Bobby’s Top Secret Plan for ILHC Cabaret Next Year
This week’s swungover post is early! If you’re in DC please consider coming to New Blood Night at Jam Cellar Tuesday.
You’re at ILHC next year, and all of a sudden the lights go down. Suddenly the unmistakable sound of a piano clinking. Light sup on Rolf, the Muppet, playing a piano. First, jazz chords. Then, Srgt. Floyd Pepper, the bass player from Dr. Teeth and Electric Mahem, comes out and starts playing bass. They start to jam. Zoot and Lips join on trumpets. Suddenly, the jazz jam is broken up by the crazed sound of drumming–Animal is going nuts with a swingin’ drum roll. You suddenly realize: you are watching Muppet Hellzapoppin.
“Me Me Mememee, me me memee MEE!” Beaker says, with the same cadence “If I’m not mistaken, here comes something now!”
Suddenly, Fozzie Bear is swinging out the hippy chick from Dr. Teeth, replacing William Downes and Francis Jones. Imagine the way the Muppets move, the hoppy yet loping feeling they have when they walk, the way the only stiff thing in most of their arms is the wrist, where the wires are. Imagine Fozzy looking at the camera, his mouth wide open in a silent laugh, as he walks with his shoulders, back on the floor at the end of the jam.
Next, the Swedish Chef busts out of the curtain swinging out a chicken from his kitchen. Hatchets fly. Feathers, too, especially after each aerial. “Nanoo! Bork!” He screams as they go into the merry-go-round. As he and chicken do the wide-legged strut-off, imagine his floppy hat and head, nodding back as Kermit and Miss Piggy come out in Al and Willa Mae Fashion, Kermit’s long, skinny limbs punching every kick, siwinging around Miss Piggy’s head, and suddenly flying into the air, Kermits large mouth agape, for the shake-the-change.
Finally, Animal, now off of the drums, comes swinging out with the old lady muppet I don’t know the name of. He does all the Frankie moves, throwing the old lady, who holds her own just as well as Ann Johnson. When she kicks Animal in the butt, he flies 65 feet, like a bag of fur with arms shot out of a cannon. He still makes it back in time for the next swing out, though. Finally, all ends with the group choreography, each muppet falling back onto the floor with comically exagerated panting.
I haven’t told Andrew Thigpen about it yet, but I have the feeling he’s on board.