Original subtitles

Oh, that's great. I'll run it as an opening number. But, by the way, where's

Flash? He sometimes has trouble with punctuality.

Oh, Flash, where were you?

Oh, man.

Rough day, man. Sneak around the back.

What did he say?

He said he was forced to sneak around the back door to avoid them.

To avoid who?

The groupies, man.

Hey.

Hey, man.

I don't know what he said, but you better cut to the opening title. That's

he said.

And welcome to our show.

It's going to be a particularly special show because the lion is featured in

tonight's story.

Isn't that true, lion?

It's a tale told by the storyteller, and it's called The True Bride.

Anya, don't be frightened.

I've come to help you.

Where have you come from?

From your thoughts.

Is there no one in the wide world to take pity on me, you thought?

Well, there is.

And here I am.

Wait a second.

Did I just see you talking that?

You talked in that story.

Are you ever going to talk on our show?

I doubt it.

Well, anyway, in the first part of our show, I'm sure Kermit has a fast and

funny half -hour planned.

Isn't that true, Kermit?

Guys, would you all just be... Can you be quiet for just a second? Let me...

Flash, can you do something about this?

Shh!

Thank you.

Yes, on tonight's show, we have a ghost story from Fozzie Bear, and we have a

special treat from our musical guest star, Buster Poindexter. Yes.

And all of this is coming up in a flash.

What happened to your groupies? Well... And over here is where I keep my gumdrop

collection. Oh, gumdrops. That is so cute.

He's even cuter than... What's his name?

All right, Digit. Digit, you got the music video queued up? Yes, Kermit. All

good. Hey, gather around.

My shoes, you know, we can't lose as long as the music keeps rolling along.

I make my own decisions.

I go by my own rules.

I got to live the life I want to. I love food.

There you go.

Sometimes muddy water winds up on my path.

Ain't no time to stop.

Smile that smile and take us to the top.

Yeah.

When you get that feeling.

That was really fantastic. You guys can really.

Well, the synthesizers were really well played.

That's all done on the computer.

Even the drums?

Drum machine.

The singing?

Digital harmonizer.

Well, how do you guys know you're actually musicians?

Hey, who else would dress like this?

you to organize the closing number. Sorry, but I won't be here.

You're what?

I won't be here for the closing number. I'm judging a poultry show on the other

side of town.

Gonzo, how could you do this to me? I know. It's a difficult choice.

That's not a difficult choice. You're right. Poultry comes first.

That's Digit. What's he doing?

Uh,

Digit.

Digit's the only person in the world that I know with real headphones.

He actually has little speakers inside of his head.

Hey, Digit, turn it down.

Turn down the volume, Digit. Oh, hi, Kermit. Hi.

Sorry, I just can't get that song out of my head.

Well, let me turn down your volume here.

Thank you. Hey, look.

Oh, it's Buster Poindexter on the Guest Star Channel.

Oh, yeah, he's doing our closing production number tonight. It's a remote

nightclub across town.

They were here just a minute ago. Gee, who knows?

Maybe it's a satellite feed.

Or maybe they recorded this earlier.

Maybe it's a special effect.

You know television manipulates the heck out of you.

Hey, did you take the guest star channel?

Oh, certainly, boss.

Yeah, you know, Buster, like, we're, you know, really impressed with the way you

combine incredible style with incredible...

Well, gee, thanks a lot, Beard. That's very nice.

Being a fellow cool person, could there be something you could help us with,

show business -wise?

Well, there is something I could do for you. Oh, really? How's that? I can share

the truth with you, right? You want your musical cries for love and global

understanding heard by a sympathetic universe?

Yeah! You want success, fame, and fortune?

Oh, yeah!

My friends, you must work! You must go...

I knew I could get rid of them somehow.

Okay, well, we'll be back to Buster later.

Hey, tell me, Digit, what do you have coming in on the satellite that might

raise the tone of the show?

