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posted by SJF_Penguin2
Author's note: After having the idea for this Penguins of Madagascar story for several months, I finally decided to start Письмо it in December 2012. I would have liked to Опубликовать it on FanFiction.net as well, but I am unable to do so because my story contains a few non-fictional people. I suppose this could be considered my first "real-person fiction" story, though I prefer to think of it as a unique hybrid. You'll soon see why. Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction and is intended for entertainment only. All dialogue, opinions, and plot events are the invention of the author.

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Burbank, California
Spring 2013

It was the start of another routine день at Nickelodeon. "All right, gentlemen," the producer сказал(-а) as he walked into a large room where four men sat waiting to begin work, "we're ready for you."

"Remind me which episode we're recording today," сказал(-а) Tom, one of the four men, as he and the other voice actors got up from their seats.

The producer glanced down at the вверх sheet on the clipboard he was carrying. "It's the first episode of our surprise fourth season, the one where Kowalski accidentally turns the penguins into otters. It's called 'You выдра, оттер Know Better.'"

Tom cleared his throat and turned to his colleague, Jeff. "Kowalski," he сказал(-а) in the voice of his character, "you turned us into mammals! Don't Ты know how I feel about being turned into mammals?"

Jeff smirked, not missing a beat. "Now, now, Skipper, don't be so negative. Ты should use this as an opportunity to finally tell Marlene how Ты feel."

"Yeah, right!"

"Actually, 'Skipper,'" the producer spoke up, "we've recently added a scene like that to the script. The network thinks a 'Skilene' moment will be good for ratings."

Tom chuckled. "Kids these days." He and the others then made the short walk over to the recording room.

After the five entered the soundproof room, the producer handed each of the voice actors a copy of the script. "I'll give Ты guys about fifteen минуты to review the script and familiarize yourselves with the changes before we go live mic." He then left them and took his place in the nearby control room.

After skimming through the script for a few minutes, James, the voice of Private, turned to his right, where Rico's voice actor was still looking down at his copy. "So, what do Ты think, John?" he asked.

"I'm liking this one so far," John replied as he continued reading. "Rico gets to sing in his operatic voice again, which is always fun to do."

"A lot of people enjoy when he does that," James agreed.

Just then, a fly zipped past John's face and then landed in the middle of the page he was reading. "Hey!" he сказал(-а) as he shook the script to try to get the fly off. The pest quickly flew away, but only a few секунды passed before it returned, this time landing on John's left arm. He tried to squash the insect, but it narrowly escaped. It then buzzed in his left ear. "You're gonna die!" John yelled. He rolled up his script and began swatting around in the air with it.

"What's the matter over there?" Tom called over from the opposite side of the room.

"A fly got a little too close to John, and now he's out for revenge," James said.

"Ah, revenge," Tom сказал(-а) in Skipper's voice. "One of the few concepts that always make me feel warm and fuzzy inside." He, James, and Jeff then watched as John kept trying to hit the fly.

After a few еще swings, John tucked the script under his left arm and then pulled out a small bottle from his рубашка pocket. He began to spray its contents at the fly.

"So Ты just always carry a pocket-size can of Raid around with you?" James asked.

"It's not bug killer; it's breath spray," John сказал(-а) as he continued in his pursuit. "One that isn't yet available to the public. A friend of mine who works for a drug company gave it to me to test out." The fly then landed on a smoke detector on the ceiling, but it was too high for the breath spray mist to reach. John turned around and faced the others, gesturing upward. "A little help, fellas?"

"You don't seriously want us to pick Ты up just so Ты can try to kill a bug with breath spray, do you?" Jeff asked.

John nodded. "Yeah, I kinda do."

The other three sighed collectively, and James and Jeff began to walk over. Tom went for a nearby chair that John could stand on instead, but he set it down when he noticed that James had already lifted John up. He then began to assist Jeff with keeping the two stable.

Now high enough to reach the fly, John aimed the nozzle of his breath spray right at the insect. He laughed in a way that would frighten even Rico and then pressed the actuator down.

There was a small sizzle and then a louder thud as the four men were thrown to the floor. The peppermint mist tingled after it drifted down to meet them.

♦ ♦ ♦

Tom was the first to regain consciousness from whatever had happened. As he opened his eyes, everything around him was a blur. "Jeff! James! John!" he shouted for his Друзья and colleagues. "Where are you? Where am I?" He began to walk around the room frantically with his arms outstretched, hoping to find the others или at least the exit. With each step he took, he wondered why he hadn't even found a Стена yet.

After walking for a few seconds, Tom rubbed his eyes, and the blurriness began to clear up. He then looked down and jumped up in fright at the creatures he saw lying on the floor. It was only because they were unexpected and unexplained that he was startled by their presence—he didn't ordinarily have a fear of penguins.

"What the—" he сказал(-а) as he took a few steps back. "How did Ты get in here? Is this some kind of joke? Am I on Punk'd?"

No one answered, and the three penguins lying on the floor didn't budge. After observing them for a few еще seconds, Tom slowly approached the birds. "OK," he сказал(-а) as he bent down slightly and touched one of them, "cute and cuddly time is over. We have work to do here."

The пингвин opened up its eyes and spoke with a charming British accent. "Tom? Tom, is that you?" The пингвин looked just like the Private character from the Телевидение series he worked on.

Tom slapped himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "OK, what's going on here? Why can Ты talk? Why do Ты look exactly like a fictional character? And how the heck do Ты know my name?"

The пингвин gasped. "Oh dear."

"'Oh dear' is not an answer!" Tom then grabbed the пингвин off the floor, finding it a bit heavier to lift than he had expected. "Now Ты tell me what's going on and where my Друзья are. Do Ты understand me?"

The пингвин nodded, then sighed. "Tom, we're right here with you. I'm James."

"Say what?"

"Something happened and now I'm in Private's body," the пингвин said. He pointed down at the other two penguins. "I'm pretty sure those two are Jeff and John trapped inside Kowalski's and Rico's bodies. And you're, well, you're Skipper."

Tom shook his head. "Impossible. The penguins aren't real. I know, I created them."

"Tom, I know this is hard to believe, but that's what somehow happened. It's as plain as the nose on your face. или lack thereof."

Tom set the пингвин down and then felt his face. "Aaahh!" he screamed. "I have a beak! Holy Madagascar, I have a beak!" A slew of "angry words" then followed.

As Tom continued yelling, the пингвин resembling Kowalski opened his eyes and began to rub his head. "Oh, I've got such an ache in the cerebrum." He groaned.

