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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 got right to business. "Set the beer we snagged and the fish oil in a safe place and look for a weed that resembles the dandelions of Central Park. Yes, it will be hard to tell it from other weeds but if I spotted it from the admin building, you can see it from up close. It's a good thing the snowfall isn't piled as heavy under the shelter of the tree. No, Rico, we don't want a flamethrower to melt the snow so put it away."
Within the ring of safety lighting by the main entrance flagpole, an observer would see four penguins scratching like chickens under a weeping willow. The tree's drooping branches etched designs on the pond nearby, which looked forlorn despite the pattering of its fountain's droplets that dimpled its surface. It took kiddies around a pond throwing in pennies on which to whisper kiddie wishes to make a pond come to life, thought Skipper. He started to picture the youngest member of his team who was scratching beside him tossing a penny into the Central Park Zoo's fountain. He caught himself in time. Private had not been a kiddie in ages.
"So is this hebenon?" Private stuck out his tongue to taste test the soggy shriveled leaf that looked like something a human would flick from his sole after a November stroll through Central Park. Skipper sprang sideways to knock it from the young penguin's flipper and Kowalski caught it before it dropped back to the patchy snow.
"Ow! Private! No tasting controlled substances! Never again for your delicate system." The commander winced as he rubbed the left side of his chest. "Dammit, will this ever stop hurting?"
"Delicate? I am not!" Private sulled up and glared at his leader.
Skipper waved away the maundering and got straight to the point. "Once was plenty." He sat after mumbling an Angry Word from his extensive list. He wanted patience with this convalescing thing and he wanted it right now. "Don't be impulsive with sticking anything in your mouth. You are what you eat."
"Then why aren't the Inuit whale blubber?"
Rico offered a cheesy grin and shuttled Private away. He said something to him that made Private look sheepish.
As Skipper took a breather after his explosive exertion, Kowalski stuck his tongue into the moisture clinging to the leaf. "I'll test it." The others watched as the scientist rolled the bead of moisture around his mouth and swallowed. "Nothing yet. There are other plants that look like it." He sighed gustily. "If you three paid attention to my briefings more you'd remember the lecture about global weed distribution from four and two sevenths months ago oh honestly why do I bother instructing you dunderheads --- "
"Zaywhut?"
"K'walski, maybe we drift off because it's borin' --- "
"Gentlemen, we've found our truth serum plant. Kowalski, get it together."
Science Guy must have been practicing his falsetto. "I feel pretty oh so pretty I feel pretty and witty and --- "
"Slap him, somebody."
Rico upended his bunkmate and shook the plant's effects right out of him. Kowalski retrieved the bottles and thanked Rico for the intervention as they waddled to the moose habitat.
IOIOIOIOIO
Sasquatch downed the fish oil without hesitation and chucked the empty out the south door. "Harreram, that's awful. You're sure it will work?"
"It works for us penguins. I woke up one time on a bed in Kyoto --- "
"Sir, you don't want to tell that story to her."
"Oh. Right. I'd have to clean it up."
"With Clorox, and we don't have any."
Hugo got them back on track. "So Blowhole needs prompting to drink with Sasquatch and we'll listen to figure out his reasons for making giant worms. That's ambitious." He got a gleam in his eye while his seamed simian lips puckered. "It's rather exciting, too, because maybe it will work and maybe not. It's more risk than I've been involved with in some time. I like it! Ayam, tune up your acting skills. I'll help you."
"I'm not much of an actor. I said that before." Sasquatch thrust out her chest and struck a dramatic akimbo pose as the penguins watched. Hugo shook his head and rearranged her left hand to cup her chin while he poked her right arm straight ahead at shoulder level with waggling fingers falling from a limp wrist.
"Let's improvise a scenario. If someone bends to kiss your hand, that's the proper position. Now look down and then up into his face with a half smile. Bat your eyelashes. I said bat, not flutter. Quarter speed. No, third. Better. That's not half bad, ayam." Hugo turned to the penguins with an indulgent smile. "She can rehearse before the call."
Kowalski had adjusted his internal clock to synchronize with other nights' communications gauged from Arcturus' position since fog still covered the zoo and shuttered its canopy of stars. He had allowed a generous lead time to the communication. "Well. That's genteel and all, but we want the opposite of genteel. We want loopy and drunk, but not so drunk as to pass out or spew."
