The door swings open to Doc's workshop and a very angry Doc storms in holding a broken wrench.

"Shimmelfinney broke my wrench!"

"Row?" Sprocket asked.

"Yes, Sprocket. I was trying to fix Ned's sink, I walked away for two minutes, come back and saw him holding the broken wrench! He had tried to fix the sink himself and failed, breaking the wrench!"

"Row…" Sprocket sympathized.

"I'm never talking to Ned AGAIN!"

"Row?"

"Never, Sprocket."

Down in Fraggle Rock, Gobo had accidentally broken Boober's lucky walking stick…

"Gobo! Look what you've done!" Boober exasperated as he looked with shock and pain at his broken stick. "You've broken my lucky walking stick AGAIN!"

"Boober," Gobo said impatiently. "For the last time, it's just A STICK!"

"No it's NOT! You don't understand!"

"Yeah, I understand… that you're a complete weirdo! How can you think that a dumb old stick is going to make you have good luck?"

"Because it does! Every time I have this stick with me, I'm never in danger!" Boober explained.

"That's just a coincidence! There's nothing dangerous in Fraggle Rock!"

"Shhh…They'll hear you!" he whispered, paranoid.

"WHO will hear me, Boober?" Gobo said irritably. "Your imaginary beasts and monsters?"

Boober gasped, then muttered, "Doodlebug, Doodlebug, Doodlebug…"

"What are you mumbling about?"

"I have to ward off the bad spirits!" he exclaimed.

"Boober, I'm tired of your nonsense! If you don't stop this foolishness, I can't be your friend anymore."

"Well excuse me for trying to save your life! EX-friend!" he added.

"Good riddance!"

They both parted with a "HMPH!"

Gobo went to get his postcard from his uncle and Boober went to mope in his hole.

Wembley noticed this and said, "Boober! What's wrong?"

"Oh…Gobo and I had a fight and we're no longer friends."

"WHAT?" Wembley was shocked.

"Yeah, he broke my lucky walking stick, wasn't sorry and…stopped being my friend."

"Well, surely Gobo will come and apologize!"

"I'm afraid this is the end, Wembley."

"Nonsense! I'll go talk to him!"

"Hey, you can't talk to Gobo, and be my friend."

"What?"

"You're going to have to choose between me and Gobo."

"How?" Wembley couldn't imagine choosing between his two best friends.

"If you're friends with me you'll always be safe and prepared!"

"Well, yeah, that's a good thing…"

Though this sounded like a good friend to have, he still ran after Gobo regardless.

"Gobo! Gobo!"

"Oh, hi Wembley. Do you want to hear my Uncle Matt's postcard?"

"In a minute. First, I was talking to Boober, and…"

"Hold it. You can't talk to Boober and be my friend."

"Huh?" Wembley did not like this at all.

"CHOOSE, Wembley."

"Um…"

"If you choose me, you'll get fun and adventure. If you choose Boob-head, you'll get nothing but worries and paranoia."

"Ugh…"

"Exactly. Now choose."

"Uh…Uh…AAAAH!" He ran out of the room.

As he was running through the rock, he was stopped by Mokey.

"Oh, Wembley! What's wrong?" she sympathized.

"I'm having to choose between Gobo and Boober and I can't do it!"

"Choose? What do you mean?"

"They're not friends anymore and they're making me choose between them!"

"Oh, that's ridiculous! You don't have to choose!"

"I don't?" Wembley scratched his head.

"Well, of course not, silly! And they're probably just having a little fight. They'll be friends again in no time!"

Wembley was so confused. Gobo and Boober wanted him to choose, but Mokey said he didn't have to. He couldn't decide what to do…He could never decide anything very easily. It was so hard to choose just what he wanted for breakfast, but deciding between friends, now that was going to be a tough one.

"Oh what am I going to do?" he thought hopelessly, as he lay on his bed in his hole. Then he started to sing:

"I wemble left, and wemble right

I try so hard with all my might

But it's so hard to choose

Why do my friends make me pick

The way they fight, it makes me sick

.

Why should I have to choose

Why can't I be friends with both of them

It shouldn't be this way

I love them both

And they should know

That's how it's going to stay

.

