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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 suspected what harami meant and since her gaze passed through each team member to settle on him, he owned the insult with stoicism. Now was the time to be firm with her. "I've done no such thing," he asserted. "Buck up. When you realized that he's a hit or miss employer, that was your --- your" --- he cast around for something she could relate to --- "moment of Zen." Now provide an example. "There was Parker who got up in our feathers and expected to be paid for it by Blowhole and just ask Parker today how solvent he is." Now clinch the deal. "Keep up the communications and report them to us. We'll guide you."
Despair settled on her like the night sky's new cloud cover blown in by the strong wind. "It's not just me. It was never just me. My kind are being killed off. Even the Endangered Species List says so." She subsided into muttering something in what Kowalski assumed was Nepali. She kept shaking her head. Once she drifted back into English. "We'll end up like the saola and Hugo."
Kowalski suspected that she was dissociating from the moment as she passed her hands twice in front of her face. After a moment, they fell bonelessly to the stable's floor. She sagged back against the manger and let her legs splay. He discarded the flashback of Parker and Doris together-together to pursue his original line of questioning. "Sasquatch, about Blowhole's mad doctoring of you --- "
"Space squids! Billy Mitchell's squadron, is he in league with space squids? Can even he be that stupid crazy?" Skipper looked to his lieutenant. "Don't you see it, Kowalski? Space squids, tentacles, long stringy worms like Messy subterfuge --- "
The headache wasn't completely gone yet. Kowalski rubbed his eyes. "And you said my imagination needs dialing back. Skipper, it's Mesenchytraeus solifugus and let's consider calamari-munching, non-team player Blowhole collaborating with space squids." He considered. "Logic says --- "
"Since when does logic apply to Blowhole? Melting the Arctic ice cap because he got bent out of shape over performing for humans jumping through a Ring of Fire? Pulling the moon out of its orbit? Making Chrome Claw to intimidate the world and expecting that a well-placed C-4 charge from Rico wouldn't turn that lobster into mecha bouillabaise?" Skipper made blowing up gestures followed by a hearty smacking of his beak.
Rico slapped his flippers over Private's earholes from behind as one after another of their leader's Angry Words blistered the air. At the last sentence's expletive, he dropped his beak closer to the young penguin's head and hummed the theme from Hawaii Five-O to muffle further B-bombs.
Private rolled his eyes as he twisted free. "Really, Rico, I'm not a hatchlin' any more --- "
Sasquatch took in the four penguins involved with only their own group and busted out crying. "It was going to be beautiful," she sobbed. "The money was going for a stretch of Nepal land in Godavari resort area because the Jumla region that I suggested first is too remote and nobody would witness the Chinese shooting and trapping and dri-driving us off cliffs because they were hungry for our tri-tips --- "
All four stopped what they were doing and listened to the cry of a heart breaking. "H-He would fund a reserve and our herd would wander in little by little over the border, you see, and when the civilized humans discovered how peaceful we are even though we are called wild ya-yeti and how my kind simply want to be left alone to live --- "
She crumpled sideways and poured out the words to the inside of her right elbow. As she drew up her legs before curling her left arm over her head, Skipper saw how its pinkie was healing crookedly. She still wasn't clarifying 'my kind' and was it -- could it be that she considered herself beyond any kind? Had she forgotten that she was two kinds? He and Kowalski shared a look and Skipper could tell that Kowalski's mind was racing.
Kowalski's thoughts motored as fast as Juan Pablo Montoya in the last lap. She had to be yearning to be just one species again. As she wailed on and on about suburban versus rural sensibilities and how hunters could not justify themselves to suburbanites scrutinizing butchering ways right next door, he rubbed his temples.
"I didn't agree at first, but then he was so smart that it seemed he was right --- he's a lot smarter than me-e-e-e- --- " Her voice changed from a pleasant contralto to a screech reminding Kowalski of Doris' and his disagreement over the beau who took his place in her queue, Harry.