Hugo looked dubious. "I've seen drunks but never been drunk. The closest I can think of is a saying that my captors chanted while transporting me in a fanny pack to the seaport. They giggled a lot. Let me think, jungle time is so long ago ... oh yes. Durian jatuh sarung naik, or 'the durian falls and the sarong comes up.' Naturally as a toddler I didn't understand it as I do now, but the sense of devil-may-care when smelling a delectable durian ought to be similar to alcohol's effects." He windmilled his arms and staggered as he sniffed hard enough to deviate a septum. "How's this?"
Rico sputtered as he shook his head. He lolled out his tongue and flung a flipper around Skipper's and Kowalski's shoulders as he sagged between them to mime needing support by designated drivers. Skipper and Kowalski eyed each other and dropped Rico to the ground. "Too overdone for the first and the other is too far comatose. Skipper, we need tipsy and happy here with a touch of hallucination. Join me in improv?"
The two bypassed dignity in the interest of putting away a menace to earth's environment. They croaked two verses of Sweet Adeline while embracing and butting their heads together. They pointed to a spot behind Sasquatch and gargled a welcome to an unseen companion and when he or she joined them, they became overjoyed to the point of tears. At the last, they propped each other up with dippy smiles and googly eyes.
"Like that, Sasquatch," Skipper sniffled. He rubbed his eyes as he surveyed his troops. "Aw. You look like regular old penguins now. I could get used to your auras. Crud."
Kowalski thought of a strategy. "Sasquatch, what do you do when you get drunk?"
"Hello? The whole point of tying one on is to forget troubles and especially blank out what you did with Blowhole. I don't remember because I don't want to." She leaned over the manger with folded arms.
Skipper was the only one who could speak after full disclosure. "Tee Em Eye aside, act the way you've seen others act in bars, or, or, movies. Or TV."
"I stick to myself in bars, except for that one time. I don't like TV."
"Movies?"
"Never saw one."
"You're dropped from the plan. We have nothing in common."
"If that's your humor, color me unamused."
Kowalski waddled into the breach. "Moving beyond the beer effects, henbane ingestion results in sensations of flight and restlessness. Work it." He crossed his flippers and cocked his head at her.
"Here, ayam. Prop." Hugo placed the beer bottle in her grip. He closed both of his gnarled hands around her knuckles. "Try hard."
Sasquatch looked confused for a moment. After looking to where the moon last appeared, she took a deep breath and smiled widely. It seemed sincere enough as she ran her tongue around her lips and relaxed her shoulders.
Kowalski critiqued. "That's a start, but open up your face. You look like a deer in the headlights. Okay. Now slump." Sasquatch rolled her head on her shoulders and formed a serpentine slouch with her spine. She swayed and put out her free hand to Hugo, who got into the spirit and steadied her. She belched loudly and he wagged a bony forefinger at her as she waved the bottle under his nose.
"Laugh," ordered Kowalski.
She froze. "It's been a long time."
"Think of when you were happy," Hugo said soberly. He seemed to have lost his spike of enjoyment.
Sasquatch handed the bottle to him as she broke away to lean one hand against the jamb of the north door. She stared into the night as the pelt on her back quivered. The penguins looked at Hugo, who shrugged. "She'll get over it." He spoke as if he had weathered similar storms in his long life and seeing them in others provoked the old saying and this too, shall pass.
Skipper had not reached that stage of detachment from earnest troubles, although he knew it could afflict him at some point if he lived long enough. "Give it a moment," the commander said to Kowalski. He moved to stand shoulder-to-shin beside Sasquatch as they both took in the view to the north. The fog skirled between the ghostly back chainlink fencing and the invisible admin building and it seemed they were on the Endless Iceberg looking out at the Eternally Foggy Sea. It was enough to remind him where he'd nearly swum to and he backed away from the memory that he lived with because of this female. It was time to be a leader.
"Sasquatch."
"I said I'd cooperate, but I can't act happy when I'm not. This part of your mission needs scuttling." She swiped her forearm across her eyes.
