PART TWO (/3)
Author's Notes:
This is the longest chapter, because I can't be arsed to split it in half. Unnamed Song References: Stamp on the Ground by Italobrothers and Livin' La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin.
The others return later that evening. He tells them of the party. He doesn't mention the enigma he met at the end. He prefers to keep that lovely secret to himself. Kowalski appears surprised.
"How would a king of an endemic species from a remote island come to be at a place like this? It's almost like they allowed themselves to be taken… of course I haven't a shred of evidence to support this theory."
"Apparently, it's for security. Considering the shady animals that skulk around zoos, I'm not sure it's any wiser, but that's not any of my business."
The last Skipper wants to do is get involved in some kind of conspiracy someone is hatching to take out this spoiled royalty in the permanent sense. If he really is a king with real power or influence, Skipper cannot say. All roads in that direction lead to complication.
Normally, he lives for danger and daring do. However, his insolent neighbor has done nothing to achieve his good graces. Whatever trouble he's in is probably self-inflicted and well-deserved. His gut is uneasy, telling him to stay far away from this self-absorbed party animal that he has yet to even meet.
"Did the rest of his party guests seem upper class too?"
"Not really. It was quite the assortment, he obviously doesn't care what sort he keeps company with, or he's unaware of any criminal elements." The cheeky thief Pancho and his timid boyfriend come to mind.
"That Julien bloke and his party guests seemed nice enough," Private remarks. "Someone named Timo was interested in Kowalski's inventions, and I showed him a few of the least dangerous ones. Ted watches The Lunacorns and knows tons of trivia! Most others said hello or told me I'm the most darling, cutest thing they ever saw."
Cleary, Private has been sucked in by brown-nosing to the extreme. Skipper stares at him with incredulity. "I don't want you associating with those hooligans, especially that halfwit they call King Julien. Comprende?"
Private mutters, "Yes, sir."
His eyes portray that he disagrees with Skipper's command. However, he doesn't verbally express it. Rico meanwhile, swallows some fish without comment. He remains silent, but his gaze is off in the distance. Kowalski looks thoughtful too. Skipper can't put his flipper on why, but he doesn't like it. He has a bad feeling they've been swayed by this temptation of their neighbor's devil-may-care lifestyle.
After the evening winds down, Skipper finds himself staring at the concrete above his bed slot. Skipper isn't usually given to senseless lust, but he is unable to get the gorgeous stranger off his mind. He pictures the intense, sparkling eyes of the mystery partygoer and his self-assured demeanor while Skipper was kicking them out.
Skipper wants to find out the identity of that ring-tailed lemur. Investigating though, would likely require direct contact with his unbearable neighbor and further with his delinquent followers. It's quite a being 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' situation. He's gone so long without romantic entanglement now - merely messing around with someone here and there with no strings attached. His life makes it difficult to have real connections outside of his team, and the repertoire he has to build with certain allies.
Time passes in a sluggish daze as he pines, unbeknownst to his commando brothers. It isn't like he'll die from this ceaseless yearning; Regardless, the frustration threatens to become a distraction.
One morning he's left to his own devices, enjoying a mug of fish coffee topside. Kowalski is deep below, working on his latest mad experiments in his lab. Private is out with zoo friends, since the zoo is not open today. Rico is in headquarters as well playing video games, but he might as well be on another planet.
He thinks of Manfredi and Johnson, how they'd have enjoyed this peace. The Avian Vigilant Rescue and Intelligence Corps - AVRIC - pushed them too hard. Skipper learned almost all that he knows from those two. It aches sometimes, to know those noble penguins died so horribly, and as a result of a betrayal.
A gray-tan patterned loris with large brown eyes flashes in his mind. He can hear Lola's javan accent clear as day. "Sometimes sacrifices are made. Sometimes, collateral damage is necessary in service of the greater good."
She was a good agent, but she was not a good friend or person. He wonders if she's still sleeping with that gibbon. Last he knew, they had broken up. A recorder floats down by a small parachute in front of his beak, breaking his thought process.
Skipper cautiously circles it. When nothing explodes from the device, he plays the recording. Hans' nerve grating voice comes through.
"I shall not lose to you next we meet. Prepare for your ultimate defeat, Skipsy." The recorder crackles as he laughs. "This message will self destruct in 5 - 4 - 3 -2 -"
Skipper drop-kicks the recorder into the horizon. It explodes cleanly in the air. He rolls his eyes. His secondary arch-foe is so dramatic. He has no idea that he's not even number one on Skipper's pain in the ass enemy list. At this point, he might be pushed to third if Skipper ever gets around to meeting King of the Dunces in the flesh.
