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tab Once, when the moon still hung limply in the midnight sky and nary an animal dared to show itself to the brutality of winter, there lived a penguin on my head. He would sit, day after remarkable day, unmoving at the top of my curved cranium. He wouldn't speak, or even move for that matter, but I knew that he was my best friend and that he loved me; not. In fact, every time I flinched, the stupid Popsicle bird would slap me in the back of the head and bend down to peck my nose.
tab Anyway, late one night, when the moon was high in the sky and no light radiated in my small room, the daffy bird began to speak.
tab "I beg your pardon, but do you have change for a twenty?" He said in a husky baritone voice as I looked up, amazed. I was so taken-a-back that I toppled over and tried to wiggle the bird from my hair.
tab I soon grabbed hold of him and pinned his wings to his sides so he couldn't bird slap me, but the loopy flightless bird pecked me anyway. He wiggled one miniscule wing out from under my grasp and lifted the what looked to be a cell phone back to where his ear should have been.
tab "Cancel that order." He grumbled into the phone as he glared at me.
tab Once he hung up, he began to beat me with his lightning-fast wings.
tab "Do you mind!" He screeched as I dived under my bed for protection. "I was ordering a pizza!" He said as he began to preen.
tab "Y-y-you c-c-can sp-sp-speak!" I stuttered as I lifted the pillow to my face, using it as a barrier between my and the demonic baby penguin.
tab "Thank you Captain Durr." He said calmly as he waddled under the bed.
tab "Who the hell are you!" I cried as I jabbed at him with what seemed to be a piece of ten-year-old beef jerky stick left over from my unkempt older sister.
tab The daffy penguin bit a piece of it off and chewed. The stick crunched and broke apart under the massive jaws of the squirtish penguin.
tab "Well, if you must know," He said as he swallowed the fossilized jerky. "My name is Pobert Porpoise Precambrian Pelloquin Pingu III, but most people/birds call me Mr. Pingu for short, and I am a flying sea monkey." He said. "I'm a talking penguin you moron!" He exclaimed.
tab "Why are you here?" I asked, scared of the little beast.
tab "I was sleepy, your head looked nice, needed some food, here I am." He said.
tab "Why the hell did it have to be my head?!" I cried as I picked up the tiny bird by the beak.
tab The darkness soon gave way to early morning light as I plopped the little bird onto my old desk and started poking him in different spots with the eraser part of my mechanical pencil, looking for a speaker or something hidden under his down. He bit my finger and glared at me with his beady little eyes.
tab "Why does this always happen to me?" I said as I slumped back down to the ground.
To be continued...
- by Ryuhime Kurosu-sama |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 03/04/2010 |
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- Title: The Adventures of Mr. Pingu
- Artist: Ryuhime Kurosu-sama
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Description:
There once was a little penguin sitting on the top of my head.
Please comment and give me some ideas on how I can make it better. Your suggestions will be put into great consideration. - Date: 03/04/2010
- Tags: adventures pingu
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