Tom waddled up to him. "A headache is the least of your problems, Jeff," he said.

Jeff stared at Tom for a moment, squinted, then began to stare again. "You know," he said, "I think you're right. I'm seeing a talking пингвин in front of me right now. I'm probably hemorrhaging."

Tom offered his friend a flipper to help him sit up. "Jeff," he said, "could Ты tell me which element has an atomic number of 17?"

"I believe that's chlorine. Correct?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, beats me. But I'm pretty sure you're not hemorrhaging. Something weird, freaky, and just plain not right has happened to the four of us."

"The four of us?"

Tom pointed one flipper at James, who was standing Далее to him, and the other at John, who was just beginning to get up from the floor. "The actors who play cops and lawyers and doctors on TV are rarely, if ever, real members of those professions, but today we really are the penguins of Madagascar. I'm Tom, this is James, and that's—"

"Gafabbh!"

"—our resident psycho, John. Better known as Rico."

"I'd better let him know what's up," James said. He then waddled over to John.

Jeff rubbed his right flipper up and down his left, still in disbelief. "I don't understand how any of this is possible," he said. "The last thing I remember—well, I don't even remember what the last thing I remember was. I just know that the idea of voice actors turning into the characters they play doesn't make any sense. At least outside the worlds of science fiction and Фан fiction it doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't make any sense," Tom said, "and yet, here we are." An unsettling thought then entered his mind. "Oh no."

"What is it?"

"What if we're not the only ones? What if Nicole is walking down the улица, уличный and has just realized she's Marlene? What if Danny is driving his car in King Julien's body? What if—oh no!—what if Neil is just waking up as Dr. Blowhole?"

"Let's just worry about us for now," Jeff replied. "Besides, even if Neil is waking up right now in the body of a misanthropic supervillain dolphin, it's unlikely he'd share Dr. Blowhole's impulses. Ты don't see me reaching for an abacus или thinking about Doris right now, do you?"

"True, but then how do Ты explain your knowledge of atomic numbers a few moments назад или James's accent или John's only being able to speak in grunts like Rico?"

Jeff sighed. "I can't."

♦ ♦ ♦

"All right, guys," Tom сказал(-а) a few минуты later once the four began to accept what species they currently were, "let's think about how we're going to get out of this mess."

James raised a flipper. "I think we should just stay here and wait for help to arrive," he said. "I'm sure the producer will come right in to investigate when he doesn't get a response from us when he turns the mics on. He'll know what to do."

Tom shook his head. "I don't think that's going to work. We have no way of telling him who we really are. He'd probably just see this as a joke and call either animal control или the zoo. In the case of the former, we will be at the mercy of the Burbank version of Officer X; in the case of the latter, we will spend the rest of our lives shaking our tail feathers at tourists in hopes that they will throw a few рыба our way."

"Wow," James said. "Was that Ты talking или Skipper?"

"Both, I suppose. Ты learn a lot by voicing a paranoid bird for eight years." A thought then came to him. He turned to Jeff. "Jeff, options!"

"That's not funny," Jeff replied. "We're in the middle of a crisis, and you're typecasting me as your options guy. I'm a real man, Ты know."

"You're a real man inside the body of a slightly mad пингвин scientist," Tom continued. "A slightly mad пингвин scientist who also happens to be a genius and my best friend in the unit."

"Your point?"

"We're in uncharted waters here, my friend, at least as humans. I think the only way that we can escape this situation is to take advantage of the quirks we've been given—my desire to lead, your intellect, James's naïveté, John's . . . whatever—by fully getting into character and working together as the brothers we were hatched to be." He put a flipper on Jeff's back. "So what do Ты say, brother?"

Jeff thought for a moment but realized quickly that Tom's idea was likely their best and only hope. He nodded slowly and then raised his right flipper in a salute. "First Lieutenant Kowalski reporting for duty, sir."

Tom smiled, then returned the salute. "At ease, soldier. Ты can call me Skipper."

"Kowalski" relaxed himself and then placed a flipper under his beak and stroked it, hoping it would help stimulate the thought process. After a few moments, he smiled. "Well, shake my nitroglycerin, I think I've got us an option!" he said. He pointed at Private. "James—er, Private—go get me your copy of the script we were going to record this morning."

Private nodded and then waddled away to retrieve his copy.

"Thanks," Kowalski сказал(-а) when Private returned and handed him the script. He then held it up with reverence, as if it were the key to all knowledge. "The way I see it, the problems of cartoon penguins can only be solved with cartoon-penguin solutions. If my reckless use of Болталка chemicals turned us all into otters in this episode, then surely my reckless use—I mean, careful use—of Болталка chemicals here can turn us back into humans." He paused for a moment. "Or at least there's an 88.46 percent chance that it can."

Skipper patted Kowalski on the back. "Great work, Kowalski! Your excellent thinking will be noted in the mission Сообщить I'm not going to bother to write, because no one would believe it anyway."

"Thanks, Skip—" A thought then came to him. He frowned.

"What? What is it, Kowalski?" Skipper asked. "Your expression suggests that my praise of your plan may have been premature, and that reflects poorly on my judgment as unit commander."

"Well," Kowalski said, "it's just that many of the Болталка chemicals I used on TV are completely fake, the concoctions of our talented team of writers. For example, I highly doubt I'll be able to find any magnetohydrotrioxychloride here in the real world—getting my flippers on it required breaking into a government lab where Космос squid bile was being researched."

Skipper groaned. "Curse those writers. Why couldn't they have just devised a simple fix involving vinegar and baking soda? Every kid knows that one."

"I suppose it's because carbon dioxide is relatively harmless as far as chemicals go. There's еще potential for lethality and mayhem with chemicals that have longer names and that are harder to pronounce. That's a scientific fact."

"So we're back at square one?" Private asked.

Kowalski sighed. "I'm afraid so. It's back to the drawing board, even though I don't seem to have my drawing board with me at the moment."

As if on cue, Rico opened up his beak and regurgitated a small whiteboard and a red dry-erase marker. The others just stared.

"Sweet Edmund Fitzgerald!" Skipper said. "I've seen Ты regurgitate things thousands of times, but this time it's just plain freaky."

"Considering Rico was human a few минуты ago, I'm sure some scientific law was just violated here," Kowalski сказал(-а) as he took the objects from Rico. "But I think I have to give it a pass. There are too many bigger violations around us to worry about a mere misdemeanor."

