Friends or Lunacorns
Nov. 22nd, 2015 01:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katleeptTitle: Friends or Lunacorns
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Penguins of Madagascar
Character/Pairing: Private, Skipper, Ensemble
Rating: G/K
Challenge/Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words Cry Me A River: Two Hours Late
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 668
Date Written: 22 November, 2015
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to DreamWorks, not the author, and are used without permission.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. He'd never been late before. He'd always obeyed his every command. He'd always striven hard to please him, but now, Skipper wouldn't even look at him. He'd heard him squawking at Kowalski before he'd come up. Evidently, the Scientist had been trying to take up for him, because whatever he had said had earned Skipper squawking at him that he didn't care if it was Private. It didn't matter if he was him. He was no longer a hatchling. He knew to obey orders, and as he hadn't been there this morning, he didn't deserve breakfast.
Private now stood utterly alone on top of their platform. People passed by overhead, but he no longer cared. The others had left him to stand by himself. They were off on another mission and hadn't even invited him to tag along with them. He sank down onto his hand quarters, feeling utterly alone and dejected, and jumped when something squeaked.
"Stupid Lunacorns!" Private squawked and angrily threw the plush into the water. It squeaked again several more times, but Private determinedly turned his back on it, just as Skipper and the others had turned away from him scant minutes before. "It was just one stupid, lousy marathon," he muttered. "I didn't mean to oversleep. And it's not like I've ever done it before."
A crowd was drawing around the penguins' display, but Private was too upset to notice. He had only been two hours late, but it was enough to ruin everything. His stomach rumbled, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that his friends had left him. "No penguin behind," he muttered sorrowfully, not hearing their entrance slide back open.
Rico and Kowalski were the first to begin to approach him, but one glower from Skipper stopped them both in their tracks. Private threw himself back down onto the ice. "No penguin behind, but you left me behind."
"Do you really think that, soldier?"
"Well, yeah, you all ran off on that mission."
"That mission was Operation Wake Private."
"But I am awake!" Private threw his flippers into the air as he whirled around to face the voice that kept talking to him. It was only when he almost came beak to beak with Skipper that he realized that he actually was talking to the older penguin.
"You are now," Skipper acknowledged, "but you were two hours late to breakfast, Private. That's a new record, and not a good one. It even beats Rico's record for being late after his weekend nights out with Dolly. And for what? For, as you said yourself, a lousy Lunacorns marathon!"
"It won't happen again!"
"It better not."
"But . . . But, Skipper, I'm still hungry . . . "
"Serves you right, Private. Rico, don't you barf up that fish."
Rico promptly swallowed the whole fish he had been about to deposit at Private's feet.
"It's okay," Private assured, waddling back and forth in one place and holding his flippers together. "I can be hungry as long as I've still got you guys."
"We'll never leave you, Private. No penguin gets left behind. Did you really think I'd go against our creed?"
"N-No."
"Oh, he's so cute!"
The penguins looked up as a human squealed. "Incoming," Kowalski squawked as fish began to rain down for the second time that morning. Private met the onslaught with an open beak, and even Skipper grinned. "Enjoy, men," he gave them an easy command to follow, "but be warned this means we'll have to work doubly hard today to keep in shape."
"Thas fine, Skipper," Private said around his second fish. "Long as I have yoo."
Skipper grinned and slapped his back so hard that he almost choked on his fish. "You'll always have us, Private, want us or not," he assured to which Private was just as quick to reassure, amid the flying fish, "I'll always want yoo." But he had learned his lesson: Friends would always be better, and more important, than Lunacorns.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Penguins of Madagascar
Character/Pairing: Private, Skipper, Ensemble
Rating: G/K
Challenge/Prompt:
1_million_words Cry Me A River: Two Hours LateWarning(s): None
Word Count: 668
Date Written: 22 November, 2015
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to DreamWorks, not the author, and are used without permission.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. He'd never been late before. He'd always obeyed his every command. He'd always striven hard to please him, but now, Skipper wouldn't even look at him. He'd heard him squawking at Kowalski before he'd come up. Evidently, the Scientist had been trying to take up for him, because whatever he had said had earned Skipper squawking at him that he didn't care if it was Private. It didn't matter if he was him. He was no longer a hatchling. He knew to obey orders, and as he hadn't been there this morning, he didn't deserve breakfast.
Private now stood utterly alone on top of their platform. People passed by overhead, but he no longer cared. The others had left him to stand by himself. They were off on another mission and hadn't even invited him to tag along with them. He sank down onto his hand quarters, feeling utterly alone and dejected, and jumped when something squeaked.
"Stupid Lunacorns!" Private squawked and angrily threw the plush into the water. It squeaked again several more times, but Private determinedly turned his back on it, just as Skipper and the others had turned away from him scant minutes before. "It was just one stupid, lousy marathon," he muttered. "I didn't mean to oversleep. And it's not like I've ever done it before."
A crowd was drawing around the penguins' display, but Private was too upset to notice. He had only been two hours late, but it was enough to ruin everything. His stomach rumbled, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that his friends had left him. "No penguin behind," he muttered sorrowfully, not hearing their entrance slide back open.
Rico and Kowalski were the first to begin to approach him, but one glower from Skipper stopped them both in their tracks. Private threw himself back down onto the ice. "No penguin behind, but you left me behind."
"Do you really think that, soldier?"
"Well, yeah, you all ran off on that mission."
"That mission was Operation Wake Private."
"But I am awake!" Private threw his flippers into the air as he whirled around to face the voice that kept talking to him. It was only when he almost came beak to beak with Skipper that he realized that he actually was talking to the older penguin.
"You are now," Skipper acknowledged, "but you were two hours late to breakfast, Private. That's a new record, and not a good one. It even beats Rico's record for being late after his weekend nights out with Dolly. And for what? For, as you said yourself, a lousy Lunacorns marathon!"
"It won't happen again!"
"It better not."
"But . . . But, Skipper, I'm still hungry . . . "
"Serves you right, Private. Rico, don't you barf up that fish."
Rico promptly swallowed the whole fish he had been about to deposit at Private's feet.
"It's okay," Private assured, waddling back and forth in one place and holding his flippers together. "I can be hungry as long as I've still got you guys."
"We'll never leave you, Private. No penguin gets left behind. Did you really think I'd go against our creed?"
"N-No."
"Oh, he's so cute!"
The penguins looked up as a human squealed. "Incoming," Kowalski squawked as fish began to rain down for the second time that morning. Private met the onslaught with an open beak, and even Skipper grinned. "Enjoy, men," he gave them an easy command to follow, "but be warned this means we'll have to work doubly hard today to keep in shape."
"Thas fine, Skipper," Private said around his second fish. "Long as I have yoo."
Skipper grinned and slapped his back so hard that he almost choked on his fish. "You'll always have us, Private, want us or not," he assured to which Private was just as quick to reassure, amid the flying fish, "I'll always want yoo." But he had learned his lesson: Friends would always be better, and more important, than Lunacorns.
The End