There were too many variables about the why of her possible return to normality when it didn't really count because the how and when mattered more. Kowalski himself would not want to be anything other than a penguin genius. In the end, it was private what species she considered herself and maybe she could never be normal again. He hoped that Skipper would not push for irrelevant intel to Operation: Plug A Blowhole.
"What will become of me now?" Sasquatch ended her breakdown as she lay spent in the dirt of the stable floor. There was little left to say.
Kowalski surprised himself by understanding a female's needs. He waddled closer to her woebegone face and limp arms. "You'll go onward because the only way out is through." He was joined by Skipper and together they voiced the best words she could hear.
"Never swim alone."
It seemed that focusing on the mission had once more risen to the top of Skipper's concerns and instead of What the hell animal are you? being his next question, he aired what Kowalski considered a brain fart. "Did Blowhole ever mention allying with one or more space squids?"
Something rallied behind the exhausted gaze. "No. Do you think that's likely?"
The reply reminded him of what Marlene might say and Kowalski appreciated any ally to squelch the space squid tack of inquiry. He suspected that Skipper would use anything to defeat Blowhole or to complete a mission he set his laser-like sights on. It might be Parker's poisonous spurs or Doris' kind, wide-ranging heart or Private's hyper-cute, whatever it took or whatever the cost, he'd weaponize it. It was tempting not to assign responsibility to anyone but his leader, although everyone on the team had to assume part of it to be fair. He spoke up before Skipper could scoff at her doubt.
"We're taking it under advisement."
Skipper appeared to be erasing the ink of space squid involvement. "I may or may not be right on about space squids. I make constant changes to battle plans. Get used to it." He softened. "What I usually do is consult this guy."
Kowalski straightened.
"And bombard with this guy."
Rico's grin was ferocious.
"And get heartened by this guy."
Private gasped.
"So we'll be in touch." Skipper gave the signal for move out. Rico retrieved Faux Skipper from the manger as the team prepared to leave. At another gesture, they slid to await him under the tire swing. He saw their quick and easy movements and thrust down envy. "Not much more to say. Help us and we'll help you. If you don't want to help, then at least don't hurt." He pointed to his front. "Not more, anyway." He brushed off a fleck of straw from his thigh. "And we'll still help you."
"Hugo, too?"
"What about him?"
Sasquatch dragged herself upward to wilt into a lotus position. She opened both hands and rested their backs on her knees, displaying scarred palms to Skipper. She took a cleansing breath. "He's my friend. Blowhole promised he would take us both away from this prison."
"You're just trouble all around, you know that?"
"But you need me." She locked gazes with him as a challenge. "And I need you now." She presented her case without dirty looks or even downward twist of mouth. It was a simple, level regard. "Blowhole could return me to Nepal before the monsoon starts in late June. Can you?"
"We shall do our best."
Sasquatch dismissed him with a nod. It was a case of one-upmanship in her own habitat, so Skipper allowed it. He paused near the door. "One more thing."
She was wiped out emotionally and he took pity on her. "Do you know what channel to change back to?"
"I could figure it out."
"Don't bother." He plastered himself near the space heater for a final bit of comfort before heading out into the wind. "This is the 'last' button for switching back and forth between the unused channel for lighting and the carrier wave from Blowhole. Kowalski should have shown you how to do it before leaving, but he's taken knocks to the head tonight and he forgot."
She saw which button he was pointing to and nodded again. "Thanks." She rubbed her own head. "There's willow bark stashed in a hollow of the second log up from the floor near where you're standing. Take half to him and tell him to chew it for pain relief and give the rest to me."
Another breakthrough. "I'll do that. Thanks." He retrieved the willow bark and dragged himself away from the space heater. He handed half the bark to her along with the remote and the thing he saw before she pushed 'last' was her chewing the bark and waving a hand over her forehead. It was the same motion that Hugo had made when Sasquatch echoed his words dissing Blowhole. Skipper drew his own conclusions. "до свидания," he said.