Oh, well, there's fish wrestling, how to tie dye waffles, and the old classical

drama channel.

Well, let's see. I hate fish wrestling, and we're sick of multicolored waffles,

and I don't want more drama, so I'll try the toy tea party. Channel 16.

What are you waiting for, Boots? The tea party.

Oh, look. Your first guest is here.

I'm so glad you could come to my tea party, Talking Teddy.

Hi, I'm Talking Teddy.

Would you like to give me a kiss?

Sure.

Hi,

Boots. Am I interrupting?

Brad, I'd like to introduce you to...

I thought this was going to be tea for two.

But that wouldn't be a real tea party, Brad.

Now sit down and make some chit -chat with Teddy.

All right.

How are you, Teddy?

Keep your hands off my string, final breath.

There's one more guest coming.

Don't be silly. You're standing right in front of me. No, I'm not. I'm at the

poultry show where any sane man would be. But I knew you'd miss me, so before

left, I had myself pre -recorded.

What? If you don't believe me, ask Digit. But, uh, how, if you're pre

how can you possibly answer my questions?

I'm just very good at predicting what you're going to say next, Kermit.

Gonzo, that is absolutely the most...

got your remote control with you?

Yep. I'm on tape deck four.

If you want to prove it, try rewinding me a little. You got your remote

control with you?

Yep. He's pre -recorded, all right. I'm on tape deck four. Yes, yes, we know

that. Of course you know that. You've watched that part of me twice now.

don't leave a message at the beep, he'll get right back to you.

Beep!

Little geek must have stopped taking his medication.

You know, that's the worst tape of Gonzo I've ever seen.

Oh, dear.

A power failure.

This could be serious.

This could be an emergency.

Uh -oh. It must be time for the ghost story.

Is anybody else around?

Is that you?

I hate this part.

I'm afraid this is the only room we rent out anymore.

I'm sure it'll be wonderful.

Adequate. Very tolerable.

No one comes around here much now that the new highway's open. Yeah, well, see,

I took a wrong turn and...

I'm going to Wall Street to become a big -time stockbroker.

Get ahead and be wealthy.

Yes. Yes, sir. I figure that I have an aptitude for bear market. Wall Street,

I'm a bear.

And another thing. Yes, ma 'am.

Whatever you do, don't open that closet door.

What, this closet right over here?

Oh, okay, fine. No, no, you don't understand what I'm saying.

When I say don't open that closet door,

I mean, for...

Breakfast with the ghost of Christmas past.

How about that? It's a yuppie ghost story.

Well,

a few laughs, a little decapitation, a good old -fashioned comedy.

I wonder what else is happening.

That's cute, but you're breaking our reality there.

Oh, sorry.

Pay no attention to me, Kermit. I'm still not here.

It's that pre -recorded Gonzo again.

See? Even though I'm gone, you still can't get rid of me.

That figures. You're not all here even when you are here.

Hey, wait a second.

You just got an idea.

Look at Camilla. Blue ribbon. Third year in a row.

Oh, good.

And I'm ready to do the closing number like you wanted.

Hey, hey.

Hey, you don't have to. Guess what? While you were out at the ghost story,

Buster Poindexter videotaped a great musical number for us. Fantastic. That

be our closing. Come on, let's put it on the machine.

Hey, I had my heart set on being in the closing number.

Tape is rolling.

Uh -huh.

And now, through the magic of videotape, Muppet Television proudly presents Mr.

Buster. Poindexter.

Thank you, Kermit.

You know, I was hoping that you'd be here to join in the number with us.

What?

Kermit, did you hear me? Come join us. I don't know what's happening here.

I'm talking to you.

But you can't be. You're on videotape. You can't be talking to me. Sure I can.

It's a little trick Gonzo taught me.

Oh, good grief.

Now, come on.

Join me. Be serious. You're on videotape and I'm here live in the control room.

It can't be done.

And the technology...

The Jim Henson Hour will return after these messages.

Now, here comes the story with the lion in it.

