On a bitter cold, Antarctic day the snowy wasteland is sprinkled with penguins all preparing for their annual migration. Just as they did every year the mother penguins were leaving their families behind in search of food for their newly hatched chicks. Many of the other penguins were there to wish them well, as they prepared for their own migration across the frigid ice.
Our story starts with a particular penguin couple. An anxious papa penguin pedals his feet back and forth against the sparkling ice. In fact, the repetitive moment is starting to turn it into somewhat of a slush. The hardy, opaque egg weighs heavily on his feet and mind. He looks up at his partner, a beautiful female penguin, and this helps to get his mind off of this tremendous responsibility for at least a minute. How he wishes she didn't have to leave, even if it was just for a few months.
However, is concentration is broken with the crackling of the egg.
"Wah!" He instantly recoils. Not only is the shell beginning to chip off, it's starting to wiggle and sway vigorously back and forth. It's almost as if a tiny alien is going to come bursting out at any second. "Uh… honey, it's moving!"
The cracking continues.
"What do I do?" His breathing turns into panting.
The mother penguin rolls her eyes and shakes her head but does so in a loving way. That is typical of her mate to panic in unknown situations. "Relax, this is completely normal." She puts a flipper on his shoulder. Good thing she had spoken with other mothers prior to this to get their input. He was freaking out.
"Is it?" He looks up at her with trepidation in his eyes.
Her face and voice fall flat. "I mean – it's just your son." He was really going to have to get comfortable with this parenting stuff sooner or later.
He begins to ruminate aloud, feeding into his own downward spiral. "But what if the egg got switched somehow? I could've been sitting on a skua egg this whole time! And I wouldn't even know it!"
"You're ridiculous." She was the one going out to sea for months and he's struggling over hatching an egg.
Suddenly an orange beak pokes its way out of the shell. Then, an eye hole emerges. A big blue eye peaks out at the world for the first time. The process unfolds, as the baby is eager to get out into the world it appears. In no time, the hatchling is using his little feet and flippers to fully escape from his shell.
What emerges is a little, fluffy penguin chick with a rather flat head. No longer having protection from his shell, the sun is bright and painful to his new eyes. He blinks a few times to adjust to this new world he has broken his way into. Once the brightness is no longer an obstacle, he looks up at the penguins all around him. He tilts his head and his beak hangs open as he tries to make sense of where he is. However, as soon as his gaze meets his mother's kind smile, he smiles widely back up at her.
Her attention shifts to her mate. "See," she elbows him, "and not even an ounce of skua."
"Okay," he's feeling a bit more relieved, as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that his son has just hatched. "So, what should we name him?"
Just as the conversation is about to begin, a nearby boat's horn roars throughout the penguin colony. Although ships are nothing new to the penguins, especially those of tourists and camera crews, just about everyone of them on the shore jumps at the sound. The only one who is unperturbed appears to be the little penguin at their feet. Instead, he giggles in delight. His neck strains as he goes in search for the source of the sound.
His mother laughs and shrugs. "I guess he likes the boats."
"That's it!" It seems his father has had an epiphany.
"What?" She's not following.
"We'll name him Skipper!" He explains. "You know, like the captain of a ship?"
Without hesitation, she smiles warmly and bends down to get a better look at her bundle of joy. She extends her flippers forward, inviting him in for a hug. The true test will be whether or not he likes his new name. "Hi there, Skipper!"
Immediately, Skipper waddles off of his dad's feet and towards his mother's flippers. He's surprisingly a good waddler, considering these are his first steps. He only stumbles a few times. Once he reaches her flippers, he tries to climb his way up. He feels safe in her flippers.
"Oh, what a strong little guy you are!" She cheers, while holding her son. He clings onto her, with his flippers wrapped over her shoulders and his head resting on her. It was rather impressive he was able to do that much already.
She then turns to her partner. "You want to hold him?"
With this, Skipper looks up and reaches his flippers out to his dad. He smiles and giggles at the much larger penguin.
"Eh, I'm good." He backs off sheepishly. The odds of dropping and breaking the chick somehow weighed on his mind. "So… how long do you think you'll be gone?"