He recalls last week, when Blowhole hijacked the television just to give a long-winded rant about his latest scheme and the problems he would solve (by causing mass anarchy, no less). Skipper had tuned most of it out. Blowhole had paused in the middle of his tirade.
"My stress levels have skyrocketed," Blowhole complained. "I need to take a soak. As a doctor I've recommended it to myself."
"You're not that kind of doctor - I'm not certain you're even a real doctor."
" is a legitimate website! Do not doubt my superior intellect foolish peng-u-win!"
Skipper was surprised it was a two-way communication - it should not have been possible. Then again, given that Blowhole spared no expense for technology, not that surprising.
"Can you chill?"
"Did you even listen to my plans? I bet you zoned out again."
"You need to get out more, Francis."
"You need to get LAID!"
Skipper needs new frenemies, or better yet, more just plain friends. For a genius, Blowhole has the mentality of a juvenile otherwise. Skipper swirls his fish in his cup and sighs. The sun creeps higher in the sky as Skipper contemplates his life's priorities. The noon fish come, flopping into the bowl of the habitat.
His boys materialize like an aggressive mist. They pass through in a whirlwind. Rico and Kowalski return to their respective socialization avoiding activities with nary a greeting. Private makes a bit of small talk, before claiming he has a friend date to attend.
It takes him a moment too long to notice the shadow. He's disappointed in himself as he spots the otter Marlene on the top of the fence. Thankfully, she isn't one of the zoo inhabitants who raises his blood pressure.
"Is that charity thing the zoo is doing on Saturday?"
"Affirmative. Why are you asking me?"
"You just seem like a guy who knows stuff."
"I do know stuff," Skipper confirms. He pays attention, unlike some people who need to pull their heads out of their asses.
"Could be a wet one," Skipper continues. "There's a forecast for rain."
Marlene grimaces. "Fun times. Not that I mind a little water - a lot of water - but if it starts to thunder, I'm out."
"Apparently, we're getting some visiting animal sponsors from other zoos. This includes the wonder duo from Seaville -"
"Doris the dolphin and Mr. Got his doctorate online?" Marlene mentions Doris' name in a lovey-dovey tone to mock Kowalski. Skipper smiles.
Though he disapproves of her hanging around those obnoxious lemurs, Marlene is a generally smart, sensible creature. He enjoys their chats. Storm clouds descend as he remembers they're also getting Lola - who happens to be the sponsor of the Kenya Wildlife Preserve, even though her species isn't even native to Africa.
"My ex will be showing. If she tries to hook up with me again, I quit. I'm swimming the long haul back to Antarctica." Skipper wouldn't care if an ocean predator ate him, as long as it meant not dealing with Blowhole and Lola in the same vicinity.
Marlene chuckles, but she offers him a paw on the wing in sympathy. "She's the most self righteous and fake thing on the planet isn't she?"
"I wish I could delete my memory of dating her. Kowalski hasn't made much progress in that tech, but he says it could do irreparable damage to my personality and sense of self."
He cradles his head in his flipper and adds, "Why does my type seem to be stupid beyond all reason?"
"It's not your fault there are two kinds of cute dumbass and Lola is the wrong one. Anyway, you could get a date for the day."
"I'd rather just get eaten by a leopard seal."
"Good luck with that! Anyway... It's one o'clock, and I have a card game scheduled."
"Later Marlene." In a flip, she is gone.
A finger taps his shoulder. Years of trained reflex prevent him from flinching, and he instead takes a defensive position. To his pleasant surprise, it's none other than Ringtail standing before him, the guy from Julien's party and subject of naughty fantasies. Were he of weaker constitution, he'd blush.
Ringtail sits upon the ice slab next to him. He sips from his smoothie and says, "I hope you do not mind me joining you, neighbor."
"I don't mind at all. When did you get here? How did Marlene not notice you?"
Julien scratches himself between the ears. "At times, I am not being noticed unless I want to be."
Skipper is bemused by the cryptic answer.
"You seem sophisticated. Why do you associate with that party animal idiot you all call king?"
Briefly, the lemur appears offended. He must have respect, or some form of devoted affection for their leader. Skipper can't wrap his mind around that.
"That's a bit harsh mon chéri. Why so quick to the judges? You have not even been meeting of him."
His language is somewhat mangled, but Skipper finds it charming. He probably can't help it. English is a wide-ranged language with weird rules.
