The studio lights flickered overhead, buzzing loud enough to set Gordon's teeth on edge.

“Still sounds like a beehive full'a bad decisions,” he muttered.

The building was quiet for once—not haunted quiet, just peaceful. Somewhere down the hall, a badly tuned ukulele twanged. Gordon shook his head and kept walking. Fresh posters lined the walls. New sets filled the studios. Color had finally replaced static.

At Studio A, he pushed open the big red door. Inside, puppet-sized buildings waited beneath warm stage lights, while excited voices whispered from the wings. A smile tugged at his weathered face. Setting down his toolbox, Gordon flipped the ON AIR switch.

“Alright, ya weird little Muppets,” he called. “Let’s give the world somethin’ worth watchin’ again.”