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Undertow	By : pronker Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar Views: 11341 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction set in Dreamworks' Penguins of Madagascar franchise. I do not own its characters, basic premise or settings.

Chapter List
- 1-1/?
- 2-2/?
- 3-3/?
- 4-4/?
- 5-5/?
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- 37
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Security protocols bolstered Kowalski's sense of scientific order, and he and Rico patrolled from dawn until 11 a.m. on Saturday the 17th of March. St. Patrick's Day meant a lot to the Big Apple, too, what with upped amount of visitors to the city and general bonhomie. Inside the zoo, bonanimauxie prevailed except for an area that ought to be peace personified: the Children's Zoo.
Oh, there had been a discontent ripple or three from the spider monkeys habitat near the children's zoo nursery a few weeks back. Monkeys flung poo from the trapezes strung from the top of the total enclosure cage, but the turds only splattered the community's tree. Kowalski put down the spider monkeys' incontinence to general excitement over the upcoming St. Patrick's Day Parade and pooh-poohed the notion that the nimble monkeys actually could escape.
Efforts to speak with them were more of a strain than communicating with the chameleons, because the chameleons displayed a genial personality despite their lack of common animal speech. Spider monkeys not only would scream what everyone took to be bad Brazilian Portuguese words at you, but they reached skinny arms through the gaps in their cage to pinch the unwary. In particular, their hateful natures despised the color red, which Alice discovered when one snatched a hank of her hair out of its bun. They must have taken a leaf from ABBA's book and learned The Lion Sleeps Tonight phonetically to sing it in the Thanksgiving talent show.
Kowalski waxed philosophical as he pursued his duty in checking out the nasty simian newcomers, five months' residents yet still defiantly unsocial with outsiders of their troupe. They didn't seem to get along well with insiders of their troupe either, with no leader to settle disputes. Kowalski remained glad he was a penguin in a rookery.
Skipper, my training as your second holds true as ever. I hope you and Private claim your full measure of happiness, however you do it. Rico and I will carry on in the traces. "We're lucky the spider monkeys plan chaos but never deliver, right, Rico?" he murmured, softly enough to evade perception by the monkeys who had gathered at the rim of their cage to scope out the penguins. He suspected they understood American even if they refused to speak it.
Rico cocked his head at the monkeys, who mimicked his stance. He growled, "Kwoskii, howyuknow?" while schooling his face to suggest vigilance, the way Penny did. Staring contests he could ace like nobody's business and it seemed the monkeys could, too.
After three unproductive minutes of staring during which Kowalski muttered well it just seems in their nature to jabber and dither but not deliver, the penguins moved along to marginally more communicative Childrens' Zoomanity.
Kowalski zeroed in on the most troublesome ungulate residents of the broad meadow to expend time and energy in the most efficient way possible. Once this group was out of the way, they'd progress to chatting up the bunnies and Randy. That chore done, they'd peek into the nursery to double check the zoo's infants and then it was onto a vantage point to watch the parade for a bit of fun. Faux Skipper and Plushie Private stood in place at their habitat while Rico and Kowalski patrolled, lounging like lounge lizards around the empty food bowl. It had been Rico's idea to anchor Faux Skipper in the mild breeze by draping Plushie Private over his violently orange feet.
After an assessment of Nannygoat's brood who nursed full teats on a complacent Nannygoat, Kowalski steeled himself to interview one of her kindred who would offer guff rather than a companionable nod as she had. "So, Chark, how goes it?"
Stay noncommittal, said Dr. Phil, and remember that questions are like attacks to some touchy folks, so keep them few and far between. Kowalski plastered a neutral look on his pan and elbowed Rico, who did the same.
The dwarf fainting goat looked left and right to his two pot-bellied hangers on to exchange smirks and then opened his mouth to reply from a sneering dark gray face. Suddenly the sneer became a sickly grimace. "Wh-What's that? I've never seen such a sc-scary --- " he choked out and swayed on his feet as he goggled over their shoulders.
Kowalski and Rico spun to follow his line of sight. Rico guffawed before Kowalski elbowed him again. "That's the Goodyear Blimp! We get to witness its first visit in years from Akron, Ohio to En Why Cee. I promised Skipper and Private that we'd videocam it because they're away right now, um never mind." Don't talk too much about your personal life, get down to business like I would, fix any problem and then move on to the next animal, Skipper would say.
