author: Lucinda

rated y-14?

main characters: Miss Piggy, Wesley Wyndham-Price

disclaimer: If you recognize them, they aren't mine. Miss Piggy is a muppet, and therefore legal rights go to Henson Puppetry, Wesley is the creation of Joss Whedon & his writers for the BtVS and A:tS television shows.

distribution: if you want this bit of insanity, just let me know.

notes: um, let's just say sort of AU after Wesley started working at AI in that they aren't working for W&H (because the evil law-firm are the bad guys) but that time has passed since Wes started working with Angel. The Muppet Theater has been closed.

Wesley tapped on the door, feeling a familiar tension at the back of his skull. It had been a very long day, and was well on it's way to being a very long night. Currently, they had discovered a rather dead acting agent, and had agreed to split up, notify his clients, and try to determine if any of the actors might have had something to do with the man's death.

Pieces of him had been found in little boxes, neatly stacked in the office. That sort of thing completely ruled out 'accidental death' or 'natural causes'.

"Who is it?" The woman sounded rather annoyed. "Don't you know what time it is?"

With a sigh, Wesley started his speech again. This was the third actor that he'd talked to today, and it was getting rather tedious. "Have you been using the services of the agent Kent Lanomer?"

"Kent? What does that lame-brain have to do with anything?"

The door was opened forcefully, revealing the fuzzy purple robed speaker. Her blond hair was only rib-cage high, causing Wesley to blink in surprise. He blinked again at the pink ears sticking up among the curls. Actually, she bore a rather strong resemblance to a pig...

"Err... he's dead." Wincing at the bluntness of those words, Wesley sighed. "Perhaps I could step inside?"

"My agent is dead?" The short woman repeated, tugging him inside the apartment. "Sit down and explain."

"I'm terribly sorry that you had to find out like this, ma'am, but Kent Lanomer was found dead earlier today. He was in his office," Wesley barely managed to keep himself from adding 'mostly' to his explanation. "He was murdered."

"And how does this involve moi? You'd better not be hoping to exploit my inevitable trauma..." She reclined over the arm of her chair, one arm thrown dramatically over her forehead.

Wesley found himself blinking once again. A tiny corner of his mind noted that for a pig, she was actually sort of pretty... He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts out of his head. He had to focus, not admire the woman's figure. Cautiously, he offered, "Perhaps you may have known if he had any enemies?"

She seemed to glance off to the right, muttering, "Did the man have any enemies? If you'd ever met him..."


Looking back at him the blond pig sighed, "There were plenty of people annoyed at Kent. Irritated by the cut he demanded, annoyed at the jobs he found us, angry that they'd lost money to him at cards." Pausing to bat her eyelashes, she asked, "Are you certain it wasn't accidental?"

"One does not accidentally end up dead and neatly packed in one hundred and seven boxes, each tied with a black ribbon and closed with a wax seal bearing a number thirteen," Wesley replied, trying not to snap.

"I guess that does rule out accidental death," she admitted. "Maybe I'd best check on the Count... Make sure he's still on his medication..."

"Miss Piggy, have you been satisfied with the parts that you've had lately?" Wesley asked, feeling just a little nervous.

"The last one had its down side. The singing was fine, the tight red outfit wasn't too bad, the little blond tart glaring at me on the set..." With a small shrug, she concluded, "You might want to look into her."

Scratching down a few notes, he glanced at her. "Are you in contact with any of the other actors who used Mr. Lanomer as their agent?"

"Some of us used to work at a theater before it was closed down due to some new safety codes. We've known each other for years..." She shook her head again. "Maybe we can do that again, it was more fun than doing commercials."

"Who ran the theater?" Wesley asked, wondering if it might be a useful avenue to investigate.

"Kermie and Scooter did," She reached into a drawer and pulled out a crumpled card, scorched along one edge. "Here, this was one of our cards."

Looking at the pale blue paper, Wesley read 'Muppet Theater - sketch comedy and special guest appeara' before the side had been burned into illegibility. The card had contact numbers for Kermit. J. Frogg and Scooter Dee, both of which were probably outdated.

"Thank you, Miss Piggy. This might be of help." Handing her one of the cards for Angel Investigations, he asked, "You will contact us if you think of anything else that might be useful, or if you hear anything?"

For several moments, Miss Piggy stared thoughtfully at the card. "You've met PePe?"

Deciding not to ask, Wesley repeated what had become the standard answer to any commentary about the logo that Cordelia had designed. "I've been told that it's supposed to be a stylized angel. One of the other members of our team designed it, and we decided not to argue with her."

"At least she's not trying to make a living as an artist," she murmured. "Of course I'll call if I hear anything."

As he politely excused himself, Wesley wondered if she'd really call if she heard anything. He also found himself wondering who or perhaps what PePe was if she thought of him on seeing the logo. However things would unfold, he had the feeling that he hadn't seen the last of Miss Piggy.

end Muppet Contracts: Meeting Miss Piggy