If only they'd not fight

It would set things right

And I wouldn't have to choose

.

It's so hard to see them like this

I really wish that they would quit

Because I don't want to choose

.

Why can't I be friends with both of them

It shouldn't be this way

I love them both

And they should know

That's how it's going to stay"

Just then, Gobo walked in and said, "Hey Wembley. So you decided to pick me, eh?"

"No, not exactly…"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not picking either one of you!"

"You're ditching both of us?"

"No. I'm going to be friends with both of you!"

"Wembley," Gobo said angrily. "You can't do that!"

"Yes I can!" he said bravely. "And soon you two will get of this anyway!"

"Says who?"

"Mokey."

"Mokey doesn't know anything! I'm never going to talk to Boober again!"

"You can't go through your whole life not speaking to him, Gobo. You both live in Fraggle Rock!"

Gobo drew in a breath. "That could change…It's about time I follow the footsteps of my Uncle Matt and…go into Outer Space."

"OUTER SPACE? No, Gobo! You wouldn't leave Fraggle Rock over a silly fight, would you?"

"I'll do whatever it takes."

"This is silly Gobo."

"I think I'll start packing now…"

"Gobo…Oh…." He ran to find Boober. He found him doing laundry. "Boober!"

"Oh, hi Wembley. So you decided to pick me?" he smiled.

"No, I'm going to be friends with both of you." Boober scowled at this, but Wembley continued. "And Gobo's about to leave Fraggle Rock!"

"Why should I care?"

"Because you know that deep down he's your friend and you will stop fighting soon!"

Boober merely grunted and continued washing.

Wembley ran after Mokey and found her with Red.

"Gobo's about to leave Fraggle Rock! He refuses to speak to or see Boober again, so he's leaving!"

The girls gasped, and Mokey said, "Red, go stall Gobo. Wembley and I are going to the trash heap. She took Wembley's hand and started to run.

Red went to stall Gobo. "Gobo!" she screamed, running toward him and crashed into him.

"Where's the fire, Red?" he had a knapsack with him.

"You're not really LEAVING, are you?"

"I'm afraid so, Red…"

"Oh, but you can't leave! We'll miss you too much!"

"It's the way it has to be…" He turns.

"Um...Read me your postcard!" She yelled desperately, trying to stall.

Gobo turned slowly. "But you hate hearing those."

"Just read it, please!"

"Well, okay…" he took out the postcard, cleared his throat and read, "Dear Nephew Gobo, I was riding on a bus the other day and I saw one of the silly creatures playing with some kind of hand held device. I asked him what he was playing and he told me Super Mario. He let me try it and it was very intriguing. You could control a little silly creature on the screen. He could run and jump on his enemies. I kept getting hit by the enemy, however. I got so frustrated that I threw the game out the window. Then, realizing that the game was the silly creature's, I threw myself out the window and made a run for it. Love, your Uncle Traveling Matt."

Mokey and Wembley had arrived at the Trash Heap.

"Madame Trash Heap," Mokey started.

"You're in the presence of the all knowing…" Philo started.

"All seeing…" Gunge continued.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Mokey butted in, rather irritably. "We've got a problem!"

"What else is new?" Philo said sarcastically.

"Hush," Marjory said. "What is it, my fraggle?"

"Our two friends are in a big fight and one of them is about to leave Fraggle Rock!"

"Oh, dear…He can't do that. Two friends fighting must be brought to the Trash Heap at once."

"Will you be able to make them stop fighting?"

"I can try…Bring the two fraggles to me."

"Okay…Wembley, you go get Gobo and I'll get Boober," Mokey said.

Wembley scurried off to find Gobo. He didn't have a great plan to get him to go to the trash heap with him. He just simply ran up to him and said this:

"Gobo! Gobo!"

"Yes, Wembley? Have you talked to Boober lately?" Red was still with him; she'd accomplished stalling him just long enough.

"No."

"Good…" he smiled. "So what's up?"

"The Trash Heap needs you!" he said desperately and rather stupidly.

"Needs me? Why?"

"Don't question the great Trash Heap!"

"Yeah!" Red agreed, pushing him forward a bit.

Gobo just shrugged and followed Wembley.

"Boober!" Mokey said.

"Oh, hi Mokey."