Chark regained his customary attitude with a toss of his head and a stamped hoof. "Big deal. What's it to us?"
Kowalski put his own spin on his command training as he prepared to plant a seed of scientific wonder. It couldn't hurt to try. "This Goodyear Blimp edition started flying like a big, um, big --- " Rico mimed smoking a Habanero 87 Churchill cigar --- "cigar in 2014 with a top airspeed of 73 miles per hour powered by three vectored engines at 200 horsepower each. Isn't that amazing?"
Rude noises were the goats' specialty. "I say again, so what? Can we animals ride it?" Kowalski considered Randy The Sheep, who meandered some yards away. Why couldn't these caprines learn from Randy? Randy parlayed his borderline obnoxious personality into bare tolerance of his fellow animals and the human guests. It took effort on Randy's part to do even this much pursuing a worthwhile motto: Life isn't that bad in a petting zoo, so make the most of it.
Kowalski supposed a mammal lacking certain important boy bits like Chark and his pals already had a mad on against the whole world, so obnoxiousness was a coping mechanism. He'd need to consult Dr. Phil's sayings later. The esteemed doctor's Don't make me put your head in my blender sounded a tad extreme. He kept his head up as he answered the provoking question honestly.
"Um, not without stealth mode, no."
"Can goats eat it? We eat about anything." Chark began to chew his cud to demonstrate. The other two goats followed suit and the whole goaty atmosphere calmed, which was encouraging.
Kowalski watered the seed of wonder diligently. "Its skin is strong and fatigue resistant Tedlar polymer covering a length of 246.4 feet with a maximum envelope width of 46.45 feet and overall height of 57.57 feet, surely no goat could consume that square footage of ---
"We'd give it a try, bird."
A sunshine metaphor, perhaps? "Look at it this way, a blimp gets you to admire the sky instead of always looking at the ground searching for your next meal. Don't goats need inspiration?"
"We're very self reliant." So it was down to a battle of wills, but Kowalski wasn't ready to come out of the clouds.
"A blimp generates dreams of travel?" The clouds turned to wispy stratus formations.
"Yah yah!" Rico joined in.
"Nah, once you've seen old Rocky Top, Tennessee, you're set for life in sightseeing. Am I right, boys?" Three beards waggled in perfect herd agreement. "I'm right."
Kowalski's psyche landed on earth with a thump. "Life is more than travel or eating. Last October's Blessing of the Animals procession brought up every one of our spirits in church, so this year maybe you three can join it."
Rico took a leaf from Kowalski's status as second, someone able to rein in Skipper's wildest paranoia or at least to channel it productively. Now he must himself stand in as a, er, stand in for Kowalski's role because his love was losing ground in the debate. Rico massaged his throat to communicate in the clearest fashion he could muster. "Aminalsblestliekwhoa."
Kowalski took it from there. "What my compatriot wants to get across, Chark, is that October 4th is the day we animals receive blessings from Padre Alfonso or whoever presides next time --- "
Chark stopped chewing his cud. "You mean to stand there and tell me that animals can parade in a church?"
Kowalski shrugged. "Sure, what's your point?"
"We weren't here in this zoo in time for it. I resent that." Kowalski exchanged an exasperated look with Rico. There was no placating an animal with this size grudge against the world.
Rico had had enough. "Tuffitout." The security patrol proved bothersome to his peace of mind, and he missed Skipper's attitude in Kowalski. He himself loved the bird, but he was not blind to him. Kowalski was a beta personality, lover more than fighter, although on occasion his gut instinctively prompted him to get down and dirty. Rico wanted to move along from the fractious goats' paddock to save his own serenity. "C'monKwoskii."
Kowalski's brain bogged down in Chark's rhetoric. "Resent it, why? Nobody can go back in time to --- " he caught himself upon remembering his Chronotron --- "comparatively few animals can travel in time --- "
Chark bobbed his goateed head with its bobbed horns. He looked far from fainting as his fellows formed a wedge with lowered skulls. The bosses where goat horns normally sprouted from still acted as thick battering rams. "Goats like us wethers don't get any breaks. That ends here." Chark looked to left and right to receive support and got it.