"Fake it until you make it." Skipper loosened up. "Aw, I know it sounds corny, but hey, it works for me when I need it to. " He looked back at the others who pretended not to gawk as they milled around. He lowered his voice as he leaned closer. "Try this on for size: May it, uh that's your soul, shed its bleak load of fears and regrets, may it stand undismayed in that glory of light, stripped and stark unafraid till the clear evening star marks the end of the road. So go back onstage and sell this to that maniac mammal, er, not that you're not a mammal, too. You know what I mean."
Sasquatch crossed her arms and Skipper mirrored her pose. "Pblbpbpbpbpbl, like the words are magic or something."
"Words can be. Come on, what's the worst that could happen?"
"Hmmph, you tell me. I'm in over my head with worms and plans and delays to plans. I just want to get to the action part and go home."
It was time to break out the big guns. "Manfredi and Johnson said that too and they never saw home afterwards. Our team used to be six until the tsunami swept us four apart from them. The last I saw was their pink pool noodles and I vowed to never be underprepared again. I'm preening you for a swim in dangerous waters, what do you say?"
"Hmmph."
"And don't let it slip that I quoted poetry. Is it a deal?"
Sasquatch turned to face him. She flapped her arms like Big Bird. "Yippee. I'm flying. The joy of flight. Amazing."
Kowalski approached. "That's the spirit, Sasquatch. Keep it up and now do this." He opened his eyes to their maximum aperture, crossed them and gurgled, "The colors sound loud hey Blowhole did you ever really look at a galosh what is the singular of galoshes never mind I could go for some pizza can you call it in for me --- " He ran out of breath. "And suchlike. Random comments ought to sell it. Oh yes, act restless, too."
"Like this?" She twitched her shoulders and zipped her gaze from one penguin to another before fixing upon the behavior of bouncing on the balls of her feet. She continued until Kowalski stopped her.
"That'll do. Save it for showtime after you sprinkle in the faux henbane. Let's set up the options by the TV."
Sasquatch lined up the bottle of Mariestads Påskbrygd atop the 52-inch screen TV along with the blob of henbane leaf to show Blowhole and its doppelganger to actually plop into her beer. She glanced by habit out the north door and then at Kowalski.
"Five minutes," he said. She puffed her cheek flanges out and paced, waving her arms and chanting a Nepali phrase.
Private pulled Skipper aside. "Wot does feelin' giggly have to do with a sarong goin' up? Wot's a sarong?"
"Private, I don't have the time for another 'special briefing.' Let it go." The young penguin looked wise, whispered 'oh,' and made room for Hugo.
It must have been wearyingly late for the aged orangutan, but Hugo showed concern for his friend in a low key fashion. "Penguin, reactive plants like the leaf she's to substitute can have alarming effects. You take prunes, for instance --- "
"No, you take them. Kowalski's got this figured out." Skipper found himself counting seconds and when Kowalski met his gaze with a firm nod, he reached up to Sasquatch's hand. She looked calm enough as he tapped the crooked finger that a penguin had broken. Their eyes met and he acknowledged the role she was playing in this game of oneupmanship to a mad aquatic overlord's complex scheme. Everyone else hissed at him to join them behind the manger and he complied after a wink.
The game began.
"We-e-e-e-e-ell, Sasquatch, as I live and breathe." Blowhole bubbled the greeting to demonstrate. "Another night, another dollar. I hope your day was more eventful than mine."
Sasquatch swung the beer in front of the screen like a pendulum as Skipper pictured Blowhole's lone pupil blowing wide open. "It's about to get lots better."
"Where did that come from?" The dolphin licked his lips loud enough so they all heard.
"I did some dumpster diving after His Royalness' visit and scored one or ten of thesh. Alllllllll for me." She managed a snicker if not a full throated laugh. It was progress.
"Good on you." His voice turned sly. "I've got a full bar."
"Good on you. I've got something to make thish even better." She pirouetted before the screen and slapped her hand against the bottle.
"Don't tell me you've got the ingredients of a boilermaker. Your keeper will scrape you off the floor with a demitasse spoon."
She brayed a laugh like a donkey and Skipper chilled. Blowhole was no fool and did not take being played. She was close to overdoing her act. He stepped to the left of the manger. He caught her eye as she dropped out of her dramatic head toss that was violent enough to sprain a ligament. He flapped his flipper violently up high and then lowered it to rest at chest level.
