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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, memorize this entry. Skipper's Log, Hiatus Version 2.1. Sasquatch isn't really a sasquatch, Blowhole is either on Åland or nearby spouting a bigger plan than offing little old me, and since these things come in threes, Denmark is involved. Another set of three is that I'm not quite 100 per cent fit and frosty --- Private, code that 'eyes only' and then forget you ever heard it --- and we meet the King of Sweden today and a little bird told me that Dave arrived to squirt ink onto the overall picture. Cheese and crackers, it's riddles inside a mystery covered in triple strength Saranwrap. A.A.R.P., your mission statement needs revision as much as Windows 10. Relaxation, my left ... pinkie toe. Endit."
Private nodded. "Righto, Skippa."
The breeze brought burgeoning blasts of crowd noises including a calliope playing what must be the universal rollicking circus theme. Cries of kippis sille reached their earholes. Skipper mulled over the correct penguin protocol for receiving a king of a friendly nation. "Rico, give me a few laps, your choice as to quantity. The king will be by any minute." Rico tried to touch his toes, did three deep knee bends and eight side stretches before waddling off, making Skipper jealous of his limber subordinate. He prodded himself to simmer down semi-successfully when Kowalski returned from bellowing at Imelda through the barrier between their habitats.
"She SAYS that --- ahem. She says that Sasquatch and the king exchanged a dignified wave and that His Majesty apparently gained special dispensation to toss lutfisk at her in defiance of zoo rules. She ate it by the Imperial gallon and everyone said she was söt and toasted her with sahti while shrieking kippis sille. We can gather she made a hit with both the Finns and the Swedes. Chuck Charles and Bonnie Chang are covering the event for Channel 1." He chuckled. "Imelda says she can smell something off about the two of them."
"It's probably their hair product fumes." Skipper looked like he did when describing lutfisk. "Puke and double puke. So Sasquatch knows how to be social when she wants to. Interesting."
Private slid from obedient secretary to smart mouth young penguin in an instant. "She can bloody well do the minuet with Hugo on a tightrope for all I care. I don't trust her, Skippa."
"I don't, either, but she sounded honest enough about not being a threat to the king, so there's that. We might need her to snitch on Blowhole if she changes her mind about how we can do her some good. It's Tricky Dicky territory, I'll grant you, but think about Routine Two, Private, or have you forgotten Buck Rockgut's lesson about how we aren't put in life to love everybody? It's enough to tolerate --- "
Private pushed his luck as he narrowed his eyes. "She ought to sit on the business end of K'walski's Revolvin' Creditizer. She'd wind up a blinkin' trilobite simmerin' in pottage."
Skipper pulled back his slap at the hideous memory and shoved his lieutenant into the fray. "That wasn't its name. Kowalski? Some help here?"
Kowalski drew his dignity around him. "It was a De-Evolutionizer." He slumped. "I was lucky to change you back after you became a Suzhousaurus. I couldn't have done it without Rico's flamethrower."
Skipper snorted. "Yeah, you'd think your gizmo would have made me into something boss like a T-rex. Instead, I got a girly name and furry feathers."
"My invention worked in reverse, didn't it?" Kowalski folded his flippers and glowered. "So it made you un-de-evolutionized. Un-evolutionized." He thought some more. "Un-oh whatever, let's get back to Dave. What do we remember about him? Octopus, crazy with penguin envy, lonely, mad genome morphing skills, possible land-based laboratory where he next planned to take the cuteness factor from sweet little adorable pandas, which live near Nepal ... "
As Kowalski trailed off in hypothesis mode, Skipper turned pensive. "Funny thing is, my memory has glitches from around the time of being squashed --- "
"Please, Skippa, no flashbacks today." Private forced himself to smile. "We're meetin' a king!"
" --- yet I'm on track remembering Dave's name after having trouble with it when we first met him. Weird thing, memory." Skipper shook himself out of the past and turned to the future with a twinkle in his eye. "Private, someday you might be a Commander and then you'll make a humorous entry in your log about me bouncing onto those rocks and you believing I was dying."
Private became angry. "Now you're teasin' me. Maybe ages from now I'll come up with a funny entry, but that whole braapin' day added years to your life and took years off mine."
"Private! Language, soldier!" Private made a sound of upset, took a graceless jump into their moat and dove to its bottom.