"You need to come with me to the Trash Heap."

"Why?" he asked curiously.

"Because."

"I sense a trick!"

"There's no trick. Can't a fraggle ask her friend to come to the Trash Heap with her?"

"Without there being a catch? No."

"Oh come on, Boober!" She knew he's be difficult.

"Oh fine…But only because I need to ask her where my detergent went…"

Mokey didn't question. She just led him to the Trash Heap.

When they arrived, they saw Gobo and Wembley already there.

"OH, no!" Boober objected. "I'm not going over there! I see what you're doing!" he tried to run away, but Mokey wouldn't let him.

At the same time, Gobo was saying, "Wembley! I know what you're doing and it's not going to work!" he tried to leave and Marjory said firmly, "You're not going anywhere, little fraggle."

Gobo shut up and stopped dead in his tracks. "And you over there!" she called to Boober. "Get your fraggley hind quarters over here!"

Boober whimpered and cringed, but Mokey pushed him in the direction of the Trash Heap.

"Now, you fraggles," Marjory said to Gobo and Boober, who were facing away from each other, arms crossed. "Why are you fighting?"

Then came a collision of "He broke my lucky walking stick and didn't even care!"/ "He was being over dramatic about a stick and he always does stuff like that!"

"QUIET!" Marjory shouted. They shut up. "One at a time. Here, you—the one with the hat—speak your side of the story."

"Well, Gobo broke my lucky walking stick, didn't apologize and said I'm too superstitious!"

"Well he is!" Gobo exclaimed. "I broke a dumb stick. He can get a new one!"

Marjory was laughing.

"What's so funny?" Mokey asked, confused.

"They're fighting over the dumbest things! Look…You—with the hat—you're overreacting. You—purple hair—need to respect your friend. So what if he is superstitious? It's what makes him who he is! That's no reason to stop being his friend!"

Boober and Gobo looked down at the ground.

"Ah…See?" Marjory said. "Now look at each other."

They slowly raised their heads up, sheepishly.

"I guess we have been acting rather foolishly, huh?" Gobo said.

"Yeah…"

"I'm sorry, Boober…"

"I'm sorry, too, Gobo. And I guess I was overreacting a bit."

"Maybe, but I need to respect you a little more…It's okay that you're superstitious…Friends?"

"Friends," Boober agreed.

They hugged each other.

"Yay!" Wembley exclaimed. "They're friends again! Now I don't have to choose!" He was so relieved for that.

"We should've never made you choose, Wembley," Gobo admitted. "That wasn't fair on your part."

"Plus," Boober said. "You never would've chosen anyway. You would've made yourself crazy trying until your brain exploded!"

"Boober," reprimanded Gobo.

"Well it's the truth!" he protested.

"Fraggles!" shouted Marjoy, reprimanding them.

"Sorry…" they both apologized.

As they were walking back to Fraggle Rock, Wembley said, "I'm so glad you're friends again! I didn't want you to leave, Gobo!"

"I didn't want to leave, either, Wembley. I would miss you guys too much."

Just then, Red came around the corner and said, "You're not still leaving, are you Gobo?" she gulped.

"No, Red. I'm staying here," he smiled.

"Thank goodness!" she ran toward him and gave him the biggest hug.

"It's good to have such good friends," Gobo said.

Back at Doc's workshop, Doc and Sprocket were sitting at the work table. They were pretty bored.

Sprocket motioned towards the telephone. Doc shoved it away and said, "I'm NOT calling Shimmelfinney! He broke my wrench!"

"Row?" he gave Doc a—that's a dumb reason—kind a look.

"He shouldn't have touched my wrench!"

"Row?" Sprocket tapped his paw impatiently.

"Oh…You're right, Sprocket. It does sound rather silly…to stop being someone's friend over a wrench…"

"Row row," he nodded approvingly.

"I'm going to call Ned right now…" he picked up the phone and dialed Ned's number. "Ned? Hi, it's Doc…I just wanted to apologize…Yes, I'm sorry. I was being foolish…Friends? Oh, good! Would you like to come over? Bring Fluffinella with you? Of course! That sounds wonderful!"

"Row…" Sprocket groaned.

"Isn't this great, Sprocket?"