Hello, it's NYC here. This being my first story posted here, I do hope you guys like it! Oh, and I got Kowalski here too.
Kowalski: I have to admit, you've done a great job with this one.
Yes, yes I did.
Kowalski: But did you really have to...
(clamps his beak) Just leave it to the readers to look through it.

I do not own the Penguins of Madagascar.

This is the first of my Shorties, titled "Fireflies", after my favourite song (by Owl City) and inspiration for this story.
Fireflies
By NYCskipper
Inspired by the song "Fireflies" by Owl City

I watched as Private flipped another page on the picture book.
"Ooh, fireflies!" he squealed, gazing at the pretty little lights printed on its pages. The sparkles sprinkled over them glittered under the glow of the incandescent light bulb hanging overhead.
"Yes, those are fireflies," I told him, "Part of the bug family of insects and one of the few insects in this world capable of bioluminescence."
"Kowalski, I don't think there is a need for that sort of knowledge for now," said Private, "I do wish I could see one of these little guys though..."
"I hate to disappoint you, Private," I started, "but that's kind of impossible."
"Why not?" Private asked, curious.
"Fireflies live well in clean, unpolluted habitats," I explained, "They are extremely sensitive to any changes in their environment. With such a hazy a place as New York, I don't think we have a chance of finding one here."
"But isn't Central Park full of trees?" Private objected, "They're sure to keep the air clean and fresh! There's got to be fireflies in there!"
"Private, I don't think our trees here are enough," I shook my head, "Compared to all the smoke and toxic gas our cars emit daily, our trees barely do anything to improve the air quality, even in the park. Finding fireflies in New York is just wishful thinking."
Private sighed, knowing that this was a battle he would never win. I suddenly had a bad feeling that I shouldn't have objected so strongly against him. I mean it may, just may, be possible for the trees in Central Park to purify the air enough for fireflies to reside comfortably. But I hadn't believed in that possibility. Still, I felt rather remorseful.
"Tell you what, Private," I said, "Maybe I will go on a little firefly hunt. After all, who can trust the orders of Mother Nature? She might even send a few fireflies tonight."
Private brightened up. "Really?"
"Uh... Yeah," I shrugged.
With a joyful cry, the young penguin wrapped his flippers around me.
"Thank you, Kowalski," he whispered.

With a butterfly net in one flipper and a glass jar in the other, I tiptoed through the bushes of Central Park, all the while feeling like an idiot. Why did I even consider that my theory could be correct? There was no way I could find a singly firefly in this polluted city. But Private was waiting for me to return with a jar containing at least one bioluminescent bug, and I didn't like the idea of disappointing him.
"Where are you hiding, little firefly?" I muttered, scouring the surrounding bushes. Not a single spot of light could be seen. I threw down my new in frustration.
"Gah! This is impossible," I complained, "This air is so polluted, not even all the trees of five Central Parks could clean it!"
Defeated, I sat down next to the bushes, staring at the pitch-black sky.
That's when it happened.
One of the street lamps in the park flickered, then buzzed out. This was followed by a series of other lamps all flickering out, throwing that section of Central Park into darkness.
"Curses," I swore, "It's a blackout! I should have taken along those night-vision goggles..."
Feeling around, I found my net and jar and tries to find my way back to the Zoo, but to no avail.
"I'm lost!" I realized, "This is bad..."
At that moment, a tiny flicker of yellow-green light lit up a patch of grass in front of me. Bending down for a closer look, I immediately recognized the source of this light.
It was a single, glowing firefly.
I stand corrected, I thought. I raised my net, ready to capture it, when another firefly blinked its own yellow-green light on and danced before my eyes.
I stood up and watched, transfixed, as the two fireflies were joined by tens, no, hundreds of tiny, blinking fireflies, all hovering in the air like the stars had decided to move into the bottom of the troposphere.
"I don't believe it!" I finally gasped in awe, "It is possible for fireflies to live in Central Park!"
Several fireflies flew into my jar and settled down inside. Seeing my chance, I immediately clapped a lid on top of it (with breathing holes, of course). Then, with the help of the fireflies' light, I slowly navigated my way back to the zoo.

Private sat, waiting, on the artificial island. I entered our habitat quietly, so as to not startle him.
"Hello," I greeted him, settling down next to him.
"Did you find any fireflies?" Apparently, he was getting a little impatient.
I showed him the jar.
Private made a little cry of surprise. "You actually did it, Kowalski!"
He lay down, watching as yellow-green lights danced around the glass jar, smiling with pure happiness. I smiled, too. Private's happiness is rather infectious.
"You know, now that you've seen real fireflies," I said, "would it be too much to release them into their natural habitat? They would like it better there."
Private hesitated.
"That's alright," he beamed, "As long as they are happy, I'm happy too!"
He carefully picked the jar up and gingerly lifted the lid. The fireflies flew out, doing a dainty little firefly ballet in the air. One flew onto Private's beak, making him giggle.
"Goodbye, fireflies," he whispered to it, gently brushing it off.
Silently, we sat on the island, watching as our fireflies slowly danced their way back into the fresh, clean air of Central Park.

THE END

Kowalski: That should earn you a decent number of readers, I hope.
Same.
Kowalski: Please review!