"Ahem. Yes. Boilermaker no, something more natural is what I found, if you know what I mean."
"Nothing would surprise me in hippie Viking land. You can't possibly have scored --- "
"Henbane for the win!" She brandished the true leaf of the weed before the screen.
"Hold it closer and keep it still, for kelp's sake. I want to scan it." The laser eye beam emerged from the screen and changed color to ice blue as the penguins learned something new about their foe. A ray traced the leaf and when the scan completed, the familiar red returned and retreated into Blowhole's location. Beside Skipper, Kowalski gnashed his beak. Uh oh, his lieutenant was more jealous than ever of Blowhole's abilities. This would bear watching.
"Yeah, okay, I'm up for, well, partying. With you. By remote control, if you will. The crabs are teetotallers, something about their feeding filters getting clogged with booze, I dunno. And it's so boring here it makes Hetauda look like Las Vegas."
She was in the proper groove. "Just lemme demonstrate and you'll be higher than K2 soonish, Bubba Ray."
Disaster. They had neglected an opener. Skipper took full responsibility for the gaffe. He elbowed Rico and mimed holding a bottle while deploying an opener, but the materiel would not be needed as Rico elbowed his leader back and pointed. Sasquatch opened the bottle with her teeth as she smoothly switched the henbane out for the other leaf atop the TV. Rico's jaw dropped and Skipper saw that Rico had added Sasquatch's name to Sven's as someone to hero worship.
"See, open the bottle and take a swig to make room." She gulped a fair portion. "Then sprinkle leafy-poo on top and swish." She became garrulous. "You gotta let it steep I let it steep oh I dunno maybe a minute so yeah. That happens."
Skipper's eyes grew round as Sasquatch emptied the bottle in one swallow and tossed it aside. She melted into the ground.
"Sasquatch! Hey! Where'd you go?"
She levered herself up to sway before the screen. "Hi, dude."
"Good stuff, huh?"
"Mmmmhmmmm." She twirled her chest hair with both hands. "Soooooooo."
"There's nothing like it, huh?"
"Mmmmmhmmmm." She examined her nails. "Get some. It'll do ya good. Oh yeah, how's the plan pro-progr-coming along?"
"Fair to middling. Some doofuses discovered how dangerous they are and got photographic evidence so they're not as secret as before. Just as deadly, not as secret. The plan is still full steam ahead, not to worry."
"I couldn't worry about anything at this moment in time. Shay, um, time --- when can you get shome of the good stuff, d'you think? Partying alone is, is sad. I've had enough of sad." The group behind the manger sensed the underlying truth in her last sentence. It made the act more convincing.
"If you don't get a better offer, you mean." Good grief, Blowhole playing hard to get was sickening to behold. Skipper's last mackerel threatened to make a return appearance.
Sasquatch only made her hands like binoculars as she played looking around her stable. "Woohoo, beautiful and easy dolphin lady spotted off the port bow! All hands, I mean flippers, engage!"
"You're drunk and high and I wish I were. Eh, tomorrow Blue Six can scout around in the daylight for the weed. It'll be a good break in assignment for him."
She dropped out of character. "So tomorrow night is Operation Blow Me Away?"
Skipper held his breath as he heard caution in Blowhole's voice. "That sounds we-e-e-e-eird coming from you. Make it Operation Minion's Casual Sunday. Laters."
Sasquatch sashayed out the north door to get fresh air and, Skipper suspected, alone time. Living with a roomie was a large change from her norm.
"Sir, it's a delay within a delay. I expected as much."
"Skippa, the time will swoosh on by, you'll see."
"Penguin, you have an explodey look about you."
"'Kipppaaaah nokaboom."
"I'm fine. Sheesh." He turned his back on them all and sought out Sasquatch. He thought that she would head north as far as she could go because that was where the moon had last been at this hour of the night. He found her by the chain link fence. "You did well. Now we've confirmed he's at a disadvantage because he's eager for a diversion and that he has six helpers or whatever."
Sasquatch hooked her hands in the chain link fence to rattle it. "Prison. I need out. When, bird?"
"ASAP. I get impatient, too."
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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