Just then, the four heard a familiar voice come through the speakers in the room. "All right, gentlemen, let's take it from scene 1."

Private gasped. "It's the producer!"

"Blast!" Skipper said. "Kowalski, hook me up with a strategic retreat."

Kowalski nodded. "I'm on it."

"Guys? What's all that racket?" the producer asked. "It sounds like a bunch of squawking penguins in there."

"Faster, Kowalski!" Skipper demanded. "Faster или we may never see our wives and children again unless they pay admission."

Kowalski pointed toward a grate in the ceiling. "Through the ductwork," he said. "It's a clichéd way to escape, but it'll have to do. If Private stands on a chair and then we all form our пингвин ladder, we'll just reach."

Private sighed. "Why do I always get stuck on the bottom?"

"Because you're the youngest," Skipper replied.

"But I'm older than Rico in my human form!"

"Well, it's still a tradition! So don't try to argue your way out of it on a technicality, just get into position."

Private sighed and then slid a nearby chair underneath the opening in the ductwork. After jumping onto it, Skipper climbed onto his shoulders, followed by Rico and Kowalski.

"Almost there, almost there, got it!" Kowalski сказал(-а) as he reached for the grate and opened it. After pulling himself into the ductwork, he reached for Rico's flippers to pull up the others.

And just in time. Just as Private closed the grate behind him, the door to the recording room opened. "What's going on in"—the producer suddenly paused, surprised to find the room empty—"here?" He shut the door and then began to walk around the perimeter of the room to Подтвердить it was indeed empty. "Huh," he сказал(-а) as he made it back to the door, "they must have gone on a coffee break или something. Чтение through an eleven-minute episode's script is apparently еще energy-depleting than I thought."

He was about to exit the room when a small object on the floor caught his attention. He walked over to the container and picked it up. "Dr. Refresh's Breath Mist," he said, Чтение the label. "Experimental formula—not for public issue." He sniffed the nozzle and then sprayed two shots into his mouth. "Mmm, minty." He then pocketed the container and left the room.

♦ ♦ ♦

Private sneezed. "Ugh. It's so dusty in here." He stopped for a moment and then sneezed again.

"Don't quit now, Private," Kowalski said. "We're almost to the roof. There we will face a danger far bigger than allergens and dust mites in the form of a Фан that could easily slice us and dice us like so many as-seen-on-TV кухня accessories."

"What!"

"We're almost to the roof."

When they arrived at the rooftop air handler, the penguins—especially Private—were relieved to find that the spinning blades of death contained within it were still. Through the principle of extreme squash and stretch, the four squeezed themselves through the damper and then emerged on вверх of the building.

Private took a deep breath. "Ah, sweet clean air."

"Well, we made it," Skipper said. "Now what?"

"Well," Kowalski said, "since the Болталка chemical experimentation option is out, I suppose I could try building a laser to blast us back into human form. But I'll need parts."

Skipper stroked his beak. "Hmm. The word 'blast' concerns me, but the rest seems promising. Change it to 'zap' and I think we've got ourselves a plan."

A thought then came to Private. "Hey, Kowalski, wouldn't it be easier and, with all due respect, less risky to instead figure out what actually caused us to turn into penguins and then do the opposite of that? Ты know, rather than build new, untested things that 'blast' или 'zap' или whatever Ты want to call it?"

"Less risky, yes," Kowalski replied. "But easier? Well, I don't know where to even begin thinking about how we ended up this way. But I will promise Ты this: if I can figure out what caused the species change before I get my laser built, I will try to work out a better solution."

Private nodded.

"But for now," Kowalski said, "our Далее stop is the hardware store."

♦ ♦ ♦

"Are Ты sure this helps us blend in, Skipper?" Private asked. "We look like the type of person that most people should пересекать, крест the улица, уличный to avoid."

To avoid detection as they made their way down the busy streets of Burbank, the penguins had swiped a hat, a trench coat, and a pair of boots from a now–temporarily unconscious man sitting at a bus stop bench. He wouldn't be making his 11:20 connection.

"Then all the better," Skipper сказал(-а) as he stood on вверх of Private's shoulders underneath the coat. He and Rico formed the majority of the torso while Kowalski acted as the head of the faux human. Private, once again, got stuck on the bottom.

As the four continued to walk down the sidewalk, a car traveling down the улица, уличный came to a stop at a red signal. The loud Музыка playing inside became a bit louder as the window on the vehicle's passenger side then partially opened, just enough to allow the twentysomething male passenger to toss several pieces of garbage out onto the sidewalk.

"Hey!" Kowalski yelled, but he was in little position to do much else.

"Hey, eyes and earholes, what's going on up there?" Skipper asked.

"Oh, just some punk tossing garbage from a car. Stupid litterbug." As the car pulled away, Kowalski glanced over at the trash the passenger had thrown: a Big Mac box, a crushed-up cigarette pack, some soiled plastic utensils, and a small green object. "Hmm," he said. "Guys, let's Переместить about twenty feet forward."

Private carried the foursome until they were right over where the green object had landed. "Private," Kowalski said, "reach down and pick up that green container, would you, please?"

Private reached down and picked up the object carefully so as not to drop his Друзья in the process. He shook it, but it was empty. "It's just an empty bottle of breath spray," he said. "At least that's what I think it is, as I can't really make out the words."

"That's what I thought it was," Kowalski said. "Why do I feel that it means something?"

Skipper chuckled. "Breath spray? It means something? How hard did Ты hit your head back at the studio?"

"Well, it just does, Skipper! I have a gut feeling that it's somehow linked to our predicament. Aren't Ты always telling us how we should listen to our gut?"

Skipper sighed. "I'm sorry, Kowalski. You're right. If breath spray means something to Ты then breath spray means something to me. Let's all take a moment to try to figure this out."

Private moved the creepy trench пальто fellow down a nearby alley, where the penguins jumped out of their disguise and assembled behind an overfilled Dumpster.

Skipper looked over at Rico and shook his head. "Was that really necessary, man?"

"Well," Private said, "at least he waited until we got the trench пальто off."

Rico grunted as he pointed toward the rotting refuse in front of them, but his Друзья weren't buying it as the Источник of the sudden odor.

"So, breath spray," Kowalski сказал(-а) as he took the empty bottle from Private. "Who has a theory?"

"Hmm," Skipper said. "Maybe the government, in a desperate effort to finally control entitlement spending, secretly tainted all breath spray sold in the United States with a chemical that turns humans into penguins."

"OK, who has a theory that isn't a conspiracy theory?"

