TM: Tell the truth about something which you usually lie about
[with apologies to the Muppet Movie]
The piano player looked up to see the bar's lone patron still staring mournfully into his drink. If there was one thing he hated it was watching a frog down in the dumps and ruining a perfectly good grasshopper.
"Let me guess," said Rowlf in a gruff voice. "Women troubles, right?"
Kermit sighed. "Does it show?"
He barked a laugh. "Listen. When you've been tickling the ivories as long as I have, you see a lot of heartache and broken dreams."
"Why's that?"
Rowlf shrugged. "Guess it's the kind of thing bar flies attract." His paws ran down the length of the yellowed keys, coaxing out a surprisingly pleasant melody. "So. What happened?"
"She just walked out on me."
"Yeah? Ain't that like a woman? Typical! That's why I live alone. Stay away from women, that's my motto."
"That sounds pretty simple," agreed Kermit with a mournful nod. "Except, I can't. She's in my blood. I know I should just move on but I can't seem to get her out of my head."
"Wrong body part."
"Excuse me?"
"It's not your head you should be worrying about," advised Rowlf. "It's that little green heart of yours. If you're not careful, she'll just stomp it flat. That's what some women do best, ya know. Love 'em and leave 'em. Kinda what your lady friend did to you." He switched the melody to something a bit livelier. "Maybe it's time for you to hop over to another lily pad, if you get my meaning."
"I think I do. But . . ." Kermit gave a nervous swallow before croaking out, "What if I love her?"
Rowlf shook his shaggy head, heaved a heavy sigh, and said, "Then I think you're screwed."