TM: 170. Time
Kermit owned quite a number of watches but he rarely, if ever, wore them.
"Why not?" asked the Reporter for a Big Name Newspaper.
"I don't really need one," replied Kermit as he jotted a note in bold green ink on the script in front of him.
"Aren't you the manager of the Muppet Show?"
"Yes, I am." Without looking up from the podium, he held out a flipper with the edited page just in time for it to be grabbed by the lighting gaffer on his way into the wings.
"And aren't you the host as well?"
"That's right." Kermit pitched his voice a bit louder to be heard over the concordant strains of the orchestra as they began tuning up.
"So you're the one responsible for the performance starting on time."
"Absolutely." Kermit reached under the podium and pulled out a rubber chicken.
"Hey, has anyone seen my - Aaaaahah! So that's where I left it! Thanks Kermit!" Fozzie grabbed the prop in a thick paw and paused just long enough to tip his battered brown hat to the Reporter before dashing off.
"But how can you do that without a watch?" The Reporter glanced around the backstage area and the pandemonium of fuzzy, furry, feathered performers. "I don't see a clock back here, either."
"Uh, no. We don't keep one. It kind of makes everyone nervous. Especially the guest stars."
"Then how can you know how much time is left before your show begins?"
"Oh, that's pretty easy. I don't need a watch for that."
"No?" The Reporter's tone was clearly skeptical. "Okay, Mr. Muppet Show Host. How much time left before curtain?"
"Oh Kermie?"
"Four minutes," he replied decisively as he turned to look up at the dressing rooms. "What is it, Piggy?"
"Does this dress make moi look fabulous?" The Porcine Princess did a heavy turn in a blue taffeta dress, rattling the upper landing.
"It looks fine."
"But does it make moi look faaaaabulous?" she pressed with a flutter of long lashes.
"Okay. Sure. Whatever. You look fabulous. And you've got three minutes til your opening number."
Ms. Piggy blew him a kiss before flouncing off to her dressing room for finishing touches.
"So according to you there's three minutes until the curtain goes up, right?" The Reporter looked down at his Mouse watch. "Well, according to my-"
"Three minutes to curtain!" announced Scooter with his customary exuberance as he made the rounds backstage. "Three minutes, everybody!"
"Thank you, Scooter," said Kermit, setting down his coffee cup.
"Sure thing, Boss."
The Reporter scratched his balding bean. "How'd you do that?"
Kermit shrugged. "That's showbiz."