Private massaged his forehead. "Well . . ."

Suddenly, Rico slapped Kowalski on the side of his neck. "So, you've got a theory, Rico?"

Rico shook his head. "Buzz, buzz—splat," he said, his flipper gestures reenacting having just killed a fly that had landed on Kowalski.

"Oh. Well, thanks, Rico." A moment passed and then Kowalski threw a triumphant flipper into the air. "Sweet calculus! I know how it happened!"

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Private cheered. "Bless you, Kowalski!"

Kowalski smiled. "Thank you, thank you, but it's all in a day's work for a genius like me." He pulled his whiteboard and marker out from wherever he had stashed them during the flight from the studio and started drawing as he began his explanation. "The first thing that must be сказал(-а) is that what happened to us was not my fault. No reckless chemistry, no laser malfunctions, no pressings of the wrong buttons. The blame is entirely Rico's."

"Eh? Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" Rico mumbled, shaking a flipper at Kowalski.

"Sorry, Rico, but it's true." Kowalski held up his whiteboard and pointed the tip of his marker at a quick doodle of a man being lifted up by another man. "You see, Rico, back when we were human, Private lifted Ты up so Ты could reach a fly that had landed on a smoke detector on the ceiling. Ты were trying to kill the fly with your breath spray after it had annoyed Ты in the recording room."

"Ah, I remember that now," Private said. "But, um, Kowalski, weren't Ты and Skipper helping to stabilize us? If something happened because of that, aren't Ты a little to blame, too?"

"Quiet, genius speaking." Kowalski then drew the breath spray bottle in the hand of the man being lifted up and some mist being sprayed out onto the smoke detector. "The smoke detector in the recording room is a battery-powered ionization smoke detector, which contains a trace amount of the radioisotope americium-241. Something in the breath spray must have reacted with the americium, with the result being the reassignment of our molecules to those of our fictional friends."

"But why our пингвин characters?" Skipper asked. "Why didn't we turn into frogs или leprechauns or"—he shuddered—"hippies?"

"Ah," Kowalski continued, "that's because Rico was holding a copy of 'You выдра, оттер Know Better' in his armpit and we were all in contact with him. The proximity of the script, combined with our professional relationship to our characters, caused us to become one with them."

Skipper nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. And Ты can prove all this . . . how?"

"Well, I, uh . . ." Kowalski put his whiteboard and marker down and began to fumble behind his back with his flippers. "Oh, where is it? Where is it? I'm Kowalski, I should be able to find my own—Ah, here it is." His appendages emerged from behind his back with his trusty abacus in flipper. He slid a few of its beads around and then smiled confidently. "The abacus says it is so!"

Skipper shook his head. "Not good enough."

Kowalski tossed his abacus aside. "Then, um . . . cartoon physics?"

"Works for me!" Skipper placed a flipper on Kowalski's back. "So, Kowalski Nye the Science Guy, how do we get ourselves back to being mammals again, which is something I never thought I'd hear myself say?"

"Simple," Kowalski said. "All we need to do is get our flippers on a bottle of breath spray and then huddle together while one of us—and by that I mean either Rico, since he caused all this, или Private, since he's the only test пингвин we have left after the loss of Manfredi, God rest his soul—sprays it at another ionization smoke detector. That same пингвин will also have to hold a photograph of the four of us in human form underneath his flipper, just as the script was held in the studio."

"That's all?" Skipper said. "Breath spray, a smoke detector, and a photograph? That sounds too simple to be one of our plans. This'll be a piece of cake."

"Well," Private said, "the plan certainly sounds safer than firing some sort of beam at ourselves, even if just a little. But where are we going to get a фото of the four of us together? I have one at home, but I'd scare my wife to death if I went back there looking like I do. Though my kids would probably find me soft and cuddly and might never allow me to leave again."

"Have no fear, Private," Kowalski said. "I've got it all figured out. If we head over to the local Target store, not only will we be able to procure our needed breath spray and smoke detector, but I can use a floor-model computer to download a фото of ourselves from the Internet and then have it printed at the фото center."

"Ooh, maybe we can have some mugs made, too," Skipper said. "Imagine, our mugs on a mug. And maybe some keychains!"

Kowalski shook his head. "Let's just focus on the essentials, Skipper."

Skipper sighed. "Fine. But we've got to at least get an 8×10."

♦ ♦ ♦

It was less than a two-mile walk to Target.

"All right," Kowalski сказал(-а) as the four entered the store, once again inside the trench пальто man, "let's head over to the electronics department first. After I download the photo, we can have it printed up while we gather the other two items."

With that, the penguins proceeded to the electronics department and quickly located the aisle where some laptop computers were on display. Kowalski was about to stick his flippers through the пальто to type on one of them when a Target employee came over. "Welcome to Target," she said. "Anything I can help Ты with?"

Kowalski lowered his head so the brim of the faux human's hat would hide his пингвин form from showing. He shook the hat to indicate that her assistance was not needed.

"Well, I'll be around here if anything changes." She was about to walk away when her curiosity about what the man was wearing got to her. "Um, aren't Ты hot, sir? It's like 71° out today and sunny."

Being without their Speak & Spell–type computing device, the penguins had no way of responding to the employee's Вопрос in any way that she would be able to understand. Instead, the four just remained silent and still until she gave up and began to walk away.

The young lady shook her head. "Why do the weird ones always come to my department?"

Once the aisle was clear, Kowalski proceeded to use the computer to access the Internet as planned. Although being in пингвин form made it difficult to read English, he was able to understand enough to make it to a Penguins of Madagascar Фан website, where, after a minute's search, a фото of them as Tom, Jeff, James, and John was located. "Found one!" he said. "Hey, Rico, do Ты happen to have a flash drive in your scientifically perplexing stomach?"

Rico answered by regurgitating the requested device and passing it up to Kowalski. Kowalski then saved a copy of the фото to the flash drive, removed it, and then had Private carry the foursome over to the kiosk at the фото center.

After using the machine to Отправить an order for a single 8×10, the penguins headed toward the front of the store and obtained a bottle of breath spray from the impulse items near each register. On the lowest shelf, something else also caught Private's eye. "Ooh, облако Cakes!" he said, looking at the Little Debbie product as his mouth watered. "They're not as good as арахис масло, сливочное масло Winkies, but I could still go for one right now. Can we get a box, please?"

"Private," Skipper said, "now you're getting a bit too into your character. Please don't make me have to get too into mine by having to slap you."

"Right, sir."

