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Team Penguin (standard:humor, 818 words)
Author: TDKAdded: Oct 03 2003Views/Reads: 3108/1Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Cool sophisticated Penguins that decide to leave their Arctic home and travel the world.

TEAM PENGUIN Chapter 1                                By TDK 

Hi my name is Stuck. You know back in the day when penguins ruled the
Earth, we had a whale of a time, our home never melted, there were 
plenty more fish in the sea, and all very tasty. In fact we've been 
paying the price ever since you humans fell out of your trees, and 
decided to change things. That's why we decided to move north and see 
what all the fuss is about. 

“This looks like a nice place Stuck, what's it called?” said Beak.
4-1-5, this is it, “my flippers are kill'in me.” As we hopped up the 
path, I can remember the feeling I had in my stomach. I wasn't sure if 
it was asking or complaining? We had spoken to Trev on the Internet 
lots of times, he seem OK for a human, easy going, very friendly; which 
was fortunate as it had slipped my mind to tell him we were Penguins; 
or that we were coming to stay. Trev's face was a mixture of emotions 
when we met. Surprise, turning to confusion, and morphing into worry as 
we greeted him with an extended flipper. “We're your vacation buddies 
to Andorra?” I said. Whilst it was true, we had talked about skiing in 
the Pyrenees; the last thing Trev expected; was me and Beak to turn up 
unannounced, looking like Penguins. “But we're naturals!” I said. Trev 
was having none of it, and said we could stay for a few days until we 
could arrange a flight back, as he was leaving the very next morning. 
As we broke the ice over cocktails well into the evening, Trev relented 
and agreed to let us accompany him, on the proviso we kept the lowest 
of profiles. I suspected the journey might be no frills, but nothing we 
Pens have ever done could prepare us for economy. I remember my beak 
hitting the floor with a thud, as Trev's suitcase gave birth to us. 
“Tell me we're here, and your not declaring us at customs Trev?”  I 
said, as I hopped out and up onto the window ledge. “Wow!” I'd never 
seen a mountain of snow before. “How do we get up there?”  My beak 
dropped as Trev answered by pushing a lift pass into it. 

Cool, who's Dave Jones? I thought as the door to the Gondler swished
open the next morning. Slowly, they creaked and swayed their way to the 
top, as several phrases in various languages punctuated the awkward 
stares. They looked like sardines I thought, “Oi, mind the flippers!” 
You humans do well on concrete, but put you guys on the ice and your 
non-stop entertainment. When we could take no more laughter, we decided 
to hop into the Alpine Diner for sard's on toast, where we bumped into 
a group of ski instructors on one of their many breaks. (no pun 
intended, hehehe) So we swaped stories, and imparted our years of 
experience, when we discovered there was going to be an Ecco style 
challenge, on the piste, the very next day. So shaking them warmly by 
the flippers we set off to register, and found that a human wasn't 
optional, damn. We'll have to swallow our pride and collar Trev. Team 
Penguin was born, and we reeked of awesomeness, our nerves were soon 
replaced with gold fever, until we retired to bed swatting the tough 
but fair rules. 

The next morning complacency, and mixed laughter filled the air as we
approached the start line. Cheek! I don't think ‘Team Meat-head' had 
the foggiest that their costumes were going to be a hindrance, in this 
mother of all duels. The tasks included “Hide ‘n' Seek”, “S.O.S” and 
“Survival” as cheers encouraged our ruthlessness to succeed. “Team 
Pen-guino, Team Pen-guino.” We tucked several under our belts, when the 
weather took a turn for the worst, and visibility dropped to but a few 
metres. No problem for us Pens, but all the humans abandoned the 
mountain for tea and chocolate, in the diner that heaved into applause 
as we arrived. Respect was dew, and given, as we were greeted by one of 
the more tasty looking humans, who said: “ Ola, Team Pen-guino? 
Congrate, you 1st  classificat.” 

The penguin bosom heaved with honour as we lifted our gold. No more were
we second-class citizens, no more clumsy birds in over dressed 
tuxedo's, recognition, Penguins on top again! Sorry, little carried 
away there. 

It was drinks all round as we toasted our success in the Quo Vardis bar.
They showed out-takes of the days action, and we tucked into a 
selection of bar snacks, posed for pictures, and took every opportunity 
to hand out the penguin web-sit'e URL: 

I'm not sure who carried me back to my room, but it could take years for
them tail feathers to grow back. 

Taken from the forthcoming book “Team Penguin” 


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