, confused.

Pakura hesitated. “Well you see--”

“KERMIEEEEE!”

Piggy stuck her head out of her dressing room.

Kermit sagged. “As if things weren’t bad enough.”

“What was that?!” Piggy demanded.

“I said, What’s got you in a huff?”

“There is SAND in my WARDROBE!” Piggy screamed. “My clothes are RUINED!”

“Oh boy.” Kermit shook his head. “Miss Pakura, I have to deal with this. Are you sure you have this earthquake thing under control?”

“Positive. You go handle Piggy.” Pakura watched him go, then turned to the audience herself. “Nice guy, but it’s pretty clear who really brings home the bacon.”

…

Pakura made a face. “I can’t believe they made me say that, good grief…”

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

Talking Houses

The stage opened on a street with four miniature houses. One by one the windows lit up, revealing eyes upstairs on all of them.

“My son ran off to join the military,” one of them said.

Her neighbor responded, “Really? Isn’t that a little intense?”

“No, you’ve got it wrong,” the first house said, “He IS a tent!”

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

The curtain pulls open again in short order, with Rowlf standing alone onstage. There were piles of sand everywhere, and George was off to the side half-heartedly sweeping one up.

The dog cleared his throat. He paused when another tremor hit the stage and wiped some sand off his shoulder. “Ahem. A poem by me, Rowlf:

Throw the ball again.
Oh, it is still in your hand.
I won’t fall for that.”

The band played a calm ditty as Rowlf took a bow.

“Boo!”

The curtains had started to close, but opened up again as Rowlf looked up. “‘Scuse me?”

“You call that a haiku?” Waldorf called down.

“I dunno, I thought it was okay,” Statler said.

“Well I thought it was trite.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Rowlf said. “Here’s another:

The mailman is here.
What’s he even doing here?
I don’t trust that guy.”

“Are dog jokes all you have?” Waldorf complained.

“No, let me see…” Rowlf flipped through a series of notecards. Yet another quake made him stumble and lose his grip on them. “Consarnit! Uh. Ahem.

Stumble, stagger, shake
Sand pouring down from above
Is this good enough?”

Waldorf shrugged. “Eh.”

Statler smacked him. “Shut it, you old fool. You complaining is just making the show longer!”

Waldorf’s mouth dropped open. Then: “Bravo! Fantastic poetry!”

Rowlf bowed and the curtains closed as the band played him off.

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

“I don’t understand where all this sand is coming from,” Kermit wondered. “Pakura? Pakura! It’s time for the finale!”

Piggy appeared from behind him. “What is this? Pakura is missing? Oh, despair! Oh, horror!”

Kermit looked at her. “Piggy, what are you--”

“I suppose I have no choice but to take her place.~~”

“What?” Kermit shook himself. “Piggy, you already had the opening number, isn’t that enough?”

“...No,” the pig said bluntly.

Kermit groaned. “Well, it’s a moot point, since her partner isn’t her either, and it’s a duet, apparently.”

Piggy looked delighted. “Well! That’s simple enough. You can sing it with me!”

“Piggy, I don’t know the song,” Kermit said. “Pakura didn’t tell me what she’s doing.”

“Oh, well that’s simple!” Piggy said. “The song is--ummmmmm.”

“...You don’t know either.”

“Of course I do! It’s--”

Pakura walked in from the left. “I’m back! Sorry if I’m late.”

“Oh. Good,” Piggy said. “Hmph. I didn’t want to sing your crummy song anyway.”

“Pakura, where were you? The number starts in just a few seconds!”

“I had to help my partner through the door,” she said. “Here he is, say hi!”

She gestured behind her, where the audience couldn’t see. What they could see, however, was a looming shadow and Kermit and Piggy looking up over Pakura’s head, frightened.

“I see,” Kermit said nervously. “Well. B-Break a leg.”

Pakura walked onstage. Her partner followed her, but the curtain closed before anyone could see it.

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

(Jiraiya leaned forward, interested in seeing who this special guest’s partner was. It couldn’t be that troll puppet of Ondori’s he wouldn’t feel the need to hide it.)

The curtain opened, and the stage resembled a desert with how much sand was covering it. Pakura stood alone in front of a large dune, the pile coming up to her shoulders.

The band looked nervous as they started playing, but the music was simple and steady as they went.

Pakura swallowed, shoving down her nerves, and smiled for the crowd.

“Won’t you play a simple me~lody
Like my mother sang to me?
One~ with good old-fashioned harmony
Play~ a simple melody~”

She twirled, stepping around the stage in time to the music.