The four then headed to the Главная improvement section to pick out a smoke detector.

"Let's see," Kowalski сказал(-а) once the penguins had selected a model that included a nine-volt battery, "it's $12.49 for the smoke detector, $2.99 for the breath spray, and $2.89 for the 8×10, plus tax. Rico, check our finances, please."

Rico opened his beak and proceeded to regurgitate a one-dollar bill and $2.56 in change. He reported the total through a grunt.

"That's еще than a little short," Skipper said. "Are Ты sure, Rico?"

Rico grunted in the affirmative.

Skipper sighed. "Great. Now we're going to have to apply the five-finger discount. Or, дана our current condition, the eight-flipper discount."

"You mean stealing?" Private asked.

"I'm afraid so," Skipper replied. "But don't fret over it too much. When we get back to human form, I'll mail the store the difference, and we'll all help an old lady или two across the street. That should offset any bad karma, and it might even give us a slight credit on the Далее time."

The penguins then left the aisle, with the trench пальто man carrying the breath spray in his right hand and the smoke detector in his left.

After walking around the store for a while to kill time, it was nearing the time that the 8×10 would be ready. Before heading over to the фото center, Private moved the trench пальто man Далее to a display of Doritos so that the items to be lifted could be slipped into the pockets of the пальто without drawing the attention of store security. The penguins then went to pick up the photograph.

After paying the cashier at the фото center, Kowalski felt a hand tap him where the shoulder of the trench пальто man would have been if he were real. "Excuse me, buddy," a man сказал(-а) from behind in a way that was both calm and authoritative.

Kowalski asked Private to turn the disguise around so that he could see whoever had tapped him. There stood a man who on first glance might have been mistaken for a cop if it weren't for the Target logo on the patches on his sleeves.

"I'm Sean Hudson with Target's loss prevention team," the man сказал(-а) as Kowalski again used the brim of the hat to hide himself. "Is there anything in your pocket that Ты would like to tell me about?" Another man wearing the same style uniform then appeared from what seemed like nowhere.

Despite their best efforts, the penguins had been caught shoplifting.

"Skipper," Kowalski whispered, "what do I do?"

"You do nothing," Skipper replied. "This is a job for Rico."

Rico immediately knew what to do. Suddenly, a smoke bomb came flying out the middle of the trench coat, giving the penguins cover behind a smoke screen.

"To the emergency exit!" Skipper yelled.

Sean and his colleague ran into the smoke to try to grab the shoplifter, but he had already disappeared. When all the smoke had cleared about thirty секунды later, the only sign that the man had been there was the empty trench coat, hat, and boots that the thief had left behind.

♦ ♦ ♦

Following the excitement, the penguins regrouped in the nearby parking lot of a furniture store that had long gone out of business.

"That was a close one," Private сказал(-а) after catching his breath. "We still have our three items, right?"

"I've got the photo," Kowalski said, pulling it out from behind his back.

"And I grabbed the breath spray and smoke detector before Rico's smoke bomb even hit the floor," Skipper said. "We're good."

Skipper handed the objects to Kowalski, who proceeded to take them out of their packages. He inserted the included battery into the smoke detector and pressed the test button; the sharp beep confirmed that it was in good working order. "Well," he said, "it's science time. Private, Rico—who wants to do this?"

"Not it!" the young пингвин сказал(-а) almost immediately.

Kowalski chuckled and then handed the smoke detector and breath spray to Rico.

Skipper cleared his throat. "Well, boys," he said, "this is it. I know I've never been one for sappy speeches, but I think I can make an exception right now. Although we've been on thousands of missions together—or at least enough to fill 149 episodes at present—it feels like this is also our team's very first. Heaven only knows what our fate will be mere moments from now, but if it has been decided that we are to meet our maker—and by that I mean God, not Eric and me—at least we will be slipping the bonds of Earth as brothers. It has been an honor to command this unit these past few hours."

Skipper then raised his flipper in a salute, which his subordinates returned. After the others made a few remarks of their own and exchanged potential goodbyes, Kowalski tucked the 8×10 under Rico's left flipper.

"All right," Kowalski said, "here we go. Everyone put your flippers on Rico." He waited a moment for the others to make contact with Rico and then continued. "Now, Rico, on the count of three, spray the breath spray onto the smoke detector." He took a deep breath. "One . . . two—"

Private suddenly pulled away. "Wait," he said. "I just have one Вопрос before we do this. We're all going to be dressed when we turn back into humans, right? Because if we aren't, it will be еще embarrassing than that time I molted and Остаться в живых my cute factor."

"Never fear, Private," Kowalski replied. "Our clothes weren't left lying on the floor in the studio when we turned into penguins, so they won't be missing when we return to our proper selves."

"Thank goodness," Private said, making contact with Rico once again. "OK. Carry on."

Kowalski nodded. "All right, Rico. One . . . two . . . three!"

Nothing happened.

"Try it again, Rico," Kowalski said.

Rico gave the device a секунда spray. Nothing. A third. Still nothing. A fourth. A fifth. He then pulled the cover off and sprayed a sixth shot directly onto the ionization chamber, but there was not so much as the faintest sound или the slightest indication of a chemical reaction.

Angry, Rico let out a yell and then chucked the smoke detector a good thirty yards until it came crashing down upon the asphalt.

"Rico!" Private shouted, his eyes and beak wide.

"Kowalski, analysis," Skipper said.

"Well, it's possible that the reaction we induced was so great that instead of returning us to Homo sapiens, it stopped the passage of time around us, much like my chronal curbulator. Er, stopwatch."

Skipper rolled his eyes.

Kowalski sighed. "You're right. It just plain didn't work." He then gazed up into the sky. "Oh, Professor Einstein, I have failed you—again." A tear или two trickled down his face.

Private placed a flipper on Kowalski's back. "Oh, forget about Einstein," he сказал(-а) as he patted the scientist reassuringly. "Even if all of them have not worked quite as well as Ты intended, he could never have even conceived of some of the things you've invented. You're still a hero to me, and you're still our best hope at getting out of this mess."

"Thanks, Private."

A few moments later, Kowalski pulled out his whiteboard and began constructing equations and formulas to try to figure out what went wrong. There were so many numbers and letters involved that the math would have appeared Greek to anyone else—and some of it was.

Sadly, however, after about twenty minutes, it became clear that the jumble of 1s and 2s intertwined with Xs and Ys and deltas and omegas wasn't going to yield an answer. Kowalski sighed as he realized all he was basically doing now was throwing Болталка symbols in Болталка places and hoping for the best.

