Chapter Text
50 years. it had been 50 years since the muppet show premiered on television since 1974. But since the death of the creator Jim Henson passed away things were never the same. Everyone went their separate ways and lived separate lives as the legacy lived on but not without the original man. All thag changed when a teen girl named Max finds out the truth about the studio and what happened after the death. It was a quiet nighg at 12:36 pm in the Jim Henson Company where the once happy and friendly place became a shell of what it once was. a dark, bleak, land full of rust and dust. Max who was used to haunted or abandoned places was going to solve the unsolved mystery of what happened to the muppet show and what happened to her dad.
With a flashlight clutched in her hands, Max crept through the eerily silent halls that had once been brimming with life and joy. Dust motes swirled lazily in the beams of her flashlight, casting shadows that seemed to dance in the dim light. As she padded silently on sneakers that muffled the sound of her steps, she could almost hear the echoes of laughter and applause that had once filled this place. It was a ghost of what once was.
max: okay..lets do this..she opens the door and walks in flashlight in hand
Max stepped through the threshold and into the darkness, heart thumping in her chest. Her flashlight cut through the shadows, revealing the old set pieces and props that lay abandoned and neglected. This was the stage where the Muppets used to perform. Now, it was silent as the grave, the only sound was the soft whispers of her own breathing.
A sense of profound loss and sadness hung in the air, as if the very theater itself missed the laughter and joy that had once filled its halls.
Suddenly there was a loud voice of old men laughing. Max instantly shined her flashlight around trying to find the source of laughter until two ghosts appear behind her. Standler and Waldorf
Before Max even turned around, the sound of aging, gruff voices echoed through the theater. They were unmistakable. Two ghostly figures materialized behind her - Statler and Waldorf. Despite their etherealness, they looked just as they had in life, with their wrinkled, bearded faces and their trademark sour yet comedic expressions.
"Ohohoho! Look who's here!" Statler jeered, the creases in his face deepening with mischief.
"We have an unexpected visitor, Waldorf!" Waldorf chimed in with a gravelly chuckle.
Max: shit! Fuck what happned to you two! you look like..like..
Statler stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps... we look a tad different since the last time you saw us, eh kid?"
Waldorf nodded sagely. "Yes, we might have a hint of the 'undead' about us, I reckon. Not the best look, I agree, but it comes with the territory, y'know."
Statler chuckled again. "And let me tell you, being a ghost ain't all gloom and doom. We get to haunt old theaters and make young'uns like you jump out of their skin!"
Max: look im just trying to find out what happened here..wheres Kermit or Miss Piggy?
Statler and Waldorf exchanged a knowing glance. "Ah, Kermit and Miss Piggy... such a tumultuous pair those two."
Waldorf shook his head somberly. "They were as different as night and day. Kermit, the straight man, always trying to keep things in order... but Miss Piggy, well she was a force of nature, that one."
Statler's face twisted into a smirk. "And let me tell you, they had quite the... complicated relationship over the years."
are they dead..?
Statler and Waldorf looked at each other again, a hint of sadness in their ethereal eyes.
"Not exactly." Statler said enigmatically.
Waldorf nodded. "They're out there somewhere in the land of the living. But let's just say they've... moved on from this place."
what happened to you two? i thought puppets cant die.
Statler chuckled bitterly. "Ah, the wonders of being a puppet, eh? We're supposed to be immortal playthings, never aging, never changing. But life has a way of throwing you curveballs."
Waldorf shook his head. "We used to sit in our box every show, making our wise cracks and criticisms. But life has its limits, even for puppets, it turns out."
huh. well im trying to find out what happened to this place and where my father is. Do you know anyone else that still stayed here? like Fozzie or Gonzo?
The old ghost duo fell silent for a moment, their expression turning contemplative.
"Those two..." Statler muttered thoughtfully. "Gonzo always was the eccentric type, eh? And Fozzie... well, his sense of humor hasn't exactly aged well with time."
Waldorf nodded in agreement. "As for your father... I don't know who he is, but I'm sure there are others still lingering here."
but where to start...? *she muttered to herself* *just then Waldorf hands Max a soulball.* Waldorf: here! take this. itll help you contact us and give you more info. *the two ghosts disappear into the ball*
Max looked down at the soulball in her hands. It felt weighty and significant. She wasn't sure if she could trust these two sarcastic specters but it was the only lead she had at the moment. She clenched the ball in her fist.
"Thanks..." she whispered into the empty theater. The silence in response was almost deafening.
She would have to keep searching and hope that this soulball turned out to be a useful tool in uncovering the mystery of the puppet show's downfall.
*she then walks behind the stage to see the dog Rowlf playing a broken piano*
Max turned her flashlight beam towards the back of the stage and in its flickering light, revealed a familiar sight. Rowlf, the old dog sat hunched over a broken, tattered piano, paws plonking out a soft, melancholic tune on the chipped keys. He didn't seem to notice her yet.
*she crept towards him and tries to touch him slowly*
Max slowly approached the old dog, each step careful and cautious. Rowlf's eyes were fixed on the keys, his fingers moving almost mechanically over the cracked ivories. When she reached out tentatively towards him, his ears pricked for a moment but he continued to play, seemingly unaware of her approach.
Rowlf...?
Rowlf's fingers paused over the piano, the final notes of his soft tune hanging in the air. He didn't look up but the recognition was clear in his voice.
"I know that sound... those soft footsteps tryin' to tiptoe round me." He said, a hint of a gruff amusement in his tone.
Look im just tryna find my fath-
Rowlf's furry shoulders sagged slightly.
"Everyone's tryna find something these days." he muttering, the bitterness in his voice surprising.
He turned to face her, the old piano between them. His eyes were tired and sad, the light that had once sparkled in them was dimmed. "What makes you think I can find what you're looking for? We're all broken things here, the Muppets and the memories that haunt this place."
...you were friends with Jim Henson..did he know my dad..?
Rowlf's expression softened even more at the mention of his old friend. His old, weathered paw absently played with a loose key on the piano.
"Yeah, we all Knew Henson..." he said quietly. "One of the best. A true creator. He gave us life, made us real..."
"But your dad..." Rowlf continued, his brow furrowing in thought. "I don't know about him. We had plenty come through here over the years. Cast members, production crew... it's hard to remember them all sometimes."
where can i find fozzie or gonzo?
Rowlf rolled his eyes. "Why does it always gotta be those two?!"
He sighed, though there was a hint of fondness in his voice. "Those two... they're around somewhere. Probably in the backstage area, arguing or goofing off. But you know, they're not the same as they used to be. Few of us are."
..all im asking is for your help..if you help me i can fix this place- i can save yo-
just then Rowlf barks and begins to try and attack max but is restrained by a chain
The sudden change in Rowlf's demeanor caught her off guard. His eyes, once weary, now flashed with a wild, almost feral look. He strained against the chain holding him back, the chain clanking loudly in the theater.
"Don't... don't make promises you can't keep!" he growled, a deep, guttural noise coming from his throat. "We can't be saved. We're stuck here, like puppets on a string, prisoners in this cursed theater!"
Suddenly a sleepy dart comes out and strikes Rowlf putting him to sleep. Max turns to see a hooded figure who grabs her arm and takes her to a lab room. one that could be described as Muppet Labs. The hooded figure places his hands on a desk and takes off his hood to reveal Beaker except he had an eye patch on his left eye, his hair was messy, his clothes were raggy and tattered and he had a robotic left arm.