People didn’t typically live in trailer parks. Like, ever. According to Kermit, anyway. Being friends with him came with a lot of out-of-pocket comments and winded yap sessions and a lot of outrageous fashion decisions.

Being friends with him also meant you were obligated to come to his trailer park, go through a tour you’ve had to walk through several times, and meet the new residents, which were often older folk who talked too slow. It was… lame. Uneventful. It was only slightly entertaining because he kept having to pause to catch his breath. Funny, considering there wasn’t a lot to be said about a drab, run-down place like this. Somehow he managed to say more words about it than you had ever written in every school essay combined.

At least it was time for the grand finale: Kermit’s very own, state-of-the-art trailer. It was small but decorated, and the back was loaded with bumper stickers.

He ushered you in with a grin, having to shut the door sharply in order to have it close properly.