She smiles reassuringly at her predictable mate. "I'll be back as soon as I can." Sticking Skipper out in front of her, she speaks to him while gently placing him back on his father's feet. "Don't you give your father too much of a hard time while I'm gone, mister."
She playfully waggles her flipper at her son, which emits a giggle from him in return.
As she waddles away with the group, she turns. Cupping her flippers around her beak, she calls back to Skipper's dad. "I'll be back with the others!" She promises.
The months pass, as Skipper's dad trudges through blizzard after blizzard, with the little one at his feet. The two struggle for warmth during those harsh months. Still, the migration of penguins continues across the tundra. One would think that those storms would be when it would be the most difficult to maintain hope. But that was unfortunately not the case.
By the time spring rolls around, the mother penguins have already begun returning in mass numbers. Each day, Skipper and his father eagerly await the return of his mother. With the sound of footsteps on the shore, Skipper leaps up and smiles with anticipation. He watches other moms return to their happily awaiting families. They bring their chicks in for big, tight hugs and give them lots of food. However, days pass. And they turn into weeks. Skipper feels the wind's chill even more deeply than he had in the winter months. With every other hatchling he witnesses getting fed, his stomach growls more aggressively. His smile begins to fade and his energy wanes. The last of the mothers return and yet his mom is nowhere to be seen.
"When's mommy coming back?" His big eyes look up at his dad.
Instead of looking at him, his father continues peering out towards the endless ocean. "She's not." He states bitterly.
"But all the other mommies came back –" This doesn't make sense to Skipper.
The larger penguin can't take much more of this. He looks down and snips. "She's gone, Skipper! And she's never coming back." What more did the kid want to hear? It's his fault she left in the first place.
Tears fill Skipper's eyes. What is happening? Where did she go? She has to come back. Everyone else did. Why doesn't he get to have a mom? What's going to happen to him now?
"But wh – ?" Skipper begins, as he leans into his father's stomach for comfort.
"This is a cold, cruel world we're living in, Skipper." He doesn't even look down at his son. His words are void of comfort and any emotion other than bitterness. Any warmth Skipper is searching for is absent. "I want you to remember that."
And with that, Skipper watches his dad walk away.
"No!" Skipper cries. Once he realizes what's happening, he begins taking off on his little feet. However, his strides are no match for such a larger penguin. Despite all his stumbling and slipping across the ice, he is desperate to catch up to his father, to not be left alone. "Please, don't go! Please don't leave!"
Tears run down his cheeks as he is left all alone. His chest heaves with each sob. He can only look around at all the happy, reunited families. Why can't that be him?
He balls up a flipper and rubs the tears from his eyes. His beak begins to run and he sniffles in the cold. While he has gotten himself riled up and fretting, he doesn't notice the skuas circling overheard.
"Ooh! Abandoned penguin chick at 2 'o' clock." One of the two skuas reports. He licks his beak at the sight. Unguarded chicks are easy for the taking. It's practically a free meal.
"Mm, my favorite! And just in time for lunch." The second skua concurs.
In his distraction, it isn't difficult for them to catch Skipper by surprise. They get the drop on him, swooping down as he barely has time to reaction with a startled jump. The first skua grabs ahold of Skipper's leg and drags him in. Skipper falls belly-first to the snow below.
"Hey!" Skipper squirms, kicks, and resists as best he can. But with his leg being pinned down, there's not much he can do.
"First chick of the season." The second skua inspects him and takes a good sniff. "Mm, nice and fresh! He'll be good eats."
"Hey let me go!" Skipper demands, continuing to fight aimlessly.
The second skua pauses. This causes the skua at his leg to tilt his head in confusion. "You know, since you asked…" the second skua bends down to look Skipper in the eyes and smiles cheekily. "Nope!"
This evokes a laugh from the other skua.
As the skua opens his beak to begin munching on Skipper's head, Skipper wagers this will be the end of his short, unfortunate life. He winces and buries his head in his flippers.
But what happens next surprises him. He doesn't feel a sharp beak biting down on him. In fact, he doesn't feel much of anything. It even seems like his foot is now free to move around. That's when he hears the voice of a stranger. It sounds harsh and even scary.
