"A Penguin! Have you got a problem with that?" asked the visitor.
"No," muttered a scared Gromit.
"There'd better not be," warned the penguin, as he walked up the stairs.
"I've never been this scared since the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man spread obesity in town," whispered Gromit to himself.
A few years ago, in town, people were running away. They were running from the giant Stay Puff Marshmallow Man. The Ghostbusters – Wallace and Gromit, duh! – arrived and began firing their beams at the Marshmallow Fat Arse! It was destroyed, but marshmallow spread across town and a lot of people died with fat arses, stomachs and penises and tits!
Wallace let the penguin to the spare room.
"Well, just inspect, tell us your perfect room idea and me and Gromit will make your life heaven," said Wallace proudly.
The penguin took a look at the worst room ever he had ever seen – no carpets, no wallpaper, an old worn bed, a rotten cupboard and loose nails.
"Oh, you are joking!" shouted the penguin. "This is the worst room than the room I spent at Fawlty Towers!"
Years ago, the penguin spent time at Fawlty Towers in Torquay. Only ten minutes after he checked in, Basil Fawlty, the owner, and his Spanish Waiter, Manuel, came to see him.
"Well, what's the matter?" Basil demanded to know.
"This is the very worst hotel I stayed at!" answered the penguin. "Rats in the bathroom, moss in the window, your chef, Terry, gave a crappy cheese sandwich and your stupid waiter gave me the wrong luggage!"
"Que?" asked Manuel.
Basil grabbed him by the ear and dragged him out of the door. Then all the penguin could hear was a fall down the stairs and a big Spanish scream.
"This is the best part of my holiday yet," the penguin chuckled to himself.
Later, Wallace was later repainting the room, but not for the penguin. For Gromit!
"Wallace, I know we need the bloody money, but is it really worth to move your best friend from his best room to the crappiest room in the house?" complained Gromit.
"Gromit, we're going through a tough time. Besides, we keep him here for a couple of years, pay the bills and we'll be back to normal."
"A COUPLE OF YEARS?"
"Oh, shut up and try out your new present!" commanded Wallace.
Gromit sighed and went into his trousers. He put his straps on and pressed a button. The trousers did Gene Kelly movements. Gromit presses another one that made the trousers be worn by Michael Jackson. Gromit then acted like Fred Astaire without Ginger Rogers.
"Stop playing with them and get to work on the ceiling!" yelled Wallace.
Gromit angrily bashed his controls and he flew up and crashed the ceiling just like the Looney Tunes Coyote! He was hanging like a loose bulb needing to be changed and he walked began to decorate the room.
"See, I told you these techno trousers were wonderful," said Wallace proud of himself. "Oh, I'm sorry."
He just bumped into the penguin. As Wallace left, the penguin walked into the room and saw Gromit painting the ceiling.
"What are you looking at?" asked an annoyed Gromit.
"Wow, you're a smart dog, aren't you?" chuckled the penguin in a suspicious way.
As if his birthday wasn't already cocked up, he had to sleep in that dismal bedroom on the same night. And he could hear Life on Mars by David Bowie in his ex-room owned by the penguin.
In the morning, that "bastard penguin" beat him to the bathroom and putting the slippers onto Wallace's feet.
"Thanks," said Wallace. "But why are you doing that?"
"I was a bit rude to you, so I want to make it up to you," the penguin answered.
But Gromit knew he was up to something. And his mood didn't change as he moved down to the sofa the next night. Life on Mars could still be heard. He had enough. He went to his ex-room and knocked on the door.
"Knock! Knock!" shouted Gromit.
"Who's there?" asked a voice.
Gromit turned around and saw the penguin behind him. "Just checking your door was secured."
The penguin walked to the door, bashed it and the door fell down. "You're not doing a good job, dog!"
But Gromit wasn't a fooled dog and he knew the penguin did that on purpose. But, in the morning, Gromit was beaten by the penguin getting the newspaper.
"How about that, then, Gromit?" asked Wallace. "Some guess we got."
"Yes, I want to be friends with all of you, instead of just money-making business, just like Bill Gates is," boasted the penguin. Then everything was silent and nothing happened. "What? No clip? But this is a good clip!" But the clip never came.
The next night he was in the kennel, with only a blanket and ear-muffs. He saw Wallace and the penguin through the window. They were watching television.
"Can you believe that Jonathon Ross, eh, penguin?" giggled Wallace.
"Yes, he sure does take the mickey out of everyone," agreed the penguin as he turned around to face Gromit.
Gromit hurtled himself into his kennel and started packing. He packed his bones, his Look! Magazines and his supplies of condoms! He sadly looked at the picture of Wallace puking over Gromit at Chesington: World of Adventures. Then, covered in his yellow coat, Gromit ventured into the rain, looked at No. 62 and finally moved out onto the street.
Outside, the penguin chuckled, satisfied that Gromit left. He turned around with a drill in his wing and started to work on the techno trousers. Then someone else was there.
"Tim Allen!" The Penguin was surprised. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"What with no more Home Improvement and not enough Toy Story to keep me busy, I need to find work and this is the best I could find," answered Tim.
The penguin smiled. "Very well. You can have this job." And thunder danced around those spooky eyes.