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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
Kowalski strutted his stuff. "Blowhole is approximately six miles away from us, to the north of the Mariehamn Airport. Waze showed location as the main road and he may be on a smaller offshoot, but all of the island is so near any stretch of water that he might have a base of operations in the water itself, too. Triangulation the way I did it is less accurate than other methods. I couldn't risk anything else or chance alerting him." He prodded his head under the ruffled feathers and winced. "Our zoo, I mean Åland Zoo, is on the eastern edge of the island's peninsula and we'll need to trek six miles somehow without us stressing over stressing your health, sir."
"Too late," Private piped up.
Kowalski hit Delete and hopped down to handle the sitch known as Optimal Way To Proceed Without Sending Skipper Into The Stratosphere. "Face facts." He chose the blunt approach. "You can't waddle that far and you're off the sliding scale of um, sliding, so we need transport. I don't think the Q32 bus or Lexington Avenue #6 train goes in this direction."
Private tittered and Rico humphed, yet Skipper's expression remained sour. He slapped the desk similar to the one he would be stuck at now if the Inflatium had not popped to its unexpected end. Naturally he would have been relieved to be alive and he could have avoided battling Sasquatch, but the tedium of a desk job --- no. It was a call made for him and he was glad. What felony was Hans up to these days? He was jerked back to the present when his troops shuffled out of the way of his pacing.
"Damn. Sasquatch, you have a lot to answer for." Skipper paused to stare out the window as the sheers riffled and the view showed the aurora gaining strength. "The sooner we get her to spill her guts about her boss, the better. I'm going to roust her out on the way back. I refuse to risk this unit with insufficient intel about giant worms." He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. "Rommel's desert peach, do you ever hear the words that come out of your beak sometimes?"
"K'walski, I'll be gettin' the wire back into place on the roof. You stay put and mind the headache."
"Thanks, Private. I'll reconnect it to the grounding." Kowalski leaned against the computer desk leg and kicked back to enjoy being sidewalk supervisor. "Retwist the wire counterclockwise, if you please. Rico, return the helium tank to the balloon stand without trying to make your voice sound funny."
"Awwwww, maaan!"
Kowalski waddled to the window and pointed. "Skipper, see the willow tree overhanging the fountain by the main entrance flagpole?"
In the aurora, the flagpole's finial changed colors and the fountain's bubbling spray looked more exotic than anything Skipper had seen on his many travels excluding Atlantis. He became poetic thinking of that magical place and his spirits lifted. "The weeping willow tree brushing its sorrowing osiers over the limpid frost-rimed pool?"
"Yes. I need some of its bark."
"I'm stumped."
"Bwahaha! Oh. Um, you don't know that willow bark contains a natural painkiller. If I chew it, the headache will go quicker. I'm only sorry it wasn't available when you needed it most, sir. We were trucked into our habitat using the service entrance and I didn't realize the tree was there."
"Pshht, I'm alive, right? Sure, I'll peel you off some." Skipper faced the window. "Boost me." Kowalski obliged and Private and Rico caught him on the outside before turning to their own tasks. In the deserted office, Kowalski sneaked a look around and then kissed the computer goodbye before leaving.
The roof access proved a small obstacle. Holding the wire's end in his beak, Private hopped from brad to brad on the building's wall, using the wire's original fastenings as he would rocks on a rockclimbing wall. By keeping up swift momentum, he powered through the climb as he deployed toes and flipper tips until he reached the overhanging beam with the depending pulley. Giving it a dirty look, he backflipped atop the beam with ninja grace. It was the work of a few seconds to twist the end back tightly onto the lightning rod's stub of snapped wire. He descended and by the time he reached bottom, Rico had returned.
"Fireinnahole! A-a-a-a-a-a-a!" Like a tommygun, Rico spat new brads to secure the wire again onto the wall. "Bingo!"
"Bingo!" Kowalski tied off the other end to the grounding. He high-oned Rico and Private.
Rico smoothed down his friend's head feathers gently. "My fing."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, bunkie."
"Wot's that you got, Skippa?"
Skipper proffered the willow bark. "Class Six supplies for Kowalski. He's gone organic hippie on us." Kowalski chewed as Private thought hard.
"Class Six? Aren't there only five classes of military supplies here in NATO country?"
"I hold to the Ewe Ess of Ay ten classes even in Atlantis, soldier. FYI, Finland and Sweden do not belong to NATO, but Denmark and Norway do. Go figure."
Private looked confused. "I'm thinkin' politics is over my head, Skippa. Ole comes from Norway and he's such a peaceful chap. I wonder where he is now."
Kowalski spat out the bark. "Oops, sorry, Rico. Dratted wind. Sir, I suggest we head for the moose habitat if you're set on poking the sasquatch."
Faux Skipper bobbed a Romanian tangler maneuver in the breeze as Skipper shivered. The wind got to the small bare bits of skin he still displayed. "Yeah, keep on the move. Form up."
Rico held tightly onto the balloon-dolly-soccer ball-antenna as they set out.
IOIOIOIOIO
Private trod along at the rear of the column nursing his grudge. Sasquatch was an assassin and why his commander thought she could be of any use except as a Bad Example he could not fathom. He fought down the anger he felt at the whole upcoming meeting into a tiny ball and swallowed it like he swallowed the lutfisk: with resentment and dyspepsia. As they slipped through the bars of her habitat and paused to reconnoiter under the tire swing, he could not keep his face disciplined and Rico noticed.