Oh, Kermit and the gang sent you that. That's a pedestal to put your Emmy on.

It's a bit premature, I think, but we'll soon see.

Here's John Hurt as the storyteller and a romantic tale known as The True Bride.

Trolls come at the bottom of the list of people you'd want as friends. They are

revolting trolls. They can't even stand each other.

The troll in this story had a daughter, and she left home straight off.

In her place, the troll found an orphan, a young girl to wait on him hand and

foot.

But this girl had more in store than to do for a troll.

Oh, no.

She had a destiny.

Tanya had no father and mother, and the troll was the other. So she obeyed him,

cruel though he was.

But one thing the troll could not abide was obedience.

Of course, if she didn't obey him, woe betide her.

I should have said, trolls are always contradicting themselves.

And the troll liked to contradict himself with a heavy stick.

It made a horrid sound as it flew through the air and onto the poor girl's

Blue, he contradicted on her back.

Black and blue.

I'm off with that.

Inside this sack are being 20 pounds of feathers.

Strip them and pack them before I come back.

Yes, sir.

And remember, I'm being allergic to feathers. A single one upsets my

nose, a quivering and a quaking, a shimmying and a shaking, and I don't

Be thank you to me, and full of great.

That's impossible by herself.

That's not fair.

I know.

She plucks and cleans and packs and packs, but still the feathers fill the

still the feathers fight the sacks.

Don't be frightened.

I've come to help you.

Where have you come from?

From your thought.

Is there no one in the wide world to take pity on me, you thought?

Well, there is.

And here I am.

Now, you're tired.

Sleep. I cannot.

The troll is my father and mother.

Since I have no other, I must obey him. Trust me.

Sleep. Thus persuaded, Anya lay down and fell into a slumber.

And when she woke, what a sight.

What a wonder.

Thank you.

I've recurred. Yes, sir.

You've done it.

Have you done them all?

I'm gassed and flabbered. I'm frowned and dumb.

Was that a smile?

No. No, sir. I don't like smiles.

Get to bed without this supper.

George!

Arise and wiki. I'm having another job for you.

Observe this pond.

Deep, you'd say.

And you'd be right.

Depths aplenty.

Drain it.

Drain it with your spoon.

And if I be recurring and find a drop of water, if I so much as get my pussy

wet, heaven help me.

Anya.

Lion, my spoon is full of holes.

You're tired, my little.

Lie down and sleep a while.

No, I dare not.

For my lord the troll will beat me with his terrible stick.

Lie down.

And then the lion pad padded to the pond and drank and drank and drank his fill.

And long before sunset, Had drunk it dry.

Well, I'm recurred. Is the pond dry?

Yes! Yes?

Yes, it is!

How abstractly puriating!

Are we sure?

You may laugh, but the troll's fall cost

the poor girl dear.

That night she could not... Sleep for the colours on her back from the

contradictions to take.

All night she sobbed from its blacks and blues.

And come the morning, the wicked troll has another task, worse than before.

Impossible.

All dry, you think.

All finished.

You'll be wrong.

Now you can build me a palatial.

All the bits, all the pieces.

By nightfall, miss.

Hours later, she's moved one rock a few inches.

Oh, dear lion.

But now even you cannot help me.

I'm to build a palace by nightfall, full of rooms and riches.

You're tired, my little.

Why not rest a while?

I cannot.

I dare not.

Sleep.

Rest.

And sleep she does, lying down beside him. And as she dreams, such magic.

How have you done this?

I know. I know I've not done as you ask.

Dear, oh, dear. The palace is here, but Anya didn't do it.

There is being a contradiction.

And when there's being a contradiction, we have to speak with our friend, don't

you think?

I don't know. Probably.

Very probably.

Certain, in fact.

Look. Rageous.

Absolutely rageous. A whole palace in one day.

This is more like it for an important troll.

Good.

Good. Chicken!

Good.

Yes, sir. And what about cherry?

