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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
Skipper would say to sitch recon before heading back into battle and Private obeyed. He could see Sasquatch and Skipper in a no-holds-barred fight to the death. By everything that was penguin, Skipper was giving it everything he had, just like in the debut match with the Rat King, but he was bound to need backup. Never swim alone ... Oh no. Skipper's lesson from The Art of War specifically stated that you need to leave an escape route for the enemy so that they could flee your main troops and run into the ambush you had set up before! And there was no Rico or Kowalski to be the ambush! Private wasted no time being the ambush. Going for help was not an option. "Sorry, Skippa, disobeyin' orders."
Without Rico's auto-barf grappling hook, it would take many New York minutes to reach Skipper's side. Private studied the boarded up windows that he and Skipper had bypassed when scaling Kastelholm what seemed decades ago. This'll be just like cliffhopping, he thought. He kept the fight in view as he dashed for the castle wall, and right before the line of sight was cut off, he saw Skipper perform his signature move: the Modified Omega Boom. Skipper used the windvane staff to gain momentum for a full frontal attack, spinning in focused fury while Private watched. What would happen next was that Skipper would rocket off to plant both iron-hard feet in Sasquatch's solar plexus to squash all the air out of her. She'd drop to her knees, fall from the rooftop, and by then Private would have gained the time to scramble topside unless his commander joined him down here. Private halted his steps, gauged which window ledge he'd aim for first and eyed the results of the Modified Omega Boom. This was going to be epic.What impossibility was this? Sasquatch was rocked backwards and waving crazy arms like a SkyDancer but she wasn't falling? And Skipper was distracted, oh he of the laser beam intensity that carried on when Private himself was booted off the battlement with possible injuries? Private's jaw dropped as Skipper took his eye off his foe to look down as if to gauge unsure footing. Sasquatch threw her full length forward in a whip-like crunch exercise and then grabbed Skipper as she lay prone. They must have been face to face and if they exchanged taunts, Private couldn't hear them over the thundering of his heart. He shook his head over and over as Sasquatch gained her feet, brandished Skipper over her head with a triumphant howl and dashed him to the earth seventy feet below. Skipper bounced in mud once three yards from Private's horrified eyes before coming to rest on snowy rocks and lying still. Private did hear Sasquatch yell then even though his heart hammered like a Chinese New Year gong. "Yessss!"
It must have been his imagination that he heard a sob afterwards.
IOIOIOIOIO
Ice ringed the rushes around the shores of the fjord and that afforded well over one hour of ice skating fun for the penguin pair. They wove between the reeds, played hide-and-seek in the bulrushes, practiced ice hockey routines with a frozen oak gall and generally let time pass them by. Kowalski accused Rico of cherry picking and Rico countered with charges of illegally employing the lacrosse move that the NHL wanted to declare illegal but couldn't until they both decided that the ice-free rippling water in the middle of the fjord was best. Kowalski analyzed that the water was near freezing, determined that the fish in it weren't to his liking, and estimated that if the Bears ever turned on the Ploughman to eat him, life on earth would end as penguins knew it. He paddled lazily around as he wondered whether dolphins ever made it up the river as far as Ellis Island.
Rico decided to be a New York City fireboat. Like a penguin possessed, he spewed water from his gut that seemed inexhaustible, but wasn't. He made siren sounds, rolled over and over like Marlene did sometimes, and accomplished what ought to be impossible: he took Kowalski's mind off science and Doris. "You fool. You always could make the hours fly by for me ever since we were hatchlings," Kowalski laughed. "Now pretend I'm the fire chief."
Rico saluted with both flippers. "Ah huh. Wheeee ooooo wheeee ooooo wheeee oooooo wheee oooopblpblppbbllopblhalp. Halp. Halp!" With both flippers stilled, his top part sank into the black depths of the fjord and only his waving feet and round bottom upended at the surface like Momma Duck's did when she searched for sustenance in the sediment of the park's pond. Burps putt-putted from the inky depths in an S-O-S pattern.
Kowalski was not fooled. "Oh, no, you don't! Not gonna get me to panic, no way, nuh uh. Come and get me!" He slapped the waggling tail feathers, pulled a kicking foot, and shot off like a bullet. He was one seventeenth of the way around Kastelholm when a torpedo surged by him. It was Rico, riding a bazooka rocket the way that a cowboy rides a runaway horse.
The rocket's wake sounded like the noises Rico made on a regular basis inside the stuffy confines of their New York HQ, but Kowalski wasn't alarmed and only laughed harder when Rico croaked, "Lookit meeeee!" as he tried to stand up on the rocket. Its rondeur slewed in the water like the cylinder it was and soon Rico logrolled it as he laughed louder than the loon they'd heard earlier in the night. At last he misstepped and splashed into the water, and this time Kowalski followed him down in a dizzy spin all the way to the bottom of the moat.
"Moats, boats, floats, notes," sang Kowalski when he popped to the surface. Rico bobbed in front of him after a moment, grinning like he never did before. "Dotes ... totes ... " Kowalski trailed off. "Totally, um, poetry. I haven't composed a single stanza since she --- "
As they swam under the bridge, Rico regurgitated a brine shrimp delicacy for him. Kowalski gulped it down to derail his train of thought. "These are actually sea monkeys, you know. Children all over the world keep them as pets."
"Meh."
"I guess you're right, Rico. Meh."
A wisp of cloud cleared the moon. The peace that Kastelholm had earned through the centuries broke into shards as snarls and cries of 'Hi-yaaaaaa!' reached their earholes.
"Look! Skipper and Private up top and what is that thing they're fighting?"
"Bug owwwwt!" Rico swung like Tarzan from a dangling mooring rope to scuttle upwards and Kowalski followed to the top of the bridge.
"Faster, Rico, let's go, big fella!"
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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