"I know the type. Upper crusts are all the same in my experience, why should I expect anything different?"
Ringtail's brows twitch. "Open your eyes! The world is not so small or black and white like your handsome feathers."
"Handsome, huh?"
"Not being the point, but yes. I have been watching you a little you know - not in a creepy way. I was seeing you doing your tacticals and fightings near my pen. I happened to walk by during one of your drillings - you did not see me I am thinking."
"I think I would've remembered if I saw you," Skipper claims.
Ringtail smiles and ducks his head. "Oh stop, I'm blushing."
He asks out of the blue, "So, is your name really Skipper?"
He has to consider the question. He doesn't make a habit of telling people the details of his past, even one so miniscule. He could probably find out on his own, if he wanted to badly enough. Despite their training, Private and Kowalski tended to have loose beaks.
"Apologizing, did I touch your nervous parts?" Ringtail reaches for him. Skipper gets a view of his delicate fingers.
"No… no parts were… touched." He wishes Ringtail would close the rest of the distance. "My full birth name is Dennis Marquis of Skipper."
He sighs, remembering the large inheritance he mysteriously received one day. His parents had been secret agents too, and their identities were classified, even from him. They may have been some sort of minor royalty, but Skipper never cared about that kind of thing.
Skipper tacks on, "Don't ask me what that means, I have no idea. Let's say, that name died with my mentors."
"That's quite a name. And you have experienced loss? I am sorry. I have nearly been losing the ones I love, and it wasn't being fun."
Ringtail continues with a slight laugh, "I'm not one to talk about names. I'm named after my uncle who was named after his father named after his father after his father after his father after his father after his father after his father after his father after his father after his father after his father."
"Holy mackerel." Skipper says, "Here's a fun fact for you - my grandmother taught me to fight, initially, before I was inducted into a spy agency of sorts."
"Curious. I have a friend who admired her grandma." Ringtail's gaze becomes distant and clouded. "I'm from a long history of cruelty and brutality, but I don't let the past define me. I believe in equity, living instead of just surviving, and embracing the differences of all the peoples."
Skipper is becoming more enamored with this mammal by the minute. He imagines them hanging out and talking like this every day. It feels easy as cats relaxing in the sunlight. He's interrupted from his musings by the sound of Private calling him from outside the habitat. Skipper goes to meet him. He hugs Skipper.
"Just stopping by to give your daily reminder that I love you, sir!"
Considering Skipper practically raised Private, shows of affection like this aren't uncommon. They still make his heart do a funny thing.
"Ease up on the sentiment you knucklehead. It's a dangerous weapon."
Private giggles and makes a goofy expression. Skipper smiles wide. Skipper decides he's a bit hungry and quickly swallows the last remaining fish. He notices Ringtail giving him a soft look.
"What?"
"I was just hearing your exchange, and I thought it was sweet."
Ringtail has finished most of his smoothie and is now slurping the remnants at the bottom. Skipper quietly watches his struggle.
He plays with the straw and begins, "I don't want to reveal my name yet… it might invite… reservations? I cannot be finding the word I want."
Ringtail explains, "English is the third language I was learning the speaking of and slacked muchly, education in Madagascar isn't great in the southern kingdom. I enacted reform but it was being late for me. I grew up with the French alongside Malagasy. Sometimes, others are having difficulties communicating with me…"
Skipper isn't a stranger to the languages, he's fluent in Spanish, German, with a loose grasp on a smattering of other languages. However, French is lost on him, and naturally he has no clue when it comes to Malagasy. He never had any drive to learn French, and he feels no draw to visit it unlike Kowalski and Private. Ringtail could say whatever he wanted in those languages, with Skipper none the wiser.
It could be fun to test if Ringtail knows one of Skipper's other languages, at some point.
Ringtail's expression tells Skipper that he's insecure about his ability to communicate. He wants to smooth away the tight lines in his visage. Ringtail laughs it off.
"Any way, you can be name calling me K.J. if you like. I should be leaving now, there was a minor dispute that needs my help taking care of."
Skipper prefers his own nickname for the lemur, but he isn't sure if he'd appreciate that. "Can do, KJ. It's been really nice talking to you."
Ringtail nibbles at the straw. "I did not know you were having joys with our talking, I am happy you told me."
"I look forward to be observing your drills again. If you do not mind that either?"
"Of course not. Bit of a secret - I love to show off my leadership skills and moves from various fighting arts. Observe away."
"Oh, that's hot. You can take me to bootcamp anytime, Mister Dennis."
