Private scowled as he crawled through the narrow sewer tunnels, mentally cursing Skipper to the deepest pits of Hell that not even Lucifer would dare to enter.
That Damn Hypercritical Bastard.
Never leave a man behind.
Never allow any of their own to swim alone.
Those were two of the main Skipper preached about but the first chance Skipper had got he had abandoned the British Penguin without a second thought, going as far as to throw that damn bomb at the roof of the pathway between so Private couldn't follow.
And it had worked, the ceiling of the tunnel had collapsed separating him from his so called Team.
'Team', Private snorted at the idea, 'Don't make me laugh'.
A team didn't do something like this. That rubble could have, and was probably meant to have killed him. If he had been a second slower he would have been crushed like a tin can in a compression machine. He made a mental note to thank his Mother and Grandfather for their torture- Sorry- training the next time he saw them.
But for now that would have to wait as he had to find a way out of the damn maze of a sewer system.
Skipper was in a good mood as he climbed out of his bunk and looked at his sleeping men and the empty bunk above his own before heading for a nice hot shower.
When he got out he decided to head to the kitchen and make his favorite Fish and Cimon Coffee as a way to celebrate the success of last night's mission:
Both the Official One and His Personal One.
Private Tux was finally gone and no one could blame him for the Rookies mistake that had no doubt gotten him regretfully crushed under the falling rubble.
Headquarters should have known better then to send a team like his a soft, girly member when they were all hardened warriors. And their refusal to take the Brit back had lead to an unfortunate accident that now caused them Tux's live.
Maybe now they would listen to him more and send a Real Penguin.
His thoughts were cut short as he entered the kitchen and his mouth dropped at what he saw:
There, sitting in front of the TV, was Private Tux eating a muffin while he watched that Damn Lunacorn show. Like he did every morning since he arrived.
As if to mock him, there wasn't a speck or nudge of dirt on the British Penguin, even his clothes were spotless.
And if that wasn't bad enough, blue eyes finally looked up and locked on him before he smiled.
"Good Morning Skipper."
Private mentally smirked as he watched Skipper narrow his eyes as the older drank his coffee, all the while keeping his hard blue eyes on him.
He couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for the tasteless Laxatives he slipped into the elder's liquid Cimon for his coffee to kick in.
Private couldn't help but mentally sigh in bliss:
Revenge was sweet and oh so addicting.