"Hey! Shoo! Get out of here! You scavenging vermin!"
It's followed by the screeching of the skuas and the flapping of wings. Whatever is going on beyond his flippers, it doesn't sound good. He figures he doesn't want to be a part of it, so the best thing he can do is stay put. Suddenly the noise comes to an end. That's when he hears heavy footsteps approaching. He shudders.
Little Skipper looks up from his flippers. Almost afraid to see what is scary enough to fend off the predators, he is cautious. But he looks up to see another bird like him. In the distance, the skuas are disgruntledly flying off empty-taloned. How come this bird didn't try and eat him too? As Skipper measures up the stranger, he determines that he is quite larger than him yet he's not big enough to be a dad.
The adolescent penguin extends his flipper down to Skipper. "Hey, you okay, kid?"
Skipper says nothing. He stares up at him in awe. Who is this stranger? How does he have the power to fight off those predators? Is he hungry too?
"You know how to speak?"
Skipper nods, still wide-eyed.
"Here, take my flipper." Sam emphasizes the flipper he has extended towards the little one.
Skipper holds on with both flippers and clumsily gets to his feet. Once he has steadied himself, he isn't sure what he should do with the stranger's flipper. It feels so soft and warm, so instinctively, he leans his head on it. Like a fluffy, feathery pillow Sam is comfy enough for Skipper to fall asleep on… or at least let out a yawn.
"What's your name, kid?"
Skipper is just too plain exhausted. His small, little body had endured a lot of excitement, or more like disappointment, during his first few moths of living. He doesn't say anything, as his body lures him into a slumber.
"Hey kid," Sam shakes his flipper. This jostles Skipper's tiny head. "I want to make sure you're all right. I need you to answer me."
What was that word his father used? The boat horn, his mom. What did they call him? "Skipper," the little penguin yawns weakly.
"Okay, Skipper. I'm Sam." Sam takes his flipper back. Skipper nearly topples over at its removal.
Then, Sam grabs ahold of Skipper's cheeks. He tilts Skipper's head so it bobbles to the left, then to the right. Skipper's tongue sticks out in the process. Sam stares at the hatchling's pupils. "You don't seem to be in shock. You should be all good then."
Just then, the large penguin turns away. What a strange kid. He could barely tell him what his name was. Either way, he'll be free to see another day and go find his parents. Those skuas can be treacherous. Sam begins to head back inside what he considers to be home.
Not too far from where the skirmish took place is the final resting place for a massive, beached ship. The vessel looks to have been abandoned for several years. The mast is completely jammed into an ice cliff. In fact, the tallest parts of the ship have found themselves to be frozen solid in the ice. This artifact from the human sailors is lit aglow inside by lanterns that tint the windows a warm orange hue, against the darkening evening.
Sam waddles his way back in. He reflects to himself, questioning if maybe it's time he starts minding his own business. But he couldn't help himself from intervening this time. Well, he never can admittedly. Upon hearing the hatchling's cries and witnessing the skua attack from his windows, he simply couldn't stop himself from jumping in.
Just as he goes to close the makeshift door behind him, he hears scratching on the ice behind him. The light scratching can only be attributed to that of little webbed feet. Sam turns around to find the same, little penguin looking up at him. What did this kid want?
Honestly, Skipper didn't know what he wanted. Maybe some warmth and a meal to start. From what he observed from the other birds, it looked like they all received food from a larger bird. Was this his larger bird? And I mean, this one hadn't tried to eat him like the skuas had. That was at least something.
"Do you need something?" Sam asks.
The little penguin smiles at him and nods.
"Where're your parents?" Sam questions further. It's like pulling teeth with this kid.
Skipper just looks around and shrugs.
"Your daddy?" Sam asked further, trying to use language the kid will understand.
"He left."
"Okay, your mommy?"
"She didn't come back."
"Oh," Sam realizes in this instant that little Skipper has no one. He has been abandoned by his father and his mother well… smart money is she didn't make it back from fishing. A seal or orca is likely to thank for that. The rest is will likely remain a mystery.