"That's Skipper to you, soldier." Skipper playfully squints in his direction.
Ringtail doesn't hesitate to salute him. "Sir, yes, Sir!"
Is he flirting? Skipper is so out of practice it's difficult to tell. His pulse is racing and he's definitely heated beneath his feathers. His recent exes weren't the flirting type - more like straight to the point.
Ringtail muses, "I might be taking a power nap after the serious parts. I think there was a dispute I am to be settling. Maybe I get a seaweed wrap. Talk to you later."
He makes a heart shape with his fingers on his chest and winks.
"C-cool."
Yep, great response. Ringtail vanishes from view. He has a stupidish smile plastered on his beak, but he doesn't care. He's alone.
Private bursts into the habitat. "Hey, Skipper! Any plans for the rest of the day?"
Skipper notices Ringtail left his empty smoothie cup on the ice. He tosses it over the wall on impulse. It's not like he was doing anything scandalous, but it's nearly an instinct for him to be secretive.
"Hey. How was your day?" Skipper ignores his question for now. He hadn't given any thought toward drills. Ringtail had thoroughly distracted him.
"It was great!" Private waddles closer and examines him. "Um, sir are you feeling alright? You look flustered."
Skipper drags a flipper over his beak and swallows. "Excellent observation skills, but I'm fine. Just the… weather."
Private stares at him for a moment. Then, he shrugs. He opens the way down to the base and looks over at Skipper. "Coming?"
"In a bit. I'm going to pop over to Marlene's."
Private nods and disappears through the hole.
At Marlene's habitat, Skipper frantically informs her, "Help me. My neighbor's acquaintance or friend or cousin, I don't know, he's hitting on me I think."
Marlene blinks. "How is such a tough guy also such a dork?"
"Because the world isn't black and white apparently."
Marlene tilts her head in confusion. Skipper doesn't elaborate.
"What do romance savvy people do these days? Perform a mating call under the moonlight? Showing up with flowers and chocolate, is that outdated? Maybe I should just go to my stupid neighbor's stupid party and ask him to dance. No that's too forward. What the deuce! What am I supposed to -"
Marlene groans and rakes her paws down her snout. "I'm suffering! Skipper. Just get to know him and be yourself. You're not some hippie from the San Diego zoo."
"I'm doomed. He's gorgeous, smart, funny, sweet, endearing - just - just end my life! I'm fooling myself to think he'd look at me twice."
"If you think he's flirting with you, he probably already likes you. Give me the details!"
Skipper recounts his conversation with Ringtail with as much attention to detail as possible. He's thankful for this good memory.
"Yeah, he's totally into you," Marlene casually states. "Don't overthink it or ask any weird personal questions. And mother of pearl - don't do mating calls! If you did that I'd kill you myself. That is so last century - at least buy him dinner first, yeesh."
Skipper processes all of that.
"I feel better. Thanks, Marlene, I knew I could count on you."
"No problem."
Skipper returns to base just in time for Kowalski to run out of the lab and yell, "Eureka!"
Skipper's eye twitches. If Kowalski makes a sudden movement, he might strangle him. Rico pauses his video game and looks on with curiosity, along with Private.
Kowalski announces, "I've cracked the code. I know how to get Doris to fall for me, this time guaranteed!"
"Stop being the trying too hard to leave the 'friend zone' guy," Skipper reprimands. "It's embarassing. Friendship is a gift you know!"
"And it's magic!"
"Shush, Private."
"Sorry sir."
Kowalski snaps, "I'm not in any zones! She simply hasn't recognized our potential to be an amazing couple. I'm going to shine a light on it, you'll see."
He wonders if that's a figure of speech, or if Kowalski's plan involves actual lights. He decides to err on the side of caution and doesn't ask.
"What do you know anyway," Kowalski goes on. "At least I'm trying to find romance and happiness. At least I'm not throwing my life away getting off with the wrong sort, with those I know are toxic for me. At least I'm not paralyzed by my bitterness and -"
"You're on thin ice, soldier. Thin ice," Skipper growls. "Do you want extra drills, quadruple time and cleaning duty after taco tuesdays?"
"I take it back, I take it back! I'm shutting up now! Apologies, sir."
Skipper groans and rests his flipper over his eyes as Kowalski sheepishly retreats into his lab. The sad part is Kowalski has a point. He might change his mind if he knew about Ringtail, but Skipper isn't even certain what's going to happen there yet. His imagination might be getting carried away, regardless of Marlene's reassurances.
