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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
"Lean over and let me preen you."
"Ouch. Still hurts to bend."
"That's why you're getting this done by me. Think nothing of it, you'd do the same for any of us. Come on, hurry up, I thought of some more options for the power breakfast meeting when I woke up this morning. Hold still. Penguins have more feathers per square inch than any bird on earth. You need to stay waterproof, sir."
"Thought you said I shouldn't swim for another week." Skipper closed his eyes at the soothing feel of feathers sliding through Kowalski's oiled up beak.
Kowalski moved far forward to start in on the neck next. "Mrf ra --- rain 'n snow stl bud --- sssssslllppp --- tilt your head back --- grpthmbleehh --- "
"You missed a spot, K'walski."
Kowalski spat out a black feather. "Primer coat first, Private, then final coat and touch up."
"Oh."
Skipper was dazed with pleasure after Kowalski declared him preened to his exacting standards and fit for light duty. He slid down a herring or three in a smaller than normal breakfast for him. After Rico stashed the Snuggie and pillows next to Faux Skipper in a far corner, the genuine Skipper returned to sitting on the massage table to conduct the meeting. The relaxed smile disappeared.
"Kowalski, mi viejo amigo, options? And don't say tinfoil hats."
"No, I've recalculated that mammal-to-mammal telepathy is the most logical sort she'd have. Mammal-to-bird is just nuts. Let's start with motivations. Bluntly put, Skipper, Sasquatch wants to kill you and you alone."
"But why, why?" whined Private like a hatchling when he knew he wasn't and the others knew he wasn't.
"Sometimes animals do things and they don't know why themselves. She doesn't have to explain herself to us. We only need to be on guard from her. She could be acting on her own to be perverse or be part of a greater plan." Kowalski straightened up to his full height and for a moment looked stately. "What we do know is that Skipper and all of us would have helped her with any problem and this" --- he pointed to Skipper's Lunacorn Band-Aids --- "is what she did. None of us are to blame. We stand guard and we don't let her hurt any of us ever again."
Private was no longer certain that the her was Sasquatch. Rico seemed to think so, too. "Eh buddy, ledid go."
"What are you talking about? I'm listing options as ordered --- "
Skipper cut in. "So, teambuilding next? Who's able to risk life and limb as our ally?"
"Imelda is the logical choice. She's distracted by her attempts to lose weight, but I think she could be lookout or even muscle."
"Losin' weight?"
"She says she's down to almost five hundred."
"Ah, females and their body issues. A spare tire never bothered me." Skipper patted his front gingerly. Rico massaged his own King Crush Monster Truck spare tire. Private and Kowalski eyed each other and shrugged at the change in Skipper's attitude.
"It saved your life, sir."
"Damn skippy. Okay then, a polar bear's good in a fight. She's the only ally we need. You secure that, Kowalski, she's been chitchatting with you all along. We find out ol' King Carl's timetable, mount surveillance and prepare to take down a sasquatch."
"If necessary. First is your protection, sir."
"Patton's fireballs, I'm just a common penguin. He's a king. I've heard good things about him."
The two locked horns. "Mission objective is protect you first, then the king. Of humans."
"Don't make me pull rank after that delightful preening, soldier."
Kowalski sidestepped the bull's follow up charge. "Feel up to making a public appearance for practice, Skipper?"
As answer, Skipper put on his brave face and peeled a Prince Sharesalot Band-Aid from his breastbone. "Well, hey now, the easy-off kind." Soon he sat before his team showing his entire front in varying stages of healing. Short new white feathers studded creamy, healthy looking skin with small islands of recovering pinkish flesh as reminders of near tragedy. Only close observation revealed the left side puffier than the right. "Present for inspection, Lieutenant Kowalski, sir."
Kowalski sometimes knew when to shut up. He peered, poked, and prodded gently. He looked up the nostrils and down the throat. He sat the recovering foot on his flipper and tapped the knee for a jerk reflex. He moved on from 'mmhmmms' and 'ahhhhhs' to ask embarrassing questions which Skipper answered promptly. "No sliding for another two weeks," Kowalski said at last. "We'll smile and wave today and let Private stage a Slippy-type fall into the water."
"Awwww, nuts. All that walking won't be good for my pinkie toe, right?"
"You can't get away from these options, Skipper. Science won't let you. No sliding."
Skipper shrugged. "Worth a try. My iron-clad constitution wins again, men! Up high!"
Private remembered how blood stains turn to a rusty iron color and didn't join in.
"He got a fighting chance from you, Private," Kowalski said later at topside.
Faux Skipper didn't mind them retiring him whatsoever.
IOIOIOIOIO
After mild calisthenics that Skipper watched from the sidelines and critiqued unmercifully, the day passed with a Sunday picnic-like atmosphere under humid skies with no wind to chill convalescing penguins. Something was happening on the far side of the zoo past the visual barrier of Imelda's habitat and she supplied commentary hollered throughout the afternoon.
"That'th the THECOND thet of bleacherth, penguinth, LOOKTH LIKE bunting going up --- wait, now there'th a BANNER, I can't read, can YOU?"
"No can do, Imelda!" Kowalski calculated the precise spot to stand for optimal acoustics and backed up three steps. "What is Sasquatch doing?"
