Gilda Meets Oscar

by PensacolaRanger

Part 1 - The Griffon and the Grouch

Gilda Griffon didn’t remember falling asleep. Most living things don’t; they simply drop off into unconsciousness when tired, and simply lose themselves in a deep, black, endless and featureless void, sometimes dreaming, sometimes not, until the slow first light of dawn brings them back to wakefulness.

But tonight, clearly…if it was night, and if Gilda was asleep…it was a clear, vivid and colorful dream, and as bright as day, it seemed. Except...it seemed a lot brighter & sharper than natural daylight. Like studio lights on a high-resolution TV picture. Whatever that was. Griffons didn’t have TV sets. Only those rich snooty ponies in Manehattan did.

“Yeah, that’s it...” thought Gilda, “…I must be in Manehattan. Only…where are all the ponies? Or griffons? Or dragons, yaks, buffalo, zebras, manticores, phoenixes…or any other creatures I’m used to seeing? Hmm…maybe this isn't Manehattan. Maybe I’m…”

Gilda stopped, and shuddered. “Mm…maybe I’m not even in Equestria anymore. But how? Why?”

Then the griffon glowered and growled: “Hmmm…and who? If this is that Draconnequs Discord’s doing, I swear I’m ‘gonna get even with him if it’s the last thing I ever do!" She shook a foreclaw in the air at the thought! But then the griffon sighed, and twisted her beak into a wry half-smile. “Hmm…well, I’ll worry about that, later. As long as I’m here, wherever here is, I might as well take a good look around…”

Gilda whipped her feathered head all about to take in her surroundings. She stared up at the brownstone tenement apartment building, at the clapboard fence, garbage pile and curbside mailbox to its right, and a fire hydrant, garage & tire swing on its left. Beyond that, Gilda eyed a street-corner general store, a fix-it shop and other storefronts, and a large wire mesh wastebasket on the other curb, just outside the store.

Turning her head back to the fence, garbage pile & mailbox, Gilda also noticed a tall green lamp post, and an oddly-shaped sign on it.
The sign was green with a yellow border and bold white lettering, but since Gilda never studied any languages beyond the borders of Griffonstone or Equestria, or outside of her elementary classes at Cloudsdale Flight School, she couldn’t read the sign to tell her
where she was.

Or for that matter, what she was hearing. Faint traffic noises with no traffic was one thing, but faint traffic noises with a slow light-jazz beat and a blues harmonica playing on top of it? She couldn’t even tell where that music was coming from. It was just…in the air. Where was it coming from, the rooftops? What in the world was up with that?

Whoops!! But she did know the sound of approaching footsteps when she heard it! Not wanting to be seen, Gilda darted her head around madly to locate a good hiding place. Having only a split-second to decide, she crouched & leapt like the lion she half-was (her wings spread out & flapping for lift) and dove over a short stone barrier to the left of the front steps to the brownstone!

***

A gaggle of strange creatures passed by, chattering noisily. Some were upright with hairless bodies and plain clothes, though they did have hair on their heads. (One had it right on his face, just below the nose. Gordon, the others called him.) Some were older, a few were younger. Children, Gilda guessed. One was a tall creature covered in bright-yellow feathers, but had long orange 3-toed feet, ridged with purple rings, or whatever. A very big bird indeed, as he seemed to be called.

Big Bird also seemed to be carrying on in an enthusiastic singsong voice, excited about something he’d learned that day and was sharing it with the others. Bringing up the rear was his friend: a large furry brown earless elephantine creature with melancholy puppy-dog eyes. When he spoke, it sounded like his voice was coming through the far end of a long plastic tube. His trunk made a snuffling sound as he walked, following the others and chuckling deeply. ‘Snuffleuppagus’ the others addressed him as. Gilda furrowed her feathered brow at that name.

But one figure (the one they called Bob) stopped short of the rest. Furrowing his own brow, he turned to see something on the stone barrier near the brownstone. Gilda winced; she forgot to pull her lion’s tail up over the barrier! Bob stared at it, not sure what he was seeing. He turned his head back to the others, as if wondering if he should keep up with the group, or stop and investigate this strange object. But just as he was turning back to look at it again---zoop! It was gone. He glanced around, but couldn’t find it again.

“Hmm, that’s strange…” Bob muttered, scratching his head in puzzlement.
“Oh, well…” he said after a pause, shrugging at last, and hastened back after the group.

***

Only the top of Gilda’s white feathered head, with her gold-colored eagle eyes blinking, rose slightly above the barrier. Thank goodness that annoying music had finally faded out, though the faint traffic noises didn’t. “Whew…that was a close one.” she whispered, not wanting to be overheard.

No good. She was, anyway.

From one of the open windows in the basement apartment of the tenement building, a voice said: “Oooh…would you look at that? Oh, Bert…hey, Bert, come on over here and take a look at this?"

Gilda couldn’t see who was speaking, as a thin pale-blue curtain seemed to cover the open window. Determined to discourage the veiled onlooker, she turned her head sharply around, raised a claw to her beak and said: “SHH!” (Like a certain purple pony librarian she remembered from back home.)

