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Watermelon Snow
By : pronker
Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar
Views: 2672 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction using the Penguins of Madagascar characters owned by Dreamworks. -
Chapter List
- 1-Watermelon Snow
- 2-2/50
- 3-3/50
- 4-4/50
- 5-5/50
- 6-6/50
- 7-7/50
- 8-8/50
- 9-9/50
- 10-10/50
- 11-11/50
- 12-12/50
- 13-13/50
- 14-14/50
- 15-15/50
- 16-16/50
- 17-17/50
- 18-18/50
- 19-19/50
- 20-20/50
- 21-21/50
- 22-22/50
- 23-23/50
- 24-24/50
- 25-17-18/50 SLASH INTERLUDE BETWEEN CH. 17 AND 18. AU ON 'WATERMELON SNOW'
- 26-24A/50 SLASH VERSION OF CH. 24 FOR KICKS AND GIGGLES *** AU ***
- 27-25/50
- 28-26/50
- 29-27/50
- 30-28/50
- 31-29/50
- 32-30/50
- 33-31/50
- 34-32/50
- 35-33/50
- 36-34/50
- 37-35/50
- 38-36/50
- 39-37/50
- 40-38/50
- 41-39/50
- 42-40/50
- 43-41/50
- 44-42/50
- 45-43/50
- 46-44/50
- 47-45/50
- 48-46/50
- 49-47/50
- 50-48/50
- 51-49/50
- 52-50/51
- 53-51/51
Private slalomed back down the icy roof to the gutter. From there, his leap twenty-five feet down to the battlement occurred with no conscious work on his part. He launched into Routine Thirty-Two: Confuse And Distract. "Look at me, you knucker! I'm the littlest and easiest to catch!" He ran in esses before the battling pair. "Hey, come and get me!" He staged a slip-and-fall when neither Skipper nor Sasquatch paid him mind.
Right, then. It was time for Routine Eighteen, which admittedly worked best with flying birds. "Oh oh oh, I'm hurt, whatever shall I do?" As well as dragging one flipper on the ground, he shuffled and moaned. "Goodness me, I can't run away!" Private produced his signature touch. He lurched along as he added a sprained ankle to the broken flipper. "Oh dear oh dear oh dear!" He threw in a convincing scream because he knew that Skipper would recognize the routine since it was his own invention.
If Skipper heard him, he didn't let on. Sasquatch glanced at the commotion for a precious moment, allowing Skipper to wriggle his compact muscular body downwards on his foe to assay Routine One. Skipper delivered a firm kick to the crotch that would give any mammal pause, male or female. It had no effect on Sasquatch. Private saw the bullet-like attack and the solid connect. What was she made of, what had shaped her into this unstoppable assassin? He dropped any deception when Sasquatch swept Skipper up in two cruel hands.
"Let your rapidity be that of the wind, your compactness that of the forest," thought Private as he flashed back on Skipper's relating a lesson to his team from something called The Art of War that Ma had read aloud only to him. There had existed unexpected depths to Ma, Private suspected, as he leaped for Sasquatch's broad back as quickly as a dustdevil could turn into a whirlwind. He scrambled up to her neck and entangled both feet in her fur. He clapped a flipper over each baleful brown eye, keeping himself as small a target as possible.
"Боже мой!" Sasquatch choked out and when Private savaged her ears or where he thought the ears would be underneath all that fur, she danced and howled. But she didn't do the important thing, she didn't let go of Skipper and if she squeezed hard with both those meaty paws, he'd be done for. Private pecked and squawked as loud as he could while switching tactics to karate chop the thick neck. At last one broad hairy hand released Skipper to bat at the flippered ferocity bedeviling her. When a misstep in the snow sat her down with a jolt, Private thought success was at hand. Not a rousing success, perhaps, but survival was good enough this time. He hung on as Skipper twisted out of Sasquatch's grip completely.
Skipper gritted, "Go for help!" as he went directly for the throat. Lightning fast karate chops alternated with roundhouse blows and clawing and pecking. Private would have said that Skipper abandoned all his usual grace for barroom brawling techniques, but in a fight like this and in this skittering setting, two little penguins needed a change in tactics.
He felt this even more when Sasquatch rolled her shoulders, swung her massive head and threw herself onto her back. To avoid being crushed, he tumbled down and wriggled out to freedom, but not before handing her a sound pecking at a mammal's chief tickling spot, the waist. Sure enough, she wrenched to one side and this gave Skipper the chance to flail away without pause on the curve of her neck. He avoided her clutches, but Private wasn't as skillful.
Sasquatch surged to her feet with Skipper taking the place of Private in karate chopping her neck from a perch on her shoulder. As if to display her own strength offhandedly, she ignored the attack, dropped Private onto one size 15EEE foot and then punted him off the battlement. As he sank out of sight to an anguished "You fiend!" from Skipper, Private thought in a wild delirium that his fall would look splendid in 3D.
IOIOIOIOIO
In the dizzying spin towards an unforgiving earth, Private wheeled ass over teakettle and his mind did that thing that it usually did in falls or other memorable moments in his life as part of Skipper's team. The undefinable entity that was Time billowed out unstoppably in the same way whether the event was good or bad. This fall was bad, but Lunacorn episodes were good, and each polar opposite circumstance meant that he was unaware of the outside world for a while. In fact, how much time had his 'special briefing' lasted? He'd thought only an hour, but as impact approached and he saw that he was not going to get skewered by a pine branch or smashed onto rocks, he laughed at his foolish notions. The 'special briefing' had taken far longer than one measly hour as he and Skipper shared experiences and gotten to know each other better. Private made contact with the best friend of penguins called snow, cackling giddily at the sheer relief of staying alive.
Time did its usual telescoping thing when the snowbank provided an angled surface to deflect his fall as it nestled against immutable Kastelholm. Private turned the rapid slide into a zigzag that slowed his momentum and by the time he had reached bottom, he didn't need Kowalski to tell him that he was A-OK. Once again, he looked up to see how the battle was going.
Skipper and Sasquatch danced with Lady Danger on the roof ridge once more. Although he was at the top of his game and physically superior to all team members, Skipper had to be wearing down. Private vowed to make sure his virginal March didn't become a Funeral March for anyone on his team. He wouldn't want it to become one for Sasquatch, either, but let the chips fall as they may.
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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