Self-Insert Stories

7 Minutes in Heaven

EDITED ON: 5/1/23

Words: 4538

"Merry Christmas!" The band shouted as they exited the elevator, plus a "Happy Hanukkah" from Zoot. Now, where were they? Well, it all started when Miss Piggy made Uncle Deadly settle a deal to rent out a lounge area for a Christmas party/sleepover with some big company. The deal never went through and Uncle Deadly settled on the next best thing: renting out a penthouse for a few days. Almost everyone who wasn't traveling was attending and settling into their rooms, and in true Electric Mayhem fashion, the band was extremely late. Once they were inside and out of the crowded entranceway, the band admired the interior of the room. To their right was the living room area with a sofa and coffee table facing the TV hung on the wall. Left of them was the door to the kitchen and the stairs up towards the bedroom doors. The Swedish Chef could be heard cooking in the kitchen while most of the other Muppets were conversing with each other. Across from them was a balcony separated only by a few glass windows and a glass door. No lights illuminated the outside, creating almost a black void of the night.

"Hi-Ho, guys! Hey, it's great to see you all here. The bedrooms are upstairs, just take any empty room," Kermit greeted as he motioned to the stairs. All but one band member took a turn to greet the frog properly. Lips, the quietest band member, had his face practically buried in his phone with his thumb hovering over the digital keyboard pulled up on the screen. A wave of his hand was all the green dude had received as the trumpeter walked by. If anyone were to glance at the screen, they would see a string of text messages between him and another person. Yes, it was rude, but the three little dots were bouncing at the bottom left corner and he was anxious to see what the message was gonna be. He seemed stuck to the device even as the band arrived at their room, but Floyd pulled him out of his trance with a snap of his fingers.

"Lips, you've been stuck to that since we started the road trip. What's going on?" he asked, trying to see the screen. Lips reflexively dipped his phone away from the bassist's gaze and closed it with a click of a button. If anyone other than Piggy was gonna nosey in everyone's business, it was usually Floyd, Rizzo, or Pepe, and thank god the prawn and rat weren't around to peek. Truth be told, he'd been texting someone during the entire trip in hopes that they would be attending this menagerie of a party. That someone was Darrow, the tech crew member he met at Rowlf's Tavern. He had learned a lot about the new sound mixer over the past few months, and after learning about his discomfort around big crowds, half of Lips' hopes were up. On one hand, Rowlf may have lightly persuaded him to attend and socialize, but on the other hand, he would've wanted to stay home with some hot cocoa. And in true Lips fashion, he forgot to ask the band if he could stay behind for that reason.

"Just a friend, man," he mumbled, slipping his phone into his pocket. The band settled into the room as much as they could before going out to socialize with the others. Most of the time was spent talking to Muppets that hadn't been a part of their production in years and reminiscing on some backstage memories. Everyone ranging from Seymour to Mildred Huxtetter to Beard and even Zondra had decided to attend, even some who Lips didn't recognize. Being away from the Muppets for over ten years meant that one missed out on a lot of productions and new people that Kermit somehow wrangled in. Even being part of the Muppets now meant that new people were joining every month or so. During his thinking, Clifford had walked over and tapped his shoulder. The two hadn't spoken to each other since the Disney special, the first and only time they encountered one another.

"Lips! How's it been? Still play a mean trumpet?" Clifford asked, patting Lips' back. He responded with a shrug as his friend continued to talk. Good, he didn't feel like speaking at the moment, typical for a big event like this. This was to mainly avoid saying the wrong thing and have the least amount of attention towards him for saying something off. Since his phone was in his pocket, he didn't hear it buzzing with unread messages from Darrow. It didn't matter until later, when the trumpeter finally had time to himself and saw all of the three messages from Darrow, and the fourth being sent as he saw them. Getting caught up on the subject of music and art can really make time fly.