Skipper fumed. "Aaaand I can't follow him into the water to wash his beak out --- oh wait. There's something I can discipline him with." He rubbed his flippers gleefully. "Bucko, you won't know what hit you."
As he did most times, Kowalski glided over emotional nuances like Charlie White. He tapped his temples with both flippers. "You'd think that if a miniaturized octopus escaped from a little girl's New York City snow globe Channel 1 would be all over it. No, Skipper, I'm convinced that Blowhole couldn't share any lab. He's not a team player like we are or like regular dolphins in a pod. He's taken over Dave's backup lab and committed horrendous deeds. Where Dave is we can only guess." He returned to deep thought.
Rico popped out of the moat where he'd been doing forty laps underwater. "Whunup wif 'Rivate?"
"He's working off a pout. Let him be."
The sounds of happy human feet approached as a cameraman edged his way into their view, his steadicam aimed at the commotion outside Imelda's residence. Murmuring human voices grew to average volume while Skipper took stock of his team for the royal presentation. Rico preened his pits after his swim, Private still sulked underwater and Kowalski wandered in hypothesizing heaven, but he himself felt pretty darn good for a walking wounded penguin. He looked down his chest. The pink islands of skin not covered by black or white feathers had shrunk in recent days to isolated islets as small as Bouvet Island. The newer feathers slightly overlapped the newest nubs and shrouded his form almost as completely as any ninja would want. When the king and his party rounded the stone habitat wall and one dozen royals crowded the railing followed by newscasters including Chuck and Bonnie, Skipper stood straight and tall.
The king was immediately recognizable from Channel 1's coverage of him passing out the Nobels each year. A regal, kindly expression was on his face as he balanced what appeared to be a newborn human on one arm while linking his other with his queen's. The newborn seemed to be as solemn as Private had been at that age and made no sound. Three little preschoolers ran around their grandparents' and parents' feet, balanced on the habitat railing and squealed when Private made a stellar appearance.
The junior member of the team automatically earned four demerits taken away from Skipper's punishment when he porpoised out of the water in front of the royal party. He gained momentum after hugging the moat's bottom at the curve of the western end and then paralleled his sleek body six feet above the water for half the length of the habitat island. Skipper held his breath when the team's youngest looked like he was going to overshoot and smack into the stone barrier, but Private fulfilled his precise training to reenter the water without a splash at the last possible moment. He circled the island to perform five more leaps to cheers from both human and penguin audiences.
One young human female leaned heavily on her male escort as she bent over the newborn nestled on her king's arm. Skipper assumed it was the child's mother who had recently birthed the baby and shook his head. Penguin ways were much better in this situation. The father penguin shared nesting, foraging, and all other aspects of natal care. From Randy The Sheep's table of human child age estimation gained from vast experience in Central Park's petting zoo, Skipper placed the two royal girls at four years and the lone boy at one year. As the kids scampered about, the camera crew zoomed and panned the royal parents as they behaved as parents do worldwide and shook warning fingers, gave pointed looks, and grabbed royal ears to use as handles. Now this aspect of shepherding the young Skipper could relate to.
The king continued his role as grandparenting baby buggy as he studied the habitat and made remarks to the newscasters while switching flawlessly from whatever tongue he was speaking to English. Chuck Charles and Bonnie Chang appeared the ultimate professionals as they captured the king's attention and directed their crew's camera work. All eyes wheeled from human interest to penguin interest ten minutes after the penguin coverage began.
The commander jolted from his observations when Kowalski zoned out of his own mind and back into the world shared with his penguin brothers. "Hawking's singularity! I just put the pieces together --- Blowhole carved Sasquatch --- what he did to her hooves and horns was the scheme of a madman!" the scientist exclaimed before he buried his face in Rico's chest. After some murmurs that Skipper couldn't make out, they sprang apart.
Skipper ignored the king's steady regard. It wasn't as if ol' King Carl could understand their words. "Kowalski, elucidate."
Kowalski blinked at Skipper's new command. "He altered the spine, rearranged the uvula, warped the tibia and the fibula and did horrendous trimming on her pelvic region." He dredged up a watery smile. "He left her fur intact. It was stitched back on her unevenly, but it was her original pelt."