Is there a celery for wine?

Go and be seeing.

Try that door.

Can't reach.

Let me fetch a line.

A true conceit perfectly clarified.

My little, but wicked and cruel.

I made the palace.

I also made the door.

Good. I hated that troll. He was bad through and through.

Oh, yes.

So then what?

Then our girl has a palace all to herself.

What a transformation.

For the first time in her poor life, Anya feels wonderful. Wonderful.

When word spreads of a lovely thing alone in a grand palace, well, they

her, the suitors, in droves. Prince La -dee -da of here, Prince La -dee -da of

there. But they're a trifle too much La or a little too much Dee and

occasionally plain Da.

And a year goes by until one morning she stands sighing at her window and, oh,

who's this?

He looks up.

She looks down, he smiles, she smiles.

Little fish swim up and down her back.

And suddenly each day she wants flowers in her room, flowers at her table,

flowers for her hair.

And gradually smiles turn to words, and words turn to whispers, and whispers

turn to kisses.

It's love.

She falls for the gardener. Why not?

She was a servant -turned -princess. Why not a gardener -turned -princess? You

were my true bride.

Am I?

Then let no one else ever kiss your cheek.

Never.

Never, ever.

Never, he says.

Never, ever.

But I'm sorry.

Hurt lurk. Pain prowls. Sorrow simmers.

Why? What happened?

Does a troll come back? Oh, no.

No?

Well, yes, in a manner of speaking.

Yes, he does.

And his wedding day is beckoning.

A beloved sets off one morning the long journey to the village. He has

appointments with the tailor and the barber and the shoemaker.

Spruced up he's going to be.

Won't you come?

No. There is my true soul to soul, and you mustn't see it.

But I'll count the minutes until you are home.

And she does.

She counts the minutes, counts them into the hour when the lamps must be lit,

counts them as fear curdles her stomach, counts the minutes as they turn into

days, as the tears begin to come.

One, two, three. Where were they?

No one knew.

And Anya could stand it no longer.

She set out alone in search of her sweetheart.

Until one day she finds herself wandering in the snow.

Lost and dejected.

Anya.

And without a word, the lion sets Anya on his back and starts... Soft, bounding

through the snow, huge strides, impossible speeds over cliff and cavern,

and chasm, cave and canyon, helter -skelter to a far -off land.

And there, in sight of a town, the lion set her down.

Now you must go.

Take these.

Inside there are gifts.

Use them wisely.

Thank you, dearest lion.

And Anya walks on, carrying the three gifts.

My beloved!

My darling!

She cries, and the rider looks at her, tips his hat, smiles politely, and

continues on his way.

Wait!

Please, wait!

No, no, she cries.

But it can't be. It can't be. The troll.

It can't be. He's dead.

And then she sees a pigtail, a diamond earring, a hint of silk at the throat.

It's not the troll.

It must be. It can't be. But it must be his daughter.

It is. It is the troll's daughter.

Twice as ugly, twice as foul, and she's riding off with her beloved.

Oh, Anya's dumbfounded. How?

And what's happened to her darling? He's forgotten her?

She's searched the world for him and he's forgotten her? He's gone off with a

trollop?

But then her resolve strengthens. I am the true bride and he my beloved.

And off she sets, determined.

On her way to the town, she meets a man who tells her about the troll's

daughter, the Trollope. She went to visit her dad, but he disappeared.

She met a handsome prince and brought him back to her castle.

He's under her spell.

They're betrothed. That Trollope's so greedy.

Sees gold, she wants it. Silver, she snatches it. She collects handsome men

ornaments.

My ornament, she calls them.

So instructed, Anya hurried to the town, a scheme forming, a plan.

Oi, that's being lovely, prettiness.

I need it.

Madam? I'm descending.

Is there a cost involved?

I'm expecting it's a gift for your queen.

How kind. And thank you.

It's magic, your majesty.

It cannot be sold.

Only exchanged.

Exchanged? For what?