Kowalski tried a Dr. Phil quote to maintain peace. "Anger is nothing more than an outward expression of hurt, fear, and frustration. How will anything you do today change the past? Wait until October and I'm sure the good Padre will --- "
Chark took it the wrong way, or maybe introspection simply wasn't his thing. "What are you bleating about? Anger is anger! We've got the right not to be passed over! We shall and will crash the St. Patrick's Day Parade in protest!" He took a breath to calm down. "Boys, keep it real, keep it cool. We don't want to faint."
Kowalski slapped himself in a Skipperly fashion to generate options. It didn't work.
The goats nodded to each other as they breathed in through the nose and out through the mouth for one minute. Then they set out at a trot which became a gallop towards the children's zoo entrance gate and then veered towards the spider monkeys.
"Hey, what are you doing?" hollered Kowalski. The breeze picked up, bringing blaring trumpets and tinkling glockenspiels of marching bands to their earholes. There came a whinny from New York's Finest mounted patrol as the parade commenced. Most attendees lined the sidewalk just outside the main zoo walls to watch the spectacle. A few, however, visited the zoo for a quieter Saturday excursion.
Fluffer, Nutter and William twitched noses with pleasure as kiddies patted their glossy white bunny fur.
Parents remained on alert as parents always do.
"Kwoskii, deywild!"
Randy The Sheep looked their way. He had enjoyed gentler treatment than usual by sticky kiddie hands this morning and now his good mood shattered as the goats stampeded past. "What's with you three? Criminey, first the spider monkeys act loofy and now goats?"
Fluffer, Nutter, and William sat up on their hind legs to spy the excitement without joining in it. "Watch out, they awe cwashing fwew!"
Parents grabbed their kids to shove them behind their own bodies, ever vigilant to protectprotectprotect. Kowalski catalogued Urdu and Quebecois in the tumult of human warnings but understanding English remained his default as one parent bellowed in a makeshift public address system. "Gangway, people! These goats are headed for trouble! Grab your kids, not goat kids your own kids oh you know what I mean!"
How had Dr. Phil's advice led to this? Kowalski floundered with an anguished, "Aw no, the parade will be ruined!"
Rico gabbled in his native Hamarskaftet Nunatak before his English filter kicked in. "Kwoskiiopshunz!"
Blurry options refused to focus on Kowalski's mental clipboard. "I'm barren as the Ross Ice Shelf! Follow them! It's the least we can do for damage control!" Hooves clattered through the zoo to the spider monkey habitat across the brick courtyard, bypassing the nursery.
Now, penguin commandos noticed Burt's gossip about a St. Patrick's Day uprising from the spider monkeys yet paid it no serious mind. The creatures maintained a reputation for enraged screams with no real effect except annoyance, and Burt often heard the gist of a story wrong despite his huge ears. Today was to be different; today the monkeys had allies. Kowalski and Rico power slid after the three goats, one to each side of the wedge formation.
Chark and his pals zeroed in on the monkey cage in riotous mode. "Rocky Top will always be home sweet home to meeeeeee --- " sang Chark along with his fellows.
"Rico! They're colluding with the spider monkeys, I see it all now! However did they communicate with the little twerps? Slide underneath the one on starboard and I'll take port!" Kowalski put the pedal to the metal. "We'll trip them into the middle one!"
The goats burst into the home stretch for the cage. Kowalski and Rico gave it all they had, yet the prospect of chaos fueled energy for goaty muscles and the plan to trip the quadrupeds fell short. Chark kicked backwards and missed Rico's jaw narrowly. If the kick had connected, the team's explosives expert may have never spewed again. Kowalski rethought his options, which dotted his mental clipboard like dashboard lights now that adrenaline surged to clear his mind. "Rico, stop!"
Kowalski and Rico halted directly behind the goats for a last minute consult. Rico's grin was wicked. "Kaboom?"
"I wish we could. I wish we could." Part of Kowalski's mind dissociated from the sitch to observe the monkeys drawing away from the part of their fence nearest the goats. It was as if they communicated in Secret Evil Code with the goats, based on what happened next.