Skipper exploded. "The monster! To do all that to a female! Yak's wool is naturally odor resistant. That's why Rico couldn't track her at Kastelholm. And the Kármán vortex street through the pines couldn't have helped!" At Kowalski's shocked double take, Skipper erupted again. "What! I watched a lot of nature documentaries while I was laid up and you all were topside performing, all right?" He left Kowalski to Rico's comforting as he added to Sasquatch's unsettling dossier. The wind rose to snatch the king's hat and Skipper watched as the man passed the infant back to its mother so he could participate freely in the next portion of the photo op. Majesty restored and returned hat firmly pulled down, Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden did his duty, as must Skipper.
The king's party milled in front of the habitat when a vendor wearing a fish-shaped top hat distributed white chunks of something to the group as Private broke into a sixth porpoising stunt. "Get up here," Skipper snapped when Private was airborne close enough to hear him. Private avoided Skipper's exasperated look, made a last defiant circuit of the island and leaped onto the beach with perfect placement to stand with a scowl by his leader. The king tossed a chunk of the white substance towards Skipper with exact aim and Skipper caught it in the way of penguins that humans expected to see. "Eat this," he mumbled with his beak full.
Private's eyes watered as Skipper shoved a blob of lutfisk down his throat. He gulped it and turned away. "Tastes like soap, no more, Skippa."
"That's the point. Don't you dare upchuck it and don't cuss anymore." Kowalski and Rico acted like the sorry stuff was delightful. The two of them capered before the crowd while gobbling lutfisk, the steadicams whirred, and Private offered no more guff as Skipper matched him swallow for swallow.
The king's retinue moved along after a few more sound bites. Before leaving, Carl's eyes met Skipper's and their exchange of rueful looks soared above the boundary of species and circumstances as the two alphas contemplated leadership's trials and rewards. Skipper proferred a final dab of lutfisk to Private as he slid a sidelong glance at the king. The royal grandbaby must have awakened because there was an infant-sized squall and the king hurried out of sight. Skipper's last impression of the king was overhearing a string of Swedish endearments cooed to a grandchild.
Skipper withdrew from his team to sit on the beach and enjoy the sunshine. Two of New York's Finest Newscasters consulted their notes with a local technician's aid as the three lagged behind the royal party.
IOIOIOIOIO
"Chuck, the assignment was to scoop the other networks by showing the king and the sasquatch and the penguins all together in one shot. There's no time now to go back to arrange that." Bonnie flicked her bangs from her eyes, but the wind was fierce and blew them down again.
"Ei, Bonnie," the tech struggled. "Too myöhästynyt."
Chuck turned to the tech. "Miten sanotaan Photoshop suomeksi?"
"Photoshop."
"Fine, we'll Photoshop them all together." Bonnie raised plucked eyebrows at her co-anchor's linguistic expertise.
"Kyllä, Chuck." The tech scurried away to rejoin the king's group while chattering on his iPhone.
"Well done, Chuck. Can you read Finnish, too?"
Chuck had given up keeping his perfectly moussed hair smooth in the breeze. He shrugged before crossing his arms. "I just speak it a little. Twelve years anchoring Channel 1 has taught me to go with the flow, Bonnie, like our friend on the beach. See him just sitting in the sun and not worrying? That's Central Park Zoo's penguin leader, according to the discredited CD I discovered showing him and his group in outrageous commando stunts."
Without preamble, Bonnie pressed her Vera Wang suit's back pleats against Chuck's Armani front. "Block the wind for me, would you? Thanks. Yeah, about that CD. I, um, missed you when you were let go for awhile. Pete Peters knows bupkis about banter."
Chuck crisscrossed his arms over Bonnie's collarbone and pulled her in tighter. "Bupkis? Yksi kieli ei ikinä riitä."
She twisted to face him within the ring of his grip but didn't escape it. "That last bit sounded Finnish. What did you say?"
"'One language is never enough.'" He leaned forward to shelter her even more and she tilted against him in response but just then a little boy ran towards them and they swayed apart. The boy hid behind Chuck after spotting his American flag tie clip.
"Save me from the eating of the lutfisk! Mummy and Fadder comes this way!"
The penguin on the beach made a raucous sound when Chuck and Bonnie turned him over promptly to his parents in the timeless conspiracy of the old against the young.
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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