His insecurities remain. He's always been hopeless in the romance department. He's either stupefied and acts like a total macho idiot, or he closes up like a particularly nasty bear trap. Though it's painful to hear out loud, Kowalski isn't wrong.
There's a knock above the ladder. He opens it to reveal Ted. He enters the base. He bows in a bizarre formal way and announces, "It's my honor to invite you to the exclusive party of our illustrious King Julien the thirteenth!"
Ted hands him a card. Skipper examines it, and the chance of meeting Ringtail in person again almost makes him consider going. There's picture of what looks like a pale half coconut with assorted leaves sticking out of it. The card has writing that he is unable to read. He guesses that it's a pass for the party.
"Should you really be announcing his name like that? Isn't he incognito?"
"He believes you are trustworthy, sir."
That would be flattering and validating from anyone else. However, he wants nothing to do with this buffoon of a displaced monarch. He rips the paper in half and tosses the pieces at Ted's feet. Ted frowns in disappointment.
"Let him know I am not, nor will I ever be interested in his irritating raves he insists on having through ungodly hours of the night."
He points to the exit. Rico takes a step toward Ted. The lemur's eyes go wide, and he beats a hasty retreat before Rico can show him the door, so to speak.
This goes on for a while, day after day a new person shows up to grind his gears. He learns all of their names, in case he can somehow leverage the information later.
Pancho is the first. He offers, "King Julien has plenty of things to steal, if you're interested. I know a good getaway guy. It's me, if you couldn't guess. I expect payment, though, I wrote my rates on the back of the card."
"King Julien would like for you to come to his party, and I would like you to come too," says a mouse lemur named Mort. "He really likes you!"
Crimson purrs, "If you come to the party, I promise there will be some of us ladies who wouldn't mind trying a bit of penguin meat."
A black and white lemur takes one look at him and says, "Nope. Not doing this."
"Can I get a name for the record?"
"It's Hector. If you have a problem with me, good! Die mad about it!" He doesn't hand Skipper the card, instead he rips it up himself and throws it in the penguins' incinerator.
"There's fantastic beverages to be had, and the DJ is the best," Horst informs him. "My girlfriend is an amazing cook and fruit salad maker, if you don't like mangoes, you will!"
Sage gravely shares, "Danger is a house made of fear wood and worry nails."
"Great, get out," Skipper tells him in particular.
Rob quietly hands him a card, mutters an introduction, and makes himself scarce. Willie shouts, "Hi, I'm Willie come to the party!" Then, he throws the card at Skipper and sprints out of the base.
Karl, after giving his name, spends ten solid minutes having a glaring contest with Skipper. In the end, Skipper wins. "Most impressive, my friend."
He hands him the card and leaves without another word.
He's also invited by an elderly chameleon named Masikura, a small lemur child named Todd, a black and white hedgehog-like creature who turns out to be the previously mentioned Timo, a cockroach who doesn't or chooses not to speak English, the smirking fossa whose name is Mary Ann, a loud toucan XiXi, and finally the snake whose doctorate validity is impressively less likely than Blowhole's.
Skipper gives all the cards the same treatment, they're ripped up and thrown away. If he has the chance, he throws it in some manner at the one who offers it to him. He appreciates the ones on some level who seem to fear him or possess a semblance of intelligence. Still, he could do without the annoyance.
Skipper is about ready to attend the party just to throttle Julien.
It cools his nerves when he gets to see Ringtail again. The lemur asks for an in depth tour of the base. Skipper keeps their deepest secrets close, but he doesn't mind sharing a little. He becomes the highlight of any day that Skipper can hang out with him.
In later December, he's having a calm morning. He sent the most recent of Julien's lackeys packing with some genuine, harsh threats. He's optimistic that he'll finally give up. He mixes chopped fish with a few other ingredients, to add variety to their pallets. Technically, the diet doesn't require it, but things can get dull. He pokes around on Kowalski's smartphone while he's still busy eating.
There's a knock from above. Skipper jumps to his feet, sending a random bucket flying across the floor from him accidentally bumping it. He manages to gently set the phone down. His boys all have their eyes on him in alarm.
"We've been popular lately," Kowalski observes. None of them except Skipper had paid much attention to the visitors. "Who could that be now?"
"He's sent one of his toadies every day for the past two weeks and three days, trying to give me a stupid invite."
"Who?"
"Our ever-loving pain in the a - ascot, Julien, of course." He practically spits the name like an angry, hissing cat. He'd be bristling at the mere thought of him if he had fur.
Private asks, "What did you do?"