Be more clarified.

A knight with your betrothed.

With my new ornament?

Rager! Then you must keep what is yours and me what is mine.

Milk. Yum.

Stay, Your Highness.

No. Back, back.

A night with my ornament.

And it's very sweetheart, you know.

How generous I'm being for such a small magic.

Yes. All right.

Yes.

Yes. The bargain is struck. The true bride to spend a night with her beloved.

Once alone, he'll know me.

My love.

My dear.

It's me.

Your true bride.

But he wouldn't wake.

Please wake up.

Couldn't wake. Please.

And how could he? For in the cup by his bed was a sleeping herb.

Powerful. Lasts all night until morning.

What can our girl do?

The bargain's been kept.

The first gift wasted.

What can she do but try again?

Impossible. Magic. Coin after coin dropped to the ground.

The trollop can't believe it. Boy, I can't believe it.

Quick, quick. The trollop wants the deal struck.

And once again, a knight with the beloved swapped for the endless gold

That night, the same story.

Darling. Whispers the true bride.

Beloved. But to no avail.

As for the prince himself, his days are vague, his nights dreamless.

Stop him and ask him his thoughts, and what would they be?

Oh, oh, well.

The trollop has rubbed away his past with a wicked spell.

He hasn't heard his true love singing the night through, weeping in the

Oh, he says, well.

But the prisoners have, their eyes blinking in the black, their ears sharp.

they've heard the clink of gold, but also the true bride's lament.

So the next day, when the prince is walking the ramparts, they call out to

Sleep at night that the beauty is singing by your bed.

Beloved, she calls you, and dearest.

Your true bride, she cries.

I am your true bride.

When do you hear these things?

All night.

All night.

He's heard nothing.

Who is his true bride?

He's very confused.

Very. And you see, he sleeps so deeply.

Every night he has his drink, then sleeps so deeply.

Oi, oi, I'm being so impatient for a new toy.

Let me see, let me see.

Oh, so meable, so agreeable.

I need them. And the deal is struck.

Hanya arrives for her vigil.

The final gift gone.

Will you never wake?

Don't cry.

What?

What?

Oh, my darling.

No, not there.

I promise you see, I'm not on my cheek.

Me? You promised me. And with that, she kissed him. And the trollop spell over

him fell away.

And his head cleared.

Such a tender kiss.

Such sweetness of cheek.

My true bride.

He whispers.

At the very same moment, in the vaults of the castle, a strange thing happens.

Very odd.

closes on them, nearer and nearer, until she must surely catch them.

But look! She can't believe it! Look who's here!

On his back they clamber at offy speeds, pounding the barren lands, huge

strides, impossible speeds, over cliff and cabin, crevasse and chasm, cave and

canyon, help to skelter!

Oh!

They made it!

I made it.

Thank you, lion.

And inside, lock the door, catch up their breath.

They light a fire and exchange their stories. And in between hugs and all the

wild kisses, the lion tosses back his proud mane and pads away, leaving the

lovers, but not before a final task unseen.

What? Ah, well, who have we forgotten?

The trollop. Where is she?

I don't know. Miles away, over cliff and cavern, crevice and chasm... Oh, no,

no, no, no! By the time the true bride and her beloved settle down to sleep,

she's arrived at the palace.

Once inside, he sniffed for them, her nostrils twitching and heaving, planning

her revenge.

There, her nose tells her, and stealing up, she hears their voices, clear and

unsuspecting, behind the door.

And from that day, our lovers lived peacefully.

Babies came to bless them and the sun forever shone.

And they kept a statue of the lion, whom they both called the Thorpe Lion.

And they told their children he could come alive in an instant if he wanted

or if they ever needed him.

But the children found that hard to believe.

You were great in that.

Wasn't he terrific?

But listen, now how come you never told us you could talk?

Hmm?

Are you going to talk anymore?

Come on, speak to us.

I have nothing further to say.

Well, maybe he will next week. We'll see you then.