"Is there truly no way out of this?" he wondered aloud, wiping another set of failed equations away with a flipper. "Everything made perfect sense before. An ionization smoke detector powered by a nine-volt battery. Americium-241. Breath spray. The script. Our relationship to our characters. Our contact with Rico. Cartoon physics. I've taken everything into account."

Suddenly, Rico gasped as he remembered something that had been left out. Through a series of mumbles and grunts that could only be understood by his friends, he reminded them that the breath spray he had had at the studio was of an experimental type not available to the public, its ingredients unknown.

Kowalski quickly scribbled down an equation that took this new variable into account. He double-checked his work and then smiled. "Archimedes's beard, it works!"

Skipper groaned and threw his flippers up. "Rico! Where was that tip earlier when it could have saved us some trouble? Now we're going to have to make our way back into the studio and find that breath spray before someone calls Officer Y или Z from animal control."

"Actually," Private said, "I already know exactly where it is. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but soon after closing the grate in the ductwork in the recording room, I remember seeing the producer pick it up and put it in his pocket. He even tried it first."

Rico made a disgusted face. "Eww."

"Well, that complicates matters," Kowalski said.

"Not necessarily," Skipper replied. "Kowalski, what would Ты put our lovely Mr. Producer at? Five ten? Five eleven? That's probably around the same height as that guy at the bus stop."

Private gasped. "Skipper! Surely Ты can't be considering knocking out our own producer!"

"Well, do Ты have a better option? We need that breath spray, Private. Desperate times call for desperate measures." He paused for a moment. "Besides, he parked in my spot last week."

Private hung his head and sighed. "We're all fired."

♦ ♦ ♦

The producer always took his lunch at 1:00 p.m. sharp. Being Wednesday, it was his день to head over to the local Subway Магазин to try one of their five-dollar footlongs. It was a routine he never broke.

Until today. Although it was еще broken for him than by him.

"This is so wrong," Private said. Rico had just tripped the producer in the parking lot with the line from his grapple gun.

Skipper gave the man a quick flipper to the neck. "Relax, Private," he said, the producer now out cold. "He'll be fine. Ты know, in twenty to forty minutes. Six hours tops."

Kowalski reached into one of the producer's pockets and pulled out a small clump of lint. He placed it back and then reached a flipper into the man's other pocket, pulling out the bottle of breath spray they were after. "Got it!" he said. He gave the bottle a quick Kiss and then held it up triumphantly. "Oh, sweet human-restoring fluid, I Любовь Ты еще than a Higgs boson!"

"Well," Private said, "even though I wish we had used a different approach, at least we got it. But we're still without a smoke detector."

"Well," Kowalski said, "since we're back at the studio, we might as well Храбрая сердцем the air handler and go back into the recording room to use the original one. Besides, it will probably be better for us to be inside the building when we return to human form anyway because we will not be suspected of knocking out the producer once he is found или comes to."

Skipper patted Kowalski on the back. "Hey, great alibi, Kowalski. I've trained Ты well."

"Thank you, sir."

And with that, the penguins left the producer behind and headed for the roof.

♦ ♦ ♦

"Well, this is déjà vu," Private сказал(-а) as he stood on a chair in the recording room, forming the bottommost rung of a пингвин ladder.

"I can't see how, Private," Skipper said. "The other two times Kowalski was on top, and now Rico is. This is completely different."

As Private sighed, Kowalski looked up as best he could at the пингвин he was supporting. "Ready up there, Rico?" he asked.

Rico nodded. "Uh-huh!" He was already holding the breath spray over the smoke detector, and the фото was in place.

"Good," Kowalski said. "Now even though I am the only one in actual contact with Rico, we should still be all right since we are Актёрское искусство like a chain. Any final concerns?"

"Men," Skipper said, "the words I сказал(-а) earlier still apply, so I won't repeat them. Let's do this."

With that, Kowalski began the countdown. "On three, Rico, Ты know what to do. One . . . two . . . three!"

There was a small sizzle and then a louder thud as the four were thrown to the floor. A peppermint aroma filled the air as four men awoke heaped on вверх of each other.

Skipper—or rather, Tom—rolled off the others and then opened his eyes. He smiled and then felt his face to Подтвердить it. "Yes!" he сказал(-а) as he sprang to his feet, his hand having made contact with his nose. "We're back! Ha-ha!" He reached down and took Jeff by the hand, helping him up. "Jeff, Ты wonderful, wonderful man!"

Jeff chuckled. "Just playing my small part. The real credit for our success should go to Ты for suggesting that we embrace our characters to the fullest."

John sat up. "I can speak again!" he said. He glanced down at his stomach and patted it. "Ah, what a relief. It feels pretty good to no longer be carrying around all that extra weight of bombs, weapons, and everything else the writers crammed into me."

James, who was no doubt on the bottom of the pile, was the last to get up from the floor. "We're alive!" he said. He took a step toward the others and forced them all into a group hug.

After a few еще moments of celebration, Tom cleared his throat. "Gentlemen," he said, "I'd like to just say a few final words about our experiences today. I am proud of each and every one of Ты for the role that Ты played in resolving our most unlikely predicament, but I am even еще proud of all of us working together as a team to get the job done. We brought the spirit of our characters into an unscripted situation and performed our roles with the type of flawless talent worthy of nothing short of an Emmy. Though they surely would have complicated matters and would have had to have been knocked out at some point, it's a shame that the good folks at the Academy of Телевидение Arts & Sciences could not have witnessed us in action. But regardless, our experiences today have forged a bond that can never be broken, not only between us as men, but between us and our feathered friends, even long after we part with them professionally."

"Hear, hear!" James agreed.

"So before I relieve Ты of your duties," Tom continued, now speaking in the voice of Skipper, "there is only one thing left that we have to do." He smiled and then held up his right hand. "Up high, boys."

No sooner had the men's hands met in a high-five than the four heard the sound of a clearing throat across the room. They stopped the celebration abruptly when the producer walked up to them.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said. He looked pretty good for having been tripped and knocked out by some of his own cast earlier, but his tone still had an air of irritability about it. "What are Ты guys talking about? What are Ты guys doing?"

As the others stood there with worried expressions on their faces, Tom simply turned to the producer and slowly moved his hands in front of him. "You didn't see anything."