“Oooh…okay, sheesh…” the voice said back, a little bit flustered.

“(*Sigh*) What, Ernie? Take a look at what?" said another voice, impatient by the sound of it, as was
Gilda right at that moment. She used the distraction to her advantage, and flapped off like a bird!

“Aww, too late, Bert, you scared it away.” said Ernie.

“Well, what was it? What did it look like?” asked Bert.

“Oh, some half-bird half-cat creature. Kee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!" Ernie laughed, in his own peculiar fashion.

“Oh, Ernie, you and your jokes. Come away from the window. You’re making me miss my favorite TV show: ‘The Wonderful World of Pigeons.’ Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh!" Bert laughed in his own peculiar fashion.

“Okay, Bert…” said Ernie, closing the window.

***

Peeking up from her new hiding place just behind the garbage pile, Gilda shook her head in exasperation.
“Oh, boy…this weird place is getting weirder all the time. Something or someone around here’d better start
making sense somehow, and soon!" she groused.

Then she stiffened, realizing something. “Why am I suddenly spouting S-words?”

It was then that she noticed…a large white letter ‘S’ hovering in the air to her left.

“Is that what you are: an ‘S’? (*Sigh*) Okay, okay, you’re an ‘S’! Now SHOO!" Gilda shouted!
And taking a deep breath, she blew the letter ‘S’ away!

The griffon clapped a foreclaw over her eyes. “What more can happen today?” she groaned.

***

Just then…Gilda heard from up the street, the banging & bumping of something…metal.
“Oh, no...now what?” she whined.

Gilda peered as high as she could over the pile of garbage bags and boxes, and saw… no… it couldn’t be! But…yes, it was!

Gilda Griffon stared in wide-eyed amazement at-----a walking trash can, with green furry feet.

It seemed to be singing as it plodded along:

"Doo, dee, doo...doo-dee-doo, doo, dee, doo..."

The voice was gruff and gravel-like. The gait was slow but steady. Garbage was everywhere
on the street, but the can just got up to it, and seemed to gulp it up grossly, as it landed on each pile.

“Mmm…good." it seemed to say.

“Aww, good grief…” said the griffon, face-clawing herself. “Now it’s G-words!”

Then Gilda looked to her right…and saw a large red letter ‘G’ perched on the stone tenement steps.

“(*Sigh*) ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, I GET IT, YOU’RE A ‘G’! NOW GET 'OUTTA HERE!"
she groused again, and swatted the letter ‘G’ away with a wing!

***

"Slimy day...sweepin' the, trash away... on my way, to where pollution's sweet..."

The walking can continued singing, keeping time with each step it took. It soon reached the garbage
pile and boxes, and proceeded to march right up to where Gilda was hiding.

"One, two, three, four..." it counted as it climbed.

“Aw, COME ON!" snapped the exasperated griffon, as she dove for cover again!

"Can you tell me how to get, how to get to---(*CLANK!*)

It never finished the song, as it landed soundly on its perch, above the boxes, in the garbage pile.
"Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh..." the can seemed to be chuckling.

Gilda waited a long while. When nothing more seemed to happen, she peeked up again.

“Okay, that does it. Enough is enough!" she said, with a tone of finality.

Landing on top of the trash can lid and resting on her haunches, she bent her head down
and pecked hard & loud on the grimy metal surface! BANG-BANG-BANG!

“Owwww…” Gilda winced in pain, as she wrinkled her dirtied, battered beak.

“HEY! WHAT GIVES??” a grating, irritated voice echoed from deep within!

Gilda Griffon leapt down on the street pavement to the left side of the can, and sprang up on her feline hind legs,
leaning her eagle foreclaws forward on the rim of the can, to face whomever or whatever, lived inside the receptacle.

"COME OUT, COME OUT, WHOEVER YOU ARE! WE NEED TO TALK!!" She bellowed!

The can lid flew open, and a shaggy green hand grabbed the edge of the can fiercely!

It was followed immediately by an equally shaggy green head, with a thick brown uni-brow and piercing white eyes
with coal black pupils, staring furiously at the unwanted visitor.

The wide mouth parted open, revealing a gaping, toothless black maw, and a bright-red tongue that seemed ready
to clip a hedge clean in one strike! The mouth bellowed right back: "HEY, WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA---huh?"

The eyes widened. And the uni-brow raised a bit.
Then the eyes blinked a few times, evidently not believing what they were seeing.
Then the uni-brow furrowed, and un-furrowed a few times, as if its owner had no clue what to say next.

Gilda Griffon simply flicked her wings, leaned in, gold eagle eyes blazing, and said:

"WHAT'RE YOU LOOKIN' AT, MOP-HEAD?"

[TO BE CONTINUED…]

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: This fan-author respectfully acknowledges the character of Gilda Griffon to be owned & copyrighted by Hasbro Studios & DHX Media, and the characters of Gordon, Bob, Bert & Ernie, Big Bird & Snuffaluppagus, to be owned & copyrighted by Sesame Workshop, Inc., and makes no claim whatsoever to ownership of any such intellectual properties. This manuscript was produced solely as recreational writing as a hobby; not for profit. All rights reserved.