Counts of Blood

Author: Lucinda

Rated T for teen due to insanity, violence and possible swearing.

Main characters: the Count, the Master. Presence of assorted minions and mention of other muppets.

Disclaimer: the Count and any other muppets mentioned belong to Henson Puppetry. The Master belongs to Joss Whedon & his writers. The minions are mine.

Distribution – if you want it, let me know.

Notes: Post Muppet Show, pre BtVS s1.

Danny spoke for a while about the old factory. He mentioned the surrounding beaches, with the stony beach to the south where the water demons tended to slip in and out of the town and the treacherous sandy beach just north where there was an unpredictable undertow, capable of stealing away even a skilled vampire swimmer. Bodies caught in the undertow sometimes washed up about fifty miles down the coast. He mentioned the rusted over rail spur that had been used to ship away fish or cans or whatever had been produced back in the twenties and thirties, when the factory had been used for industry, and the small rail yard that had still held a few rusting train cars a few years ago.

He asked Danny more questions, until he was certain that he knew where every last road that lead to the factory could be located and the best ways to get from here to there. He asked about the rail line, and about the ocean, frustrated by Danny’s lack of knowledge concerning the currents and tidal changes.

“You are frightening my minions again, old friend,” the Master’s voice held traces of amusement. “While I understand your desire to retrieve your frog and confess to wanting whoever interfered with my minion punished, I am uncertain that my resources will be sufficient.”

“Dvight and Thudge are in Sunnydale and vill insist that they be permitted to assist in Kermit’s rescue. Sveetums may assist us as vell, or perhaps he vill be detaining Maerrocholiths. Dvight and Thudge vill meet us near the abandoned Texaco station on the primary access road for the cannery. They are all large and strong, though not terribly smart,” the Count replied, tracing along the road on the map that he’d questioned Danny over.

“You wouldn’t have called in humans to work with my minions. What are Dvight and Thudge?” the Master rubbed at his chin, glancing from the Count to the map.

“I believe they are considered to be different clans of ogres, as Sveetums vould be,” the Count tapped at the edge of the map, and shook his head. “Sveetums might vell eat the Maerrocholiths and join the group assaulting the cannery. I simply consider them to be Kermit’s minions and leave the details to him.”

“Kermit has ogres for minions. What does a theater need ogres for?” the question slipped out.

“I believe he used them as a combination of security and moving heavy scenery as vell as some structural repairs. Sometimes the performances caused some damages to the theater… Kermit also had them accompany him to seweral meetings,” The Count shook his head, knowing that this was not the time to let himself get caught up in the memories of the Muppet Theater. Though things had certainly been interesting. Kermit’s abilities had been wasted as a reporter, simply wasted. Such waste was quite offensive, as he’d had to explain to the owner of the news station.

“Perhaps my minions will learn something from this. I will leave you to make your plans, my friend,” the Master left the room, shaking his head and muttering something that the Count didn’t catch.

It took another two hours before it was late enough that the minions would follow. The Texaco station was on the way towards the cannery, and the Count was confident that the ogres would be capable of dealing with any security demons that the one responsible for taking Kermit might have available. Letting his mind flit over the various possible reasons why someone might have taken Kermit – ranging from the need of a weather frog to a taste for amphibian and including thirty one magical rituals, the Count made his way up the ladder to the manhole cover. “…three rungs, four rungs, five rungs, six rungs, sewen rungs…”

The cover was removed, and a face covered in shaggy blue and purple fur with a couple sharp teeth jutting out grinned down at him. All three eyes blinked before a raspy voice emerged between the teeth, “Count! This place is amazing! We have to tell Oscar about it!”

“Vhat vould Oscar vant vith Sunnydale? It seems far too sunny for his tastes,” the Count asked, stepping to the side and wiping his monocle off with a dark green handkerchief.

Thudge glanced around, and leaned down so that his head was only a foot above the Count before he attempted to whisper, “Rental real estate.”

“Is that vhat he’s been up to since he left Sesame Street. I had noticed that his trashcan seemed to have become the home of Grungetta instead… You say he is renting space?” The Count let his mind drift along that thought, considering the average amount of space required on a sidewalk for the traditional round aluminum trashcan – most falling between thirty two and thirty seven inches in diameter – and considered the many alleys in Sunnydale. There were also so many abandoned buildings…

“The Maerrocholiths don’t know much.”

The deeper voice of Dwight caused several of the minions to jump. Looking up at the massive figure, one of the minions made a noise rather like a squeak and almost fell back down the still-open manhole.

“They are not wery smart. Vhat did they have to say, Dvight?” the Count asked the other ogre.

“Ummm….” One massive hand rubbed at his chin, and the other hand lifted the bony arm of a Maerrocholith, absently using the arm to scratch the back of his shoulders. “The place is near the ocean, stinks of fish, and their boss is a sorcerer. But he doesn’t have a walking broom or a mouse apprentice.”

“Anything else?” The Count replaced his monocle, and glanced around. There was no sign of the rest of the Maerrocholith, or of any additional remains. The fuel pumps remained, with a pair of large vans parked next to them. A swarm of shaggy, snaggle-toothed creatures were hanging on the farther van, their eyes gleaming in the streetlights.

“There’s not much meat to them.”

“If this sorcerer has other minions, they might be a bit more substantial. Ve have the address and directions,” he turned to the minion vampires. “Danny, give the directions to Dvight.”

The directions and a map passed over to the ogre, Danny glanced around, as if searching for something.

The Count ignored Danny the minion’s distress as he made his way to Dwight’s van, settling himself in the passenger side seat. He noticed as he fastened his seat belt that the driver’s side front seat had been removed. “Ve do not know the reason vhy Kermit vas taken. I suggest ve rescue him as soon as possible.”

“yessir,” Dwight grunted, tossing the Maerrocholith arm to the side as he made his way to the van.

After that, it was only one hundred and thirty seven seconds before both vans were rumbling down the road towards the former factory where Kermit had been taken.

End part 16.