♦ ♦ ♦

Penguin HQ
Manhattan, New York

Skipper climbed out of his bunk as a new день began at the Central Park Zoo. It was an час before sunrise—or, as he called it, sleeping in. "Rise and shine, boys," he сказал(-а) to the others as he stretched his flippers. "Time to find out what the Concrete Jungle will throw at us today."

Private turned his head toward Skipper from his bunk. "Morning, Skipper. Sleep well?"

Skipper chuckled. "It's funny Ты should ask. I slept fine, but I had the strangest dream. We were all in it, but these strange men were trapped inside our bodies. They all seemed to think it was their job to speak for us in some fictional world, a profession they called voice acting."

"Wow," Private said, "that is strange."

Just then, Rico set his stuffed toy aside and began to climb down from his bunk. After his feet hit the floor, Rico cupped a flipper in front of his beak and exhaled a few breaths of air into it.

Skipper's eyes widened and his beak dropped as he observed Rico regurgitate a breath spray bottle and then spray two shots into his beak. "Oh, Ты gotta be kidding me!"


[Story last revised May 31, 2013.]
posted by Kowalski1321
The reason why I'm Письмо these again is because, the chapters were too far apart for anyone to read them and I'm now Письмо them different than last time. And yes I know that that this is the same concept as high moltage but just to make it clear I Опубликовать my old ones before High Moltage was even annouced. I hope Ты enjoy.

----Chapter 1 Introduction----

It was normal sunny Sunday morning at the Central Park zoo, and Kowalski had something important to do. Kowalski: " All right, everyone get out." Skipper: "Whoa! Hold on there. Before Ты can kick people out of their own house's, you've got...
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Chapter 2: A Mistaken Chosen One

Once again, Private wrote down everything about the dream again. Who is this close person that will be mistakenly picked as the chosen one? he thought. He hid it under his подушка and went to sleep again.

Later in the morning, Messenger Xai Lang arrived. "Mail for Skipper."he said. Xai Lang dropped the scroll and then flew away. Then, Skipper got it. He opened it and read to see a happy news.

Dear Skipper,

Congratulations! Ты are chosen to be the chosen one according to your ascendants. Ты will fight, die and save the world. Leave your city tomorrow. Once again,...
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posted by Skiparah
I eventually found out why they called the ship 'The Green Bucket'. After a few days I was as sick as a dog. What's worse I had to stay down in the ships' hold where no one on board could see me. After a few days spent in a rocking лодка I either got used to it или just simply ran out of stuff to barf up. Either way, I felt a bit better after while. Then one unexpecting morning some wise crack came down into the hold to my level. Let me just say he wasn't standing up down there too much. Every time he'd wake up I'd хлопать, привкус him into Далее tuesday. Finally I had to start hitting the other eye because...
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posted by Skiparah
I saw the sun flash off of the нож and into my eyes. I clamped my eyes shut and waiting for my life to end. Nothing happened. I opened my eyes to find Hans staring at me with resentment in his eyes. "What's the matter Hans? You'd rather turn me in?" I scoffed. It's not like I wanted to get killed by this demented dane, but I was a bit confused at him. He sat up, "Skipper..I can't kill you..you're the only friend still alive." he admitted with a sob I knew was fake. I narrowed my eyes in paranoid suspicion.
"Hans, let me get this straight. Ты set me up as though I had actually KILLED one of...
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The tallest and the smartest пингвин locked himself in his lab again. Not always is he the sharpest нож in the drawer. He tried drilling the door but last time he did this, he was stupid enough to replace the door with one of the hardest material know to man.

“Dang it!” Kowalski сказал(-а) drilling the door. It didn't even make a dent in the door. “Why did I even use this material??”

“Alright time for another theory.” Kowalski picked up one of Rico's огонь Оружие that he was making modifications to and adding еще tools to use. “Fire in the hole!” Kowalski yelled blasting the door....
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Skipper, the Храбрая сердцем fierce leader, сказал(-а) he would never cry. Obviously, he hadn't had this happen yet. On the ground infront of him was the craziest пингвин of them all Rico. His fallen comrad was to injured to be fixed.

"Rico!" Skipper сказал(-а) shaking the wounded penguin. "Don't Ты dare die on me! Be strong!"

Rico's eyes looked like they were glued shut. They wouldn't open no matter what. Blood from where the lazer had hit him. "Rico please!"

"Well Peng-you-in." The phychotic Dr.Blowhole smirked, moving Далее to the very depressed penguin. "Looks like your team is one short. Once again I have become...
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posted by peacebaby7
    The penguins were now making their way through the streets of New York. Skipper was on point, signaling for his men to go when the time was right. So far so good. Not a soul has seen them yet…well…except for a ротвейлер that an unfortunate dog-walker had to deal with as it barked for what seemed like forever.

    Skipper made another signal for the other three to pass. Kowalski constantly stumbled over his feet, considering he didn’t remember any of the training he’d had. But Private, being as concerned as expected from the young cadet, was...
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posted by Skiparah
Not many guys think about what it would be like to be utterly bored. Some don't even know the feeling. I recall a few dull momments in my chickhood, but the boredom I was under was ridiculas. I'd undergone torture in the battle station, but I was sure that, that night in that cell had to be the worst torture yet. It's bad enough to have to sleep on the cold, wet floor with nothing to do, no one to talk to, and only the rats to keep Ты company, but when the gaurd starts singing..sweet mother macarthur I think that's got to be well exceding agony. He wasn't a talented singer either. He was awful....
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posted by SuperRico
The Lemurs' conversation 

Julien: Maurice, I wanna льстец, смузи so gimme!

Maurice: Coming right up. *starts blender*

Ten секунды later…

Julien: Maurice! Where is my smoothie! What part of gimme do Ты not understand?! Gim или Me!

Maurice: Ты asked ten секунды ago. It takes up to two минуты to make a smoothie.

Julien: Then do it as quickly as Ты can!

Maurice: *puts банан in the blender* Okay, your majesty.

Mort: Can I help?

Maurice: Just stay away from Julien's feet.

Mort: I'll try! *runs over and hugs the Julien's feet* Oops! 

Julien: Maurice! Get him off me!