"Tore it up, threw it at whomever, and told them to get the hell out of our sanctum." Skipper growls and stabs the table with a knife. "Sometimes, I threw threats for them to bring to their ringleader. This so-called King Julien absolutely cannot take a hint, I could haul off and punch him in the schnoz and he'd still want to be good old pals."
There's the knock again. Skipper's eye twitches.
"Maybe you should consider -"
"He better not show his face. I will shove that paper down his esophagus and choke him against the wall."
Kowalski snickers, for unknown reason finding that funny. Rico mutters, "Mhm. Kinky."
Skipper ignores them and does not look at them. The doorbell rings for a third time. "Hoover Dam," Skipper mutters so Private doesn't hear.
Louder, he says, "Go away! I'll have you and all your buddies transferred to Hoboken!"
The knock doesn't sound off again. Skipper checks through the scope to be sure. "Finally. Someone with sense."
The rest of the morning passes in silence. He leaves with the boys on a mission. They get separated in the fray. He heads home, their usual rendezvous point when something unexpected happens.
However, he finds nothing as he tears through the base. Scenarios begin to shoot through his mind - they've finally gotten sick of him and abandoned him. Hans abducted them, and he's torturing them now. They've been taken by an alien civilization because their DNA is compatible to help them repopulate.
"Kowalski, options," Skipper calls into the empty HQ. His voice echoes back. Not having them around is worse than a missing limb. It's a rare moment when they're not at his side. He was alone once, after Hans' betrayal. He doesn't miss it.
Skipper runs his rough flipper over his face. He'll have to start by asking the neighbors if they've at least been through here. He asks the entire zoo before he comes to halt in front of the dreaded lemur habitat. He prefers to leave no rock unturned, but this rock is particularly unpalatable. He hops the wall anyway.
So come and join our love foundation
Go feel the heat, the sweet vibration
'Cause we are about to ignite
And we wanna go out tonight!
Ted appears from nowhere. He grins and throws his arms around Skipper without hesitation. Skipper shoves him off, causing him to tumble on the ground.
"I have two words for you Teddy-boy: Personal space."
Revealed behind Ted, another he recognizes as Willie tugs at his ears. His bright green eyes fill with trepidation. "We're all gonna die!"
There's a pause in the music between songs. Several people stop dancing, playing, and socializing. Many pairs of eyes alight with concern or terror land on Skipper. Apparently, his reputation precedes him. Horst sips on his drink, loud in the sudden quiet. They all seem to be anticipating drama. A few of them cast glances to the eye of the storm, where their king must be, but his royal highness doesn't make an appearance from the throng of bodies.
Hector remarks bitterly, "Nope. Not doing this."
Idly, Skipper half-asks Ted, "Do you lemurs all have designated catch-phrases?"
Hector traipses to the stereo set and changes the song over. Skipper instantly recognizes the song before the lyrics even start. The crowd gradually returns to their wild celebrations. Ted remains on the ground, staring at him. Skipper sighs and gives him a flipper to stand up.
"Sorry! I forgot myself for a moment there," Ted says. "I know not everyone loves hugs as much as I do. I'm just so happy you've finally decided to drop by and have some fun!"
"Uh, decidedly not, bootlicker. I just want to know if anyone here saw something suspicious. My boys, the other penguins, are missing, and I've no clue toward their whereabouts."
"What do they look like?"
She'll make you take your clothes off and go dancing in the rain
She'll make you live her crazy life but she'll take away your pain
Like a bullet to your brain
Come on!
"You've met Private, who looks like a cutesy, innocent version of me."
"The others are Kowalski - a tall nerd with the slightly enlarged noggin, usually has a clipboard or paper pad in his flippers. Rico is hard to miss, rugged and scarred, a bit of feathers sticking up on his cranium, and an unstable, murderous glint in his eye."
"Oh, yeah! Julien went over to see if you were home and in a better mood than this morning than when you shouted at Clover - you weren't there, but your friends all accepted invites!"
Skipper's eye twitches once again, and there's a high probability he's going to lose his cool and knock these lemurs silly. He fastens his beak on his right flipper to keep from snapping this twig Ted in half. While he was running himself ragged looking for them, they were here - in absolutely no danger other than losing all sense of responsibility and logic.
He scans the crowd, and he spots his three traitors with little trouble. He marches over to Kowalski, who is playing on a multi-tier chess board that looks like it came directly from one of Kowalski's space adventure films.
Skipper is one hundred percent done with King Julien's antics. Stealing his men is a new level of low down and dirty.
END OF PART TWO
TO BE CONTINUED