The victory evading their pursuers spurred Chark to sing with a chorus of spider monkey language that no zooster understood. "Now I've had years of cramped up city life, trapped like a duck in a pen," he baaaahed as he threw an obnoxious look in the penguins' direction. "Now all I know is it's a pity life, can't be simple again. Rocky Top, you'll always be, home sweet ho-ome to me, good old Rocky Top, Rocky Top Tennessee. Tennessee Vols, charge!"
Three heads butted, the chain link gave up its weakest link and spider monkeys spilled through the gap. "Climb aboard!" exulted Chark. A cluster of simians scrabbled to ride like Mike Smith on the goats while gesticulating to their fellows who ran alongside on all fours.
Next, the Children's Zoo entrance gate stood in the way of anarchic freedom. Kowalski fought against the impression that the monkeys and goats were as mindless as the army ants that the team escaped in Guatemala. Despite his inability to understand their motives, any animal above the rank of fish deserved consideration and even protection against themselves. For his own sanity, he had to believe this.
Chark and Company bounced off the gate, shook their heads for a retry and charged again in a surgical strike at the latch. The beleaguered unlocked gate slammed open and animals gained the park lawn at large, animals without the disciplined freedom that penguin commandos enjoyed. The goats clattered across a closed-off 66th Street to head towards a throng of people strung between the Carousel and the Heckscher Playground.
The penguin commandos slowed pursuit as they trickled through the gate to survey the greensward in a discouraged slump. After a moment, Rico galvanized into nonproductive action as his spirit swamped with emotions. He pinwheeled his flippers while Kowalski tapped his temple and furrowed his brow. The goats and monkeys appeared delirious as they headed into the crowd and not towards the noisy parade to the east on Fifth Avenue. What was wrong with Chark? Did he fear the concentration of New York's Finest in the parade who would squash his protest like a bug's? Fewer police guarded the playground than normal because the multitude on the sidewalks commanded their attention more. Did he actually wish to hurt humans and their young? Had Chark gone as bananas as the monkeys?
The scientist framed the scene before him like Antonioni, going from portrait to landscape and back again. He seized his love's shoulders to point him towards the vista of galloping goats and raving mad monkeys, riding three to a goat. The rest of the monkeys, fifteen strong, skittered alongside their fellows, shrieking. Onlookers scattered out of the way while mothers grasped toddlers' hands and shrieked a little themselves as they hustled their charges to safety.
"Rico! Do you trust me?"
Rico had a ways to go to get rid of excess energy. He flapped his flippers over his head while jumping like on a pogo stick. Finally, he burped out, "Yahcourse!"
"Do you have what it takes to halt these runaways before they disperse to butt into the crowd, specifically a net large enough to snare them and a rocket to carry it?"
Rico's face blanked as he thought. He nodded and rubbed his belly. "Yah! Gopher ittttt!"
"By Hawks' hambone, we can do this! Fire when ready!"
Rico stamped his feet, sighted the target of three goats and swarming spider monkeys, tilted his head back and roared, "Kaboom!"
He inhaled two cubic feet of air and closed his eyes.
"No, wait!" Kowalski framed the rapidly retreating group of animals once more. They neared the crowd of people, some of whom were mellow earlier in the day than usual, it being St. Patrick's Day and all. He could hear cries of "What the --- I'll never drink green beer again!" and "Look out!" and "We got monkeys riding goats, no frackalackin' way!" along with new profanities that he added to his glossary.
"Whutyadoon! Deygettinway!" Rico danced in place.
Kowalski cocked his head, operating his abacus. "Air currents, humidity, speed, vector, net weight, cumulostratus clouds --- Rico, face the opposite direction!" He turned his partner until the broad back was to the action, an unnatural pose for a commando penguin.
"Whaaaaaa?"
"Yes! It's the only logical vector!" He bent down to his love's height. "Trust me if you've never trusted me before."
It took only one nanosecond to make up the explosives expert's mind. "Cowabungahhh!" Rico bellowed and then through strained jaws, the wonder tummy belched forth a rocket trailing a thirty foot square net, compressed and slimy.
The rocket began at a forty-five degree angle per Rico's stance, and as the weight of the net affected its trajectory, it headed straight up. At the zenith of its climb, Kowalski covered his face.
Rico watched open-beaked as the rocket flamed until it veered into a forty-five degree angle headed the opposite way than its initial trajectory, directly towards the galloping goats. He shook Kowalski's shoulder.
"Workinliekwhoa!"