Maurice: I thought Ты wanted a smoothie....
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posted by Skiparah
I remember that still moment when near father and son gazed into each other's eyes. Leeland's gray eyes were filled with so many emotions I could hardly understand; yet I had quite a few feelings milling around inside of me as well. Leeland seemed as though he could almost say, 'What the heck..' Then he really DID say it. His voice trailed off and his beak сказал(-а) something inaudible. I looked down at my blood-stained feathers. Then it hit me. This looked perfectly clear that I'd killed the general. I knew full well that I hadn't, but Leeland and his armed companions didn't know so. I didn't have...
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Still Skipper's View

"Yes!" the man cried. "I knew it! Time is frozen!"
I tell by tone on voice that the man was Kowalski.
"Hey, how did I get all the way up here?" the man (Kowalski) asked himself. 
He pulled up his new hand and looked at it. 
"Ahhh!! Fingers!" he screamed.
"Told ya it wasn't the Stopwatch," Johnson said, who had got out of a bunk.
"And that is why Ты shouldn't disobey my orders," I joked. 
By now, we were all out of our hiding spaces. 
"Stop making all those weird noises, Skipper and Johnson," Kowalski said. "I can't understand a word Ты two are saying!"
"Of course!" Ivy said....
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posted by Skiparah
I looked around the clearing. My eyes falling on a black and white form beside me. He was soaked in blood. I put a flipper on the penguin's chest. He was dead as doornail. I couldn't have been wrong. I'd kissed death before. I knew death when it was present in a body. And it was in this penguin's body. I shivered. Who had killed him? Then it hit me like a tidal wave. Where was Hans? Had he been shot too? I looked around. No one was there. I got to my feet and walked a distance. If Hans had been shot surely he wouldn't have gotton this far. Then another thought entered my mind. I froze. Was...
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posted by peacebaby7
Alex & Maurice...

Alex & Maurice raced through the jungle, following the sound of the weeping. The sound grew slightly louder the closer they got. They finally stopped when they realized that they heard the weeping coming from behind them. "Alex! How could we have missed him? Mort! Where are you?!" Maurice сказал(-а) as they turned around & began walking in the other direction. "I am here!" They heard Mort cry, but they still did not see him. "Mort! Where are you!? We still can't see you!" Maurice yelled. "I am in this hole & I can't get out!"

Alex & Maurice found where Mort was....
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posted by queenpalm
I did not make this up. It is in a book I bought.

To play: fill in the spaces with the word it tells Ты to, then use those same words to fill in the story in the same order.

Plural noun ________
Adjective __________
Part of the body______
Adjective ___________
Noun ______________
Adjective ___________
Noun ______________
Adjective ___________
Adjective ___________
Plural noun__________
Adjective ___________
Noun ______________
Adjective ___________
Plural noun__________
Plural noun__________

Now to start the story:

Meet the Penguins

Skipper, Kowalski, Private, and Rico may look like four cuddly ________- but ...
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posted by peacebaby7
Antarctica

Skipper: "I don't know what you'r--"

Private: *--brings fist around & wallops Skipper*

Skipper: *blocks Далее punch* "What are Ты doing!? Explain yourself!"

Private: *starts fight*

*Skipper & Private begin fighting*

Skipper: *pins Private* "Explain yourself!!!"

Private: "You were there! It's all your fault!"

Skipper: "I was where!? Private! I still don't know what you're talking about!"

Private: "You were there! When my mother died! If Ты hadn't been there she'd still be alive!"

Skipper: "Look, kid! I don't know what you're talking about! I wasn't even conscious when my parents died!"...
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posted by peacebaby7
Antarctica

The Flock's Return

*hiding in an old abandoned home, the trio of penguins watch the penguins coming into the living grounds*

*all whispering*

Kowalski: "Hey! There's my parents! And...They're..."

Skipper: *looks* "Oh. I'm sorry, amigo."

*they see Kowalski's parents holding another hatchling*

Rico: "Hey! Therine!" (Translation: "Hey! There's mine!") *starts to go to them, but stops when Lithia & Jordan start laughing*

Kowalski: "I'm sorry, Rico. I know how Ты feel."

Skipper: "Hey! Don't look so upset! There's gotta be another explanation for this...I'm sure they still mis--"

Kowalski:...
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posted by peacebaby7
Antarctica

The Feeding Grounds...

Private: *sits isolated from the group, looking at the water, thinking*

I can't believe this happened. I Остаться в живых my Dad before I even knew him...Now my Mom is gone too. All I have left is Uncle Nigel. And he's gone most of the time. I wonder what happened to her--WAIT! I don't even want to know. Why? Why did Ты have to go. Why couldn't Ты have stayed. I wish Ты were here. Oh, how I wish Ты were here....

Steve: "Hey, Private. Ты feel like playing?"

Private: "Sorry guys. I'm just not in the mood right now. Maybe later."

Jake: "Hey, sorry about your mom, dude. She...
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posted by peacebaby7
Antarctica

2 Days Before Migration...


*a 15 год old Rico was waddling along when he heard something...*

KABOOM!

Rico: "Whoa! What was that?!" *curious, he followed where the sound came from*

KABOOM! KABOOM!

Rico: *kept going & stopped suddenly when he saw lights exploding in the sky* "Whoa...Cool..." *he just kept watching when he saw large creatures sending these exploding lights into the sky* "Hey, my mom told me about these beings, they're humans!" *he went back to his Главная as fast as he could go*

Rico: "Mom! Dad! You'll never believe what I just saw! These exploding lights were in the sky!...
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Chase Scene: Take 1

Julien: "...Ah! A thief!
...
Keep dancing!"

Maurice: "But there's no music!"

Julien: "I'll pretend I did not hear that!"

Julien: "Come back Ты Музыка hater!"

Skipper: "I don't hate music! I hate--"

*--trip*

Chase Scene: Take 2

Julien: "Come back Ты Музыка hater!"

Skipper: "I don't hate music! I hate noise!"

Julien: *causes Skipper to slip on bananas, causing him to drop a battery which he intercepts*

*Jumps to get another, misses, swings on a pole back around, and retrieves a секунда battery*

2 минуты later...

Skipper: "Ha, Остаться в живых him."

Julien: *swings in on snake...SMACK..."Oops. Sorry Skipper. Are Ты okay?"

Skipper: "I think I coughed up my spleen..."
posted by queenpalm
"Okay, the best route and time would be at 9:45, and through the series of air vents," Ivy explained. "We can drop down into Alice's office around 9:50, when she should be having her morning snack. If we can change the records in 10 minutes, we will be good, and can get out with 5 минуты to spare."
"Great idea, Ivy!" Skipper said. "Now that's what I call a brain!"
Kowalski scowled at Skipper's compliment to Ivy. I then looked at the clock and realized that it was already 9:42.
"Hey, let's go," I said. "If Ты want to follow Ivy's plan, we should get going."
"Yeah, Johnson's right," Ivy said....
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