“In days of yore, before the war,
When hearts now old were young,
At home each night by firelight
Those dear old songs were sung
Sweet melodies, their memories
Around my heart still cling
That’s why I long to hear a song
Like mother used to sing!”

Pakura paused to let the music play and tossed one of her Scorched Orbs at the mound behind her. The audience murmured as it shuddered, and the something rose from beneath the sand. Grains cascaded off the puppet as it stood to its full height nearly a two feet over Pakura. It was as wide as she was tall, the same color of the sand except for black patches sewn on haphazardly. There were a handful of screams as enough sand fell for it to be recognized. It was made of cloth and looked like a patchwork doll made huge, but it was very clearly the Ichibi in miniature.

It was wearing a red bowtie with white cuffs on its wrists.

(Jiraiya had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing things correctly.)

Pakura and the Ichibi puppet sang the chorus together, to the stunned silence of the crowd, and then she stepped aside to let him sing a verse. Whoever was providing his voice was giving him a deep baritone as he sang:

“The different days of nowadays
All make me kinda mad
They’re not the kind of songs they sang
When Papa was a lad
Your corny tunes and lazy croons
All make my poor heart ache,
Bring back the rhymes of olden times
And just for old times sake!”

And then they sang together. While Pakura repeated the chorus, the Ichibi sang:

“Musical demons
Set your honey a dreamin’
Won’t you play me some rag?
Just switch that classical nag
To some sweet beautiful drag~
If you will
Play from a copy
Of a tune that is choppy
You’ll get all my applause
And that is simply because~
I wanna listen to rag~”

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

In the middle of the audience, Sakka was writing down as much as he could. Making a puppet based on the Ichibi? Was it just a performance piece or could it fight? If the sound it made when it moved was any indication it was packed full of sand. It must be very heavy; might well feel like it came from the real thing. And the tail had so many joints but it moved like it was real! Was Ondori the one controlling it?

He wished Sugi could be watching this. He felt like she’d appreciate a tail like that. If the puppet was true to life it looked more like a squirrel with that tail than a tanuki.

Ah well, at least she could still hear the song from inside his satchel. He passed her a piece of popcorn.

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

When the song finally finished, Kermit carefully stepped out, avoiding looking directly at the Ichibi.

“Well, hey, it’s been a great show tonight, and you’ve been a lovely audience. Let’s give it up one more time for our amazing guest, Pakura!”

Pakura waved at the applause, bowing. “Wait, Kermit, aren’t you forgetting someone?”

Kermit gulped. He looked over his shoulder at the monster. “About that, how did you meet this guy?”

“I met Itchy at this tea shop in town just the other day,” Pakura explained. “He was living in the teapot.”

“In the teapot?” Then the other thing she said clicked. “His name is Itchy?”

Itchy leaned down. “Yeah, what of it?”

Kermit took a step back, nervous. “Nothing. It’s a lovely name, sir. Just lovely.”

Itchy glared at him for a moment… before breaking into a wide doggy grin. “Thanks! Yours is nice too, Kramit!”

“Actually it’s--nevermind, because we’ll see you all next time on the Muppet Show! YAAAAY!!!”

The band played them off while the cast surged onstage.

In the back, a few shinobi went ahead and made their exits.

Jiraiya was one of them, pulling the Ame trio behind him.

-----

“That was great!” Yahiko declared. “It’s too bad we won’t see the Friday show.”

“Can you believe he made the Ichibi sing?” Konan said. “...I wonder what the actual Ichibi would think of that?”

Jiraiya shuddered. “I don’t know but I don’t think it’ll be flattering. Still, as one artist to another I think I can respect the Muppet Show. I might go while you three are testing.”

“What? That’s not fair!” Yahiko protested.

“Well, what else am I supposed to so while I wait? Suna doesn’t have an onsen.”

“Yes it does,” Nagato said quietly. “We passed it on the way to the tent.”

Jiraiya immediately looked in that direction, spotting it at once. “Oho?”

Konan growled.

Jiraiya gathered himself. “Right, of course. Later, not now. Instead, how about we hit up some local cuisine?”

“I can eat,” Yahiko agreed.

“Excellent. And remember to stay in character.”

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

As the crowd filtered out below them, it was time for one last joke.

“You know, this show really has potential,” Waldorf mused.

Statler gave him a look. “Really?”

“Yeah, they might have something here.”

“What’s that?”

“A disaster. Dohohoho!”

“Dohohoho!”