"Are you hungry? Do you need some food?" Sam asks clearly.
Skipper nods happily. Finally! This guy gets it. The little penguin, having not yet been versed in social decorum, excitedly squeezes his way in, past Sam. He shimmies his little, pudgy body in, as Sam watches with dismay.
Skipper is like a penguin in a fish market. He looks around, touching and picking up all of the human stuff. It's practically a treasure trove for the curious. There's a kaleidoscope Skipper picks up and holds to his eye. Getting bored of that, he tosses it and instantly is mesmerized by a periscope. He runs towards it, giggling. Grabbing onto the eyepiece, which only shows ice at this point, he begins swinging around like it's a merry-go-round.
"Uh, okay. Skipper, right?" Sam tries to get the kid's attention as he has already taken the liberty to go rummaging through his things. He's now suddenly full of energy. This can't be the same hatchling that was resting on his flipper earlier.
"Wee!" The little penguin keeps swinging.
Sam holds out a flipper to stop him. The little penguin comes to a halt. "Listen, don't get too comfy here, okay? I can't be looking after a chick. In fact, I'm not that old myself."
Skipper tilts his head to listen. But gets distracted by the stash of fish in the corner. He points, as if entranced. "Can I have some?"
"Uh, yeah… uh, sure." Sam scratches the back of his head. He is still trying to wrap his head around just what is going on.
Skipper rushes over and grabs a big fish. Shoving it in his beak, he tries to gulp it down but struggles. For some reason, he just can't get it down. Not just that, he even starts gagging.
Sam just can't watch the little guy choke. "Woah, woah, woah!" He goes running over. Snatching the fish from Skipper's gullet, he is met with pleading eyes. "Listen, baby penguins can't eat whole fish. It's gotta be… uh, you know smooshed up."
Next thing Sam knows, he's putting some krill and fish in the blender. Skipper's eyes light up as he watches it twirl and spin around. He's never seen anything like it. The whole fish is subsequently turned to mush. Once the mixing stops, Skipper eagerly reaches his flipper in. However, Sam bats it away. He can't have the kid reaching in the blender.
After Sam fills a cup with the fish slushie, Skipper drinks it down happily. His first meal is a good one and leaves him with a warm, full belly. Shortly after Skipper gulps down his dinner, his eyelids grow heavy.
"Getting sleepy?" Sam asks the obvious.
Skipper balls up his flipper in front of his beak and lets out a giant yawn.
Sam looks out the window. It is way too late to send the little penguin all out on his own. I guess it's fine if he stays the night. There's plenty of room for him, so long as he doesn't touch anymore of Sam's stuff. Sam sighs.
"Sam?" A little voice asks.
"Yeah, kid?" Sam scoops the tired, little penguin up in his flippers. For a hatchling, he sure is heavy.
"Why did you help me?" Skipper asks as he is gently placed in a cot beside the wall.
"Well, because I'm a penguin. We look out for each other. Otherwise, none of us would survive." Sam tucks Skipper in. "It's the penguin credo: never swim alone."
"Oh." Skipper's eyes widen as if he understands.
Sam turns to get to his own cot, when Skipper speaks again.
"Am I a penguin too?" Skipper kicks his stubby feet under the covers. Ugh, of all the time for this kid to start talking.
"Yes," Sam sighs, stopping midway between Skipper's cot and his own which is across the room.
"Cool," Skipper awes and stares up at the ceiling. Now it seems like a penguin is the coolest thing to be.
Soon Sam blows out the last lantern but leaves the fireplace on for warmth. Looks like he will finally be getting some shuteye. He gets under his cozy covers and finally rests his eyes. That kid sure was something but now was time for bed. He could worry about sending the hatchling off in the morning. Now, it was time to relax. He closes his eyes.
"Sam?" The little voice calls out once more. When Sam doesn't respond at first, Skipper calls again. "Sam?" Maybe Sam had left him too.
"What is it, Skipper?" Sam groans, rolling over begrudgingly.
"Why didn't my dad want me? Am I bad?"
Sam pauses. He certainly wasn't expecting this question. He sighs and tries to formulate the right answer before the kid calls out his name again.
