Okay, so maybe I have limited knowledge about children, regardless of how long I've been taking care of the penguins. But I know a thing or two about protection. I mean, I'm an octopus, and my camouflaging is technically a defense mechanism, not just a little trick I do to entertain. I wonder if humans have the same problem with their children as they age — them thinking they know everything and can take care of themselves.
You can't blame me for being a little protective of these little guys. They're tiny penguins in a big city! I couldn't let them get hurt. And besides, what I just did? That wasn't being protective. That was being logical. That was being sane. I was teaching basic survival, here.
So, it's Christmas Day and the zoo is closed, so I took the penguins into the city so we could check out the Christmas decorations. I think this was the first time we'd been to other areas of New York. We saw the big tree in Rockefeller Center in Manhattan, the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx, the Dyker Heights Christmas Lights in Brooklyn, and some fabulously decorated houses in some Queens neighborhoods.
May I remind you that we left at about seven, and all of our time spent in the city was at night? Have you been in New York City at night? Have you been in any city at night? On Christmas? This is common sense, people.
Oh, it was great for a while. We had a really good time, a lot of laughs. We awed at all the beautiful Christmas decorations. People really take this holiday seriously.
Some to a violent level. That was when things took a turn for the worst.
You remember Thanksgiving? When I made them promise to never leave me like that again? Seriously, do all children have this thing about keeping promises? It's not because I hate them, it's because I don't want them to — oh, I don't know — die?
It was well past midnight, and we were headed back to the zoo on a bus. Literally on it, by the way, as in on top of it. We weren't bothered much by the cold.
Driving down Fifth Avenue — wow. How much do these humans get paid to decorate like this? Anyway, we got off at the bus stop between East 67th and 66th and started making our way back to the zoo about two blocks down. The penguins became entranced by some decorations, so I made a quick stop so they could get a closer look. There were a few pedestrians around, so I camouflaged us in a bush. There was a lot of traffic at the moment, so there were several loud car engines and car horns behind me. So, while I was distracted looking up at the decorations, the penguins decided to play hero.
No, not play hero, be a hero. Tiny little penguins up against a big human being. What the halibut did they think they could do? Cute him to death?
After a moment of admiring the decorations, I looked down to see just Private there, staring in shock across the sidewalk. I followed his gaze. The other three penguins had somehow gotten a hold of some teen's skateboard, and Rico pushed them ahead a few feet before climbing on, his momentum having kept the thing moving. I immediately panicked and looked ahead to see where they could possibly be going in such a hurry. Not too far away, an alley cut between two buildings, and in there was a woman on her knees, fishing things out of a purse for a larger man wielding a gun, which was aimed at her head.
A FLIPPING GUN.
I shoved Private deeper into the bush.
"Stay here," I ordered. He nodded in fear and I took off after the penguins. The man sensed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned sharply, firing without first assessing who was coming at him. Luckily, I had already ducked out of the way before he pulled the trigger, camouflaging myself to a wall with my hearts pounding. There was panic behind me as the pedestrians back on the sidewalk tried to figure out where the sound came from, but with all the traffic sounds, it was hard to pinpoint. The man looked around frantically and I feared he'd see the penguins, but by this time, I realized that now even I had no idea where they were. They were just there! Where could they have gone?
A moment later, my question was answered as I heard a series of pops coming from seemingly nowhere and the man ducked his head and took off for fear he was under fire. He left all the woman's things on the ground in his haste. The woman quickly gathered her things and took off down the street. The penguins rolled out from behind a pile of crates with an empty pack of firecrackers and jumped off the skateboard, exchanging high fives. I leapt down to the sidewalk next to them. I think I turned a bit red as my fury grew.
"What did you just do?! You could've gotten yourselves killed!" I screamed.
"But, Dave, he was attacking that woman!" Skipper protested.
"I don't care what he was doing to that woman! That human was dangerous! He could've killed you all! You can't just throw yourselves into something like that!" I argued.
"But we're okay! We might have saved that woman's life!" Skipper argued back, his frustration clearly growing.
"Skipper, this is serious. You have to pick your battles. That was none of your business. Did I mention he might've killed you? The police would've handled it just fine," I said, rubbing my temples.
"The police?" Skipper repeated. "That woman could've been dead by then!"
I sighed impatiently. "I swear, you have seen the last of those action movies. I understand why you did what you did, but you can't just put your lives on the line like that. You're only children. The human world is a mess. A mess that's not yours to clean."
Skipper rolled his eyes. "But, Dave —"
"No buts!" I said. "You think you can do these things but you just can't, Skipper!" I gathered them into my arms. "I don't want to hear another word about this." I turned around and saw that Private had come up behind me. He looked sad and worried, probably because he saw us arguing. I sighed and gently picked him up without a word as I started our nonstop journey back to the zoo.
When we got back to our habitat, I set them down on the island. "You four go straight to sleep. Not a peep until morning. Understood?"
Skipper sighed exasperatedly. "Dave, you need to —"
"I said sleep. No talking, no arguing, just sleep," I insisted. "I'm staying right here until you do."
The older penguins exchanged tongue-in-cheek glances before trudging over to the center of the habitat and laying down. Private hung back for a second and gave me a sad and apologetic look before joining them. When they settled down and closed their eyes with their flippers crossed over their chests and Private nestled between them, I let out a silent sigh. There was this nagging thought that told me I was too harsh on them, but I still pulled myself back to my original point.
They were children. Period. Exclamation point.
— § —
The next day I woke up at the bottom of