Kowalski shrugged him off. "I can't look!"
Rico manhandled him to face his victory and pinned Kowalski's trembling flippers to his sides. "Yagotta!"
Kowalski's voice rose in pitch to its screechiest. "You're right, it, it's working like, like, like --- "
"Whoa." The rocket plunged to earth in front of the goats and monkeys, snarling them in the trailing net that flared with the spring breeze. The two birds cheered and kissed and cheered some more.
"Whew! I hope Private and Skipper are having a better weekend!"
Rico nodded before gasping, "Kwoskii, lookdere!"
A Native American officer directing all people away from danger, or so he thought, lost his footing as the net settled and was in harm's way himself. There was lots of thrashing inside the corded corral due to the panicked monkeys' incisors as they attempted to bite their way free, the officer's flailing nightstick, and churning goats' hooves before the goats fainted one by one.
IOIOIOIOIO
Aboard the blimp, Chuck Charles directed the cameraperson across the aisle from him to zoom onto the action on his side of the cabin and away from the parade on the operator's side. The man carefully made his way the few steps and took position between Chuck and Alice, who faced each other in seats which looked forward and backward. Chuck's voice deepened to the timbre used on unusual events such as launching a nuclear sub while he activated his throat mike.
"New Yorkers, you will never ever see a sight like this in your lifetime. I have never beheld such a spectacle in all my thirteen years as your anchorman and four years' morning drive time broadcasting in Walla Walla. I am gabberflasted, I mean flabbergasted." He subsided into quietude after a startled huh when Alice pressed her bulk against the camera operator. The man stumbled sideways into Chuck's Armani-clad knees before his professional attitude took over.
"Hey, watch it! The jiggle compensator on my camera does only so much, lady!"
Alice ignored him as she smacked her forehead over the involvement of zoo animals. She twisted in her window seat to point out the hullaballoo two hundred feet down to her friend who sat behind her. "You see, Filo? You see? I can't be gone for more than one minute --- "
"Calm down, chica. It's not good to get this upset." Filo reached over the seat to pat her friend's shoulder.
"I'll calm down when I'm down on the ground. Winning Zoo Worker Of The Year has got to mean more than getting a ride in a blimp and a two percent raise." Alice grimaced at the patting and leaned away as she peered out the spacious window head to head with Chuck. The operator growled and aimed his camera over their noggins. "What a mess! I suppose I'll need to step in."
Filo laughed hard enough to bounce her curls. "You're out of it. You can't do a goddam thing, so chill out. Don't spin your wheels, mamita."
Alice looked surprised as she peeked at Filo in the notch between the edge of her headrest and the window. "I never heard you cuss before, Filo."
Filo opted today for her usual uniform and tapped her badge as she leaned in to answer. "You haven't seen what I've seen as a peacekeeper, Alice. I've been first responder on scenes I'll never tell you about and sometimes there's just nothing you can do. Trust me, whoever trapped those runaways did a fantastic job. The officers in the park will mop up. Ay bomboncita, por que siempre te metes en problemas?"
Alice grumped as she settled forward once more. She, too, had chosen her usual outfit except for steel-toed oxfords replacing her high top boots. In rare whimsy, she wore Invader Zim socks. She spoke above the sounds of the Wingfoot's propulsion. "Yeah, maybe I can sit this one out given my circumstances. Ouch, I strained against my seat belt and my belly hurts now."
The cameraman ignored everything but acquiring the perfect shot as Chuck broke his silence. "What is happening? What do you want me to do? I don't know anything about --- "
"Crisis averted, Chuck. I'm on it." Filo stood and steadied her stance against the side of Alice's seat. She undid her friend's buckle and readjusted it before attaching it again. "Better?"
"Er, some. Thanks." Alice looked up into her friend's face and produced a rare smile. "You're a good pal, Filo."
IOIOIOIOIO
The situation was just as agitated on the ground.
"We've got to help, Rico! The officer will be hurt!" Kowalski and Rico charged into the fray in their fastest slide yet.
For years afterwards, the officer endured being the butt of squadroom jokes for his tales of black and white dervishes freeing him and pulling the net's edges tight to contain the runaways. He could have sworn they saluted him before slipping from sight into the wilds of Central Park.
IOIOIOIOIO
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