"'Rivate." Rico patted his belly with his one free flipper as Faux Skipper fought to regain the skies. "Clss Five."
Yes, right as rainbows, Rico contained ammo enough to do in a sasquatch if she tried anything against the team. Private would have been happier if Rico could contain Class Seven supplies, but a tank was out of the question at least from Rico's gut. It must have put a severe strain on him to belch out the medico bag whenever the team needed it. He nodded and poked Rico's belly with a smile.
Skipper noted the byplay. "We go hot on my mark only." All was dark and quiet within the stable. "Move out."
The commandos caught Sasquatch asleep as she curled by the space heater. Skipper edged nearer to the warmth himself to stop his beak from chattering before he spoke. "Wake up, Sasquatch." He gave the signal for light and instead of Rico's usual upchucked Maglite, Kowalski found the remote to the 52-inch television set and turned the channel to the unused station they claimed in their own habitat.
She did that yawning and stretching thing that reminded him of Private and the similarity took him off guard. "Whuh? What do you harami want now?" She didn't bother getting up. "Brrrr."
He was within grabbing distance of the long arms and put up his guard again. "Never mind that. Has Blowhole convinced you yet that he's out only for him?"
She pressed closer to the heater. "Pblblblblbl. I knew that."
He threw her a curve. "We know where he is."
She batted to midfield and ran to first. "Good on you."
He switched positions and threw her out with a clothesline. "We're going to stop him."
That got her out of bed. "He's important to me and my kind and now Hugo. Don't." She was tall and strong and a proven danger. The three little able-bodied penguins in an attack stack would barely reach her waist. They didn't waver as their leader continued.
"Tell me what you know about his worms and when we stop whatever on earth he plans to do with them, we might not need to go ballistic on his shiny hide that feels surprisingly pleasant to the touch. We know part of the story already." Hybrid giant venomous worms stank of an unholy alliance between Dave's and Blowhole's capabilities and bent for mind-blowing egotism. Blowhole was the more dangerous foe because he, like Dave, had no qualms about warping Mother Nature's goals by using her own processes against her, but unlike Dave, he showed broader vision than a grudge against penguins and other cute creatures. Maybe it was because he was a mammal rather than a shape-altering cephalopod. He waited for Sasquatch's reply as his shivers disappeared.
"Oh, that. The worm thing." Her sagittal crest's fur flattened and she waved in their general direction. "All this gidi over worms?"
"Huge. Poisonous. Dangerous. Worms."
"That are capable of living on land or sea, on icebergs or off." Kowalski preyed on her mountain loving sensibilities. "On glaciers. On mountains. They don't even need much water to survive."
Skipper pushed for any sense of decency. "One human crab harvester may have been killed already. She was lost overboard in mysterious circumstances after describing a giant worm to her co-worker." This was exaggerating things. Life on fishing boats was hazardous in the extreme and Sven's theory of Messy subterfuge and the Longing linus kinds of worms hybridizing their individual abilities didn't emphasize danger to humans. He looked closely for some sign of empathy.
She was a slick customer. One corner of her mouth lifted suspiciously. "Did this jibberjabber about worms come about after you did who knows what in the humans' habitat?" She seemed to want to level the field by giving tit for tat with intel. "I saw you tonight." She jerked her head towards where Rico had secured Faux Skipper in the manger.
Well played. "We did what was necessary. It's our job to help animals and sometimes humans, I told you that already." There was no sense in letting slip that they knew she was actually a blend of two animals. Mentions of Dave's lab would also be unwise.
"Do you know about Blowhole's Agent 12?" Her smirk caught on one of her broken teeth and she rubbed her lip quickly.
Damn. A changeup. "We might." They didn't. Grant's Special Blend, they didn't.
She put her hands on her hips and leaned down close enough so that they could see the fur on her head sticking out the way that fur did in windy static electricity-ish weather. Private broke protocol and placed himself in front of his leader. "Here now, don't you try anythin'."
It was important to present a united front and so Skipper did not slap although he wanted to. "Private."
"I --- she --- you ---"
Rico pulled back the young penguin as Kowalski redirected attention to Operation: How To Grill A Sasquatch On An Apartment Balcony Hibachi. "Sasquatch, I suspect Doctor Blowhole was actually Mad Doctor Blowhole to you. Care to elaborate?"
She was rocked as she surveyed four determined penguins, three of them in combat ready stance. "Not your business."
Skipper followed up to his lieutenant's carefully phrased question. "We can play this game all night. We'll leave if you give us something we can use." He hammered hard. "What the hell would Blowhole do with giant worms?"
Sasquatch trembled and despite everything, Skipper felt like a bully. "I don't know. He made them somehow. I don't understand any part of his plans except how he wanted to use me to kill you. He's going to pay me for that." She sat in a heap suddenly. "But he never will now, will he. You'll be after him and he'll know I failed to squash you like a, a worm." She looked inward. "I don't want to kill anymore for any reason. What will be, will be."
Rico burst forth for the first time. "Ah-kwatchgrbbystnkykillrfrmny?"
"Rico! Stand down!" But it took Kowalski's firm flippers on his beak and Private's tackling his ankles to stop the spew of violent content from him. He shrugged them both off to cross his flippers over his chest and glare daggers at the breaker of his usual happy-go-lucky mood.
Sasquatch regained some composure. "Whatever." She drew up her knees and locked her arms around them. She rested her head on her knees before looking at them with dry eyes. "You harami. You've done me in."
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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