Private ran and ran and ran, but the badgers were catching up. "Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" he cried out into the seemingly never-ending, terrifying, pitch-black darkness. Suddenly, the badgers were joined by Dr, Blowhole. Then Hans. Then Alice. Then Skipper. Then Rico (with an evil glowing chainsaw), Kowalski, Jiggles, Julien, Mort, Maurice, Burt, Clemson, Marlene, and every other animal Private had ever met. They stared with with frightening eyes glowing like embers, ready to burn him, razor-sharp teeth and beaks and talons and claws, ready to shred him like paper, iron paws and flippers ready to attack him should he falter. His eyes discerned a small shape on the ground, within the looming darkness ahead. Too late, he tried to avoid it, but in doing so, he tripped anyway. Then, there were those eyes, glowing like embers, all around him. Private layed there, helpless, resigned to his fate. Death, he knew, was inevitable. "Private! Private! Wake up, Private!" they all shouted. Now they were shaking him. And shaking him. And shaking him. And pouring water in his face- - and he sat upright in bed, terrified. He looked around himself and breathed a sigh of relief. He was safely tucked in his bunk at the penguin habitat in the Central Park Zoo. "Are you alright, Private? It looked like you were having another nightmare." Kowalski looked at him, concerned. "Yes, Kowalski. I'm alright." he replied. "But I really don't want to talk right now." "That's fine, Private." he said. And Private went to sleep once more, only to wake up multiple times in mortal terror of fiends his imagination had created. "Help!" he cried, before waking up for the seventh time. He sighed with, not relief this time, but with weariness and despair. "I'll never get to sleep with these horrible nightmares plaguing me every time I get a bit of shuteye." he said to himself. "Might as well get out of bed and walk around. Maybe that will take my mind off of this..." He got out of bed and meandered around the HQ, trying to think about something, ANYTHING, besides those nightmares. Suddenly, he had an idea. "Skipper?" he whispered. No response. "Skipper?" he ventured, a little louder. Still no reply. "Skipper?" Private said, even louder. Guess what? Not a sound. "Skipper!" he practically shouted. "What? Ae we under attack?" Skipper jumped out of his bunk, landing in a defensive fighting stance. "No, Skipper! It's just..." He trailed off, unable to voice his thoughts to his commanding officer and the closest thing he had to a father. Private had been orphaned at a young age, then transferred from the Brooklyn Zoo to the Central Park Zoo. He had been young, alone, and scared of the world outside his home. Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico had shown him kindness and care. However, it was Skipper who had been there for him when he needed it the most, when his parents couldn't be there for him, however much he had wished it. Over time, their bond had grown as strong as father and son. "What is it, Private? Something wrong?" Skipper looked at him with tired, but concerned eyes. "I... I... I had a... bad dream, Skipper." Private looked down at the ground. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Private!" the older penguin said, noticing that Private was embarrassed. "Why, even I have nightmares sometimes!" he said. He had to swallow his pride to say that, but he was trying to comfort Private, after all. It was worth it. "Really?" Private asked. "Really." Skipper confirmed. "Is... Is there anything I can do?" he tentatively asked. "Well," Private said, "I'd kind of like you to... tell me a bedtime story?" Skipper was taken aback at the suggestion. "Me? I don't know any stories!" Private dejectedly hopped up and sat on the edge of his bunk. "Alright then. Goodnight, Skipper." "Wait, Private. I know one story that my father told me, when I was just a chick.." At this, Private face lit up like the sun. "Really? Oh, goody!" Skipper hopped up beside him, sitting on the edge of the bunk. "My mother was from the countryside, and I'm even going to tell this story with her accent. Well, this is how it goes..." Once, a long time ago, see, there was this girl penguin named Juliet. Then there was this boy penguin named Romeo. Thing is, their daddies didn't like each other. So Juliet's daddy done threw a party and invited everyone except Romeo's family. But Romeo was sort of a spunky kid,, so he dressed up in a purdy costume so no one would recognize 'im, see, and he snuck into the party. But there was this fellow, see, and he recognized Romeo for who 'e was and challenged 'im to a duel, or sumthin' like that. Nut Juliet's daddy didn't want no one spilling no blood- well, not on his purdy l'il living room carpet, at least. So he done run Romeo off his property. But Romeo, plucky lad that he was, didn't go straight home to 'is mama like he done supposed to. He went back and sat on the hedge in the garden outside an' Juliet came out out on her balcony or stoop or whatever and they talked. And talked some more. And they decided to get married. So they go to this Friar Lawrence guy and he's a preacher, I guess, and they get 'im to marry them. They go back to their own homes that night so their daddies don't think they done anything wrong. But when Juliet got home her mama says she think high time they get Juliet done married. So Juliet, see, she's in a real bind here, casue she didn't want two husbands. She figgered Romeo would be enough to take care of already. So that Friar Lawerence person gave 'er these pills or sumthin', and she done took 'em, and it put her to sleep, and when her family saw 'er layin' on the bed like that, they thought she was dead. So they made her all purdy and had this real fancy funeral service for 'er, and put 'er in 'er own tomb. But 'afore the Friar could get word to Romeo that Juliet wasn't really dead, he'd already gone to her tomb and when he saw her there, see, he thought she was dead and he figgered he had nothin' left to live for. So he done drunk some poison he conviently had in 'is pocket an' he lay downn an' died. So then Juliet woke up and and sees Romeo dead and figgers she has nothin' left to live for. So she finds Romeo's dagger and run it through 'erself and lay down an' died. So the moral of the story is... "Love is eternal! That's the moral!" Private said. "Really?" Skipper said. "I always thought it was that if you have a kid who likes another kid that you don't like, and if you want to avoid the cost of a double funeral, let them have a cheap wedding." "Oh, Skipper." Private shook his head and smiled. Good ol' Skipper. "I did like your country accent, though!" "Why, thank you, Private!" Skipper took a bow and hopped into his own bunk. "Sweet dreams." "Thank you, Skipper." He went to sleep and had nightmares no more.