"до свидания," she replied.
IOIOIOIOIO
Private generally dropped right off to sleep. Tonight was different. Sasquatch had broken in front of him, spilling deepest thoughts and feelings as he did himself at times. There was a reason for her attack on Skipper and although she had made poor life choices, the scope of her hopes and dreams was revealed to him. It was a noble effort darkened by her savagery. He couldn't reconcile the two until he recalled how much he had desired the Peanut Butter Winkie factory to continue producing the delicious sweet cakes and how he had pushed aside the welfare of Skipper, Rico, and Kowalski to fuel his greed. He was glad the darkness concealed his look of shame at the memory because he knew that he had a tender conscience, he knew it and was working to toughen up. Everyone had high-oned for joy when the company restructured and extruded high-fructose sugary products as before. He undid the crinkly wrapper of a Peanut Butter Winkie slowly so as not to wake Skipper.
Skipper mumbled beside him and turned over to face their bunk's opening. Private pressed himself closer to his leader because the wind had changed direction from its prevailing stream and now moaned through the less effective baffle of the ramp. It snatched the candy wrapper and suspended it against the far end of the bunk. He snuggled to share warmth and sucked on his Winkie.
razzafrack "Chuck Charles here." Crikey, Skipper dreamed he was the anchorman again. Private poked Skipper's muscled back.
"Skippa. Wake up."
"New York City citizens were shaken and stirred from above and below when tentacles fribbled from cumulack clouds and the East River to kromitz the gloggles of Central Park Zoo. Upknocking officials promise that Channel 1 slobcasting will be given top prioricycle in its dunnage of the crisis --- "
"Wakies!" He nearly choked on his Winkie and swallowed it hastily. "Roll out! Up up up! Rockgut wants you in his office straightaway!"
"--- and now here they come! Private! No!"
Skipper would fall out of bed if Private prodded any harder. He got an idea and tickled Skipper's pit.
"Ah hooo ha ha hee hee! Stop!" His commander thrashed and nearly toppled to the floor anyway until Private hauled on his flipper to save him. With commando reflexes, Skipper's trained body acted from muscle memory and committed Routine 12 on his bunkmate. "Ow!"
Private rolled from under Skipper after propping up his commander's chest from squashing his own any more. "Sorry! You were sleepin' loud."
"Whuh --- tentacles everywhere --- we ran like the wind. And you didn't, Private." Skipper massaged his chest as he settled back. "Ouch. Damn Sasquatch."
"Wot did I do in your dream?"
"You hyper-cuted for all you were worth. They got you anyway and tore --- Well. It was only a dream. Comparte tu gozo y tus logros con los demás." He yawned. "And your actions spoke louder than my words."
"Why?" It was rare to have one-on-one time with Skipper to talk leadership. This was nearly as satisfying as the 'special briefing.'
"You faced the suckers after I ordered you to run. What I planned was to defeat them by regrouping and choosing another option from Kowalski's clipboard, but you did what I wanted, just not when. Or you tried, anyway."
"And I died for it?"
Skipper started. "Yes. Um, you might have. The dream ended before I saw. Don't ever do that, Private."
"I should say not! Dyin' by tentacles is not on my bucket list!"
"Aw, drop it." Skipper turned over to face the bunk opening again. "Lie closer and I'll block the wind for you."
"Yeah, it's from the north tonight and it's fixin' to snow." Private pressed his back to Skipper's. He giggled.
"What?"
"Just thinkin.' You're breakin' the north wind."
"Cut it --- cheese and crackers, now I set you off again --- I mean shut it. As of right now."
"Bonas nochies, Skippa. Hold on, we ought to trade places. You're the one with the holes in his coat." He clambered over to the outside of the bunk. "Actions speak louder than words, you said it first."
"Buenas noches, amigo."
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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