"Sam?" Skipper calls again, just to make sure he's still there.
"No. No, kid, you're not bad. Your dad just – your dad probably just thought you were big enough to handle yourself. It happens to all of us eventually. You've got to learn to stand up on your own feet."
"Oh."
Sam suddenly feels bad for the little guy. He didn't know what to tell him, so he just made that up. There even is a twinge of guilt from losing his patience with the kid. Of course, he would be anxious after losing both his parents. "Are you warm enough? Have enough blankets?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, but don't get too comfortable. This isn't going to be a long-term arrangement."
Several years later, Sam is asleep on his cot. It is late morning, but the penguin loves his sleep. Over the years, he had grown quite a bit and has nearly reached full adulthood. However, his years of experience haven't prepared him for the ambush that was just about to occur.
"Sam!" Skipper, now quite older himself, leaps on top of the sleeping penguin. "Wake up, today's the day!"
Skipper is in his early adolescence at this point. He's nearly the size of Sam, but a bit shorter. Clearly, he still seems full of energy.
"How about five more minutes, Skipper?" Sam groans. "Then we'll go."
"C'mon, Sam," Skipper protests. He slides down from off of Sam, as the older penguins rolls over in the opposite direction. "I don't want to miss it."
"I'm sure we won't. Just give me time to catch a few more winks." Sam groggily demands.
Skipper's face drops. He surely didn't want to miss out on the excitement of today. This was his one and possibly only chance to meet his hero – Buck Rockgut. The penguin was a legend. He protects penguin-kind from the Red Squirrel and any other evildoers. Skipper was chomping at the bit to meet him in-person. He had so many questions. What would such a hero even look like up close? What would it be like to stand so close to greatness? In fact, he and Sam were both big fans. Sam was the one who introduced him to all of the stories. The chronicles of Buck Rockgut were vast and inspiring to Skipper, as he grew up. Tales like those made him proud to be a penguin. If Rockgut could do all those things, surely, he could too one day.
"Well, Sam…" Skipper paces on over to the opposite side of the cot. "I have ways of making you get out of bed." He teases with a faux-menacing tone.
Sam smirks and opens one eye. His younger brother sticks his flipper in his own beak, threatening a wet willy. "You wouldn't dare."
"Try me," Skipper laughs maniacally.
Just then, Sam springs up. He lunges at Skipper, taking the young penguin by surprise. Not expecting such a sudden change of pace from Sam, Skipper is taken off guard. Sam deemed it his job as the elder of the two to remind Skipper that he too had a few tricks up his flipper. Despite Skipper's struggle, Sam overpowers him quite easily. He puts the rambunctious penguin in a headlock.
"Ah, sneak attack!" Skipper exclaims.
Sam ruffles the feathers on Skipper's head. "Had enough?" He chuckles.
"Nope," Skipper grunts, resisting with all his might.
"Say uncle." Sam goads.
"Never!" Skipper laughs.
The brothers could go back and forth for hours, provoking and teasing one another. However, the sound of a ship's horn immediately gets their attention. They freeze. Skipper looks up from the headlock and Sam looks down at him.
Sam, without warning, releases his grip. This sends Skipper to the floor with a thud. Placing his flippers on his hips, he ignores his younger brother. "That must be him."
"Huh?" Skipper lifts his face from the floor.
"C'mon, what are you laying around for?" Sam teases, before running for the door.
"Hey!" Skipper leaps to his feet. "Wait up!"
They emerge into the sunlight to see a massive crowd of penguins at the edge of the ice. A boat has docked and a long, wooden walkway is released over the edge. Rockgut himself hasn't quite appeared just yet, but the build-up is a spectacle of itself.
"Aw, and I wanted to get a good seat." Skipper whines.
"We will," Sam looks over the crowd, with a pair of binoculars. "Follow me, kid."
They belly slide their way to the crowd, just as Rockgut is making his way to land. Several other penguins, who appear to work for him, steady the walkway for him, so there's no chance of him falling. Instead, however, Rockgut leaps over the side of the boat. Just to show off, he does a flip in the air and lands perfectly in fighting stance. The crowd breaks out into cheers, as the assistants groan as they roll the walkway back up.