There was a big splash as Private distracted any onlookers from noticing one penguin facing a wall and making contact with a predator of seals and by extension penguins, if they lived in the Arctic. Skipper made penguin noises and Rico flapped his flippers in fruitless 'flying' before engaging their leader in a pseudo-battle for beach territory. The two chased one another around the island until Skipper sat down suddenly. Rico backed off and did a buck-and-wing for the crowd followed by tail-waggling at the camera of some news team. Skipper retreated to their inner habitat and mumbled "I'm okay" to Rico's anxious question.
Some moments passed before Kowalski got his reply from Imelda. "I got UP on my ROCKTH but couldn't THEE her. Thtaying outdoorth much LONGER?"
"I think not, Imelda! I'll keep you posted about what we need you for!"
"I'm getting in THAPE for whatever you GUYTH want me to do! THANKTH for the INTHPIRATHION!" The stone barrier between them was two feet thick, but Kowalski could hear Imelda sharpening her claws on it. He shivered.
"Bye now!" Leaving Rico and Private to entertain the crowd that was slowly making its way towards the exits, Kowalski hurried down the ramp to find Skipper sitting on the floor watching TV. He was shushed from any fussing when Skipper pointed to the set.
"New York City live feed. It's morning commute time there. Watch."
Chuck Charles chivied Bonnie Chang about her new 'do until she came up with something likely unscripted and inquired who did his eye tuck. The two leaned away from each other until a commercial cut in. Skipper muted the spiel on cheaper renters' insurance.
"I won't say I told you so."
"Shut up, Kowalski. I didn't slide. I needed a breather."
"I'd like to give you a time out."
"Not in this lifetime, bucko. No, seriously, I rested better after getting back into my own bunk last night. Private sleeps like a log."
Kowalski made a face. "Rico doesn't. We've come to an agreement, though. I don't tell him who he's talked about in his sleep and he stays as far from me as possible. Works for us."
Rico and Private raced each other down the ramp but before they could mother hen him, Skipper unmuted the TV. "Intel incoming."
"Bonnie, what's up with Central Park Zoo's guest residents? Are they acclimating to the Big Apple?"
"Chuck, arctic foxes are known for their versatile diet and winning ways. They're performing like troupers, fluffing out those adorable tails and play-biting and scrambling for snacks. I've visited many times off-duty to take Apple Live Photos."
"You tech-head, you." Their squabble forgotten, they erupted in genuine-sounding TV reporter chuckles, never a full-out belly laugh or guffaw but implying amusement sincerely enough. There followed footage of white fluffy mammals bouncing around the penguins' familiar home island, leaping with all four paws together and landing the same way as if to capture non-existent mice in the snow.
"No explosions? No escapes? No unexpected meteor strikes?" Skipper mourned. "I'm unimpressed. Somehow I expected more from foxes."
"Chuck, let's peek in on our beloved penguins all the way up in Åland Zoo." The row of penguins sitting on the floor alternately admired, decried, and hooted at their own images on footage taken that very afternoon, Åland time.
"Bonnie, does one of the penguins look peaked to you?" Chuck frowned. "What are the zoo keepers thinking? This calls for investigation right away. We New Yorkers won't sit still for any mistreatment. I have connections ---"
All four penguins gasped.
"Kowalski, getting me up topside was your idea --- "
"Heebletteejibber --- " Kowalski hyperventilated.
"Oh, Chuck, what a worrywart, my heavens. One of them is just moulting early, that's all. Remember last moulting season when the tallest one showed a birthmark on his neck and you swore it was a tattoo of a dolphin? You ought to write funny animal stories professionally, I swear to goodness."
"Ha ha ha, Bonnie. You know me too well. What's it been, seven years?"
"Coming up on it. I don't have a seven-year itch yet, though, do you?"
"Never. You're my one true co-anchor."
"Yes. Well. Getting back to human interest news, the King of Sweden plans to visit our little wanderers during day after tomorrow's Lutfisk Festival. All of the island, which is Finnish, by the way, will turn out to greet him and we'll view their sasquatch for the first time, too."
"I'm amazed and you viewers can be sure we'll cover every bit of the festival, the visit, and the unveiling of a fascinating new animal. And we're done. Bonnie, wait up! I've got some Rangers tickets!"
Kowalski unclamped his flipper from his neck. Skipper leaned into him companionably after turning off the set. "Problem solved, mi terroncito de azúcar. Your romantic soul can go on and your inked secret lies safe with us."
"He --- She --- almost --- I --- "
"Breathe. Now again. One more time. Good. Continue with options."
"Need --- another --- there. Ahem. We have a timetable, we have an objective. Option number one is we gather more intel on Sasquatch."
"I'm thinking a midnight surveillance."
"Tonight?"
"Right this evenin'?"
"Yah." Kowalski and Private turned to Rico. "Whaaaayalookinat? Sounz gooooood t'me."
"Yes, my friend, me too. We scoot over there --- oh all right, Grandma Kowalski, we waddle over there --- check out the entry points to her habitat. We confront her. She's on our turf now. We know zoos, she doesn't. Rico, you fully stocked?"
Rico opened wide and Skipper took inventory. "What's with the confetti?"
"Birfday."
"That was last month. Get rid of it."
"Aye aye!"
There were no northern lights that night, which ought to have been an omen.
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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