Private slid speedily to his bunker, grabbed his magazine, and raced for the telly. He was almost there and had already started humming his favorite show's theme song when Skipper suddenly stepped into his pathway. "Hey, Private," Skipper asked, watching him through scrutinizing, beady eyes, "what's the rush?"
Private came to a halting stop so fast that the snake who was still following him in the shadows almost didn't stop in time. He snapped his thin body back and recoiled back into the dark shadows. Shutting his eyes, he faded into the darkness as the two penguins talked.
"Nothing really, Skipper," Private murmured, sliding a talon across the concrete floor. "I just thought I'd watch some telly, is all," he explained, hoping fervently that Skipper had not suddenly come up with another mission.
Skipper looked him up and down. There was something amiss with this picture, but he hadn't managed to put his flipper upon the truth of the situation yet. "Wouldn't you rather play a nice game of chess?" he questioned though he already knew the answer.
"Hum . . . Well, I, hum, that is . . . " Private nervously scratched the back of his head.
A sly grin tugged at the corners of Skipper's beak. "Is it Lunicorn time already?"
"Yes!" Private cried, clutching his magazine in front of him. His eager grin beamed across his entire face, and his eyes shone with his delight. "Yes, it is!" When Skipper nodded, Private asked hopefully, "Do you want to watch it with me? We could play chess afterward."
Skipper made a face before he could stop himself, and Private's smile dimmed in the light of his open and truthful reaction. The fact that he would never waste his time with such a boring and childish cartoon was on the very tip of his Skipper's tongue, but he swallowed his distaste for the kid's show at the look on his beloved Private's face. "I don't have time for it today," he opted to say instead. "I've got work to do. We'll be facing an important mission tomorrow, and I've got to get our plans ready."
"Really?" Private asked.
Skipper nodded with an important air even as he tried to figure out which mission he would send his team on. He hadn't planned anything of true importance for a few days yet, but he'd simply bump up the mission. Perhaps it was time to travel outside of the zoo again. He'd look at his plans and see what master scheme he could concoct quickly for them.
"Do you need me?" Private asked quietly, his eager, bright smile having been replaced by a frown and his eyes beginning to water. He clutched his magazine more tightly.
Skipper smiled compassionately upon his young lover. "Not for this, not yet, young Private, but I'll call you when I do. Go enjoy your show. If you can take such great pleasure out of something so whimsical and innocent, go for it."
Private was gone before Skipper could even finish his statement. He was left alone in the corridor, and yet he did not feel alone. The commando penguin's skillful eyes swept the area. He had the strongest sensation that he was being watched; his feathers shivered along his body. Something was wrong. Some one was watching them.
Somebody was after them, but then when was there not some dastardly villain out there aiming for him and his men? There was always some evil plot afoot that they would have to stop. Skipper didn't know what this latest scheme was yet, but he would soon. As soon as he recognized it, he'd call his men to him, and he and his team would stop the foul villain in their tracks.
For now, he just had to wait, watch, listen, and study the situation. He hated waiting, but there wasn't much else that could be done yet, not until he discovered the latest plot to throw over the world. Clasping his flippers behind his back, Skipper waddled on to his scheming board.
The snake opened his eyes and watched the penguin leaving. He was the leader, while the one who clutched his dubloon in his greedy flippers was the young one of this flock. His forked tongue slithered out of his mouth. He'd have to be careful. He had to get his dubloon back, but he didn't want to end up having to fight all of them in these closed quarters that were their turf. If he could get them on an even playing field, he wouldn't mind, but they had the advantage.
Of course, they weren't the only ones with an advantage. He, too, had an advantage for he was in their home and the penguins had no idea of his presence. He smiled and laughed. His laughter made a hissing sound, and he stopped, recoiled back into the shadows, and snapped his eyes shut.
He moved back into hiding just a split second before Skipper turned around. His steely eyes searched the area again. "Hmm," he muttered aloud, rubbing a flipper across his feathered chin. He could have sworn he'd heard something, and yet he saw nothing. He shrugged his shoulders, turned around, and took a few more steps before suddenly whirling around again. Yet he still saw nothing. He shrugged a second time and left the corridor.
Maybe his men were right. Maybe he was getting just a little paranoid with his age. Nonsense! he thought, fervently shaking his head. He wasn't paranoid; he was just well guarded!
Behind the leader's back, the snake again slipped out of the shadows. His forked tongue slithered out of his mouth, and he tasted the stale air in the penguins' lair. He used his senses to locate the young thief who had taken his dubloon and slipped quickly after him, keeping to the shadows and continuing to blend in perfectly.
He found the young one sitting before a loudly blaring television set. He'd seen the instruments before though he did not understand the fascination they appeared to hold for the rest of the world. The penguin danced in his seat in time to the music that grated on the snake's nerves and made his scales cringe. He shut his ear slits against the racket and peeped at the screen. Animals were running about it. They looked like unicorns, but though unicorns were a legend in their own right, these things were the silliest beings he'd ever seen.
The snake turned from the television set in disgust and looked back to the young penguin watching it. He was completely absorbed in the show, but as a commercial came on, he turned back to flipping through his magazine. The snake smiled and slithered his tongue in anticipation as he spotted the golden glimmer he'd come to love so much over his years shining in the penguin's flipper. He slid smoothly across the floor and climbed up the back of Private's chair. He draped his coils around the top of the chair and leaned forward. Silently, he opened his fangs, and then, as Private oohed and awed over his Lunicorns magazine, the snake made his move and struck for Private!
To Be Continued . . .