Having finally reached the queue, Skipper and Sam stand towards the back. Skipper strains his neck every which way to get a good view of his hero. At one point, he stands on his tippy toes.
"Want to get on my shoulders?" Sam whispers his taunt. Height was always something that Skipper was self-conscious of. He just couldn't resist getting another jab in at his little brother.
In response, Skipper slaps Sam's shoulder. It really packed a punch but Sam laughs it off as he rubs his now-sore appendage.
"You want to see him up close?" Sam asks. Sam does really want his brother to have this moment. It means a lot to him and he can see that. Besides, he does feel a tiny bit bad for oversleeping. Though he'd never give Skipper the satisfaction of being right. When the kid's right, he never lets it go.
Skipper nods vigorously. Of course, he wants to meet his hero up close. That's the reason they came today. At the time, it was the thing he wanted most in the world. The chance to meet his idol. Wow. Skipper could hardly fathom it. What all could he learn? Well, not a lot from this far back. He can hardly hear what Rockgut is saying. But if he could just get close enough, maybe, just maybe some of Rockgut's courage and strength would even rub off on him a little bit.
Just then, Skipper turns to see Sam is already stepping through the crowd. He follows as to not get left behind. What is he doing? Slowly, Sam weaves in and out of penguins and Skipper clumsily follows. With every disgruntled noise arising from the other penguins, Skipper offers an apology. However, he can also hear Rockgut better now.
"Yeah, it wasn't easy. That squirrel sure can be a flipperful." Rockgut remarks, in response to a question that had been asked.
"Huh? Oh, these old nuts and bolts?" Rockgut pats the ship. "Hijacked it from a group of tourists. Easy peasy."
Skipper catches bits and pieces of the conversation, as he is also concentrating on keeping up with Sam. They are getting closer to the front. Just as soon as he catches a glimpse of Rockgut's flathead, he feels a forceful flipper on his back.
The flipper begins shoving him forward, through the front of the crowd. Oh no, oh no. He's going to the very front! Sure, he wanted to see Rockgut but right up front? He doesn't want to be front and center. After ploughing through all but the very front penguins, there is a pause. Out of nowhere, this is a huge push that sends him stumbling right through the very front row.
Haphazardly landing on his feet, he turns back to find the source of the shoving. Sam stands back, proud of his handiwork. Literally. Skipper looks back and glares, briefly sticking out his tongue. His pettiness gets the better of him, as he forgets where he has found himself.
When he turns his head, he is staring directly up at the one and only Buck Rockgut. The penguin, larger than life, stares back down at him with skeptical eyes. What has Sam gotten him into?
"Uh…" Skipper starts chuckling nervously. He had a long list of questions he wanted to ask him. In fact, he had rattled them all off to Sam to practice. Several times. Now that he was actually in front of him, he was rendered speechless.
"Where's the fire, powder puff?" Rockgut huffs.
"Huh?" Skipper is too stunned to speak. "Oh, uh, I just wanted to say uh… you're my hero. And someday, I want to be just like you!" He chuckles it off nervously, trying to recover his pride.
"Oh, well thanks. Keep your head up, kid, and your earholes open. There's always room for more penguin agents out there," he puffs his chest out. Then, subsequently lowers. He hunches his back and whispers to Skipper, as his eyes suspiciously scan the crowd, "especially with the Red Squirrel still at large."
Skipper gasps in amazement. Had his hero just talked directly to him? This was all the inspiration he needed to follow his dreams… and maintain a healthy level of paranoia against the Red Squirrel. That was the message, right?
Rockgut continues recounting all of his triumphs, with perhaps a bit of embellishment. Skipper's eyes light up with each story. The wide smile never leaves his beak throughout Rockgut's entire appearance. He nods vigorously, leaning in to take in all of what Rockgut is saying. From behind him, Sam finds amusement out of his younger brother's excitement. Something about seeing him happy made Sam proud. Even though he never intended to look after Skipper, small things like this let him know that he was doing it at least somewhat right.
After Rockgut hopped back in his boat, the crowd dispersed. Skipper and Sam began walking towards the shore. The younger of the two is all smiles.
"So, was he everything you dreamed he would be?" Sam chuckled, filling in the silence.
"And more! He's a complete legend! The greatest hero penguinkind has ever seen! I mean, how can you top that?" Skipper spouts then tries to cool his excitement back to his regular swagger.
The two sit down as Sam whips out a large, couple of fish he had brought with them. Sometimes they'd have lunch overlooking the water. In Antarctica, that was really one of the more exciting things to do… and that was saying something. Aside from storytelling and fiddling with the human artifacts, the brothers often found themselves bored with the provincial lifestyle that the frozen tundra had to offer.
"Sam, you ever think of leaving this place?" Skipper asks.
"Are you kidding?" Sam laughs. "You think I like living on this floating popsicle? Whatever gave you that impression?"
"Well, just thought I'd ask." Skipper shrugs and goes back to eating his fish. Clearly, he hopes this conversation continues on its own. Specifically, he'd like it to go in a certain direction.
"I mean, everyone here seems so satisfied with the domestic life. Settling down with a partner, raising a couple chicks, and then … I don't know, becoming seal chow." Sam shrugs. "That's just never been for me."
"Yeah, I can tell." Skipper laughs. They had often complained about life in the Antarctic.
"I mean but where would we go? We can't just leave." Sam negates.
"Of course, we can!" Skipper leaps to his feet. He sure is fired up after the events of the day. "Rockgut leaned in and told me himself, the world needs more penguin agents! You know, exploring the world for threats to penguinkind." He does a slow motion move with his flippers.
"Exploring would be nice. You know, getting the chance to actually live a little and see the world beyond the tundra would be something." Sam raises a brow and smirks. "Fighting off foes could be pretty exciting too.
"Exactly!" Skipper is nearly hopping. His eyes are wide.
"But we're still stuck at the how. We have no means off leaving." Sam frowns.
"Funny you mention that. What are we always annoyingly awoken by every other morning?" Skipper rolls his eyes knowingly. There's no way Sam can refuse this plan. It's ingenious! Plus, it's all he's thought about since meeting Rockgut.
Sam groans. "The endless hordes of human tourists, snapping photos and guffawing at us penguins?"
"Correct-a-mundo!" Skipper places a flipper on Sam's shoulder. His opposite flipper rests promptly on his hip. "They take their pictures and pose with the penguins to their hearts' content, while we sneak on the boat and hitch a ride!"
"But won't they notice a couple of penguins stowing away on their ship?" Sam is skeptical.
"Well, not if we hide." Skipper feels as though he's stating the obvious. "We hitch a ride and see where it goes. And that, my friend, is how you start a worldwide adventure."
"I don't know, Skipper." Sam hesitates. He really wants to but leaving behind everything he's known; it's asking a lot. Plus, it's a big risk. What if one of them gets injured or worse?
"C'mon, Sam! Where's your sense of adventure?" Skipper is practically pleading. "The way I see it," he wraps his flipper around Sam. "As long as the two of us stick together, there's nothing we can't handle. What's that penguin credo mean again?"
"Never swim alone." Sam rolls his eyes but smiles. The kid was persuasive. "Fine, but we have to stay together."
"Deal!" They seal it with a high one.
Skipper plops back down. Having successfully convinced Sam to join him on this adventure was exhilarating. What a perfect day. He begins to happily kick his legs, tracing the water with his heels and toes. "You know, if I was very to have a kid. I think I'd name him Private."
"Private? Like the military rank?" Sam laughs at the ridiculous thought of his younger brother ever being a father. It was almost as absurd as he himself settling down.
Skipper is trying to get his point across, but it seems like Sam isn't buying it. And as a result, like always, he doubles down. "Yeah, I've thought a lot about this. It's kinda like the Skipper version of naming your kid junior."
"Oh, Skipper." Sam shakes his head. It was never a dull moment with that one. Certainly, this trip would be an interesting one. And it would prove to be so. After leaving the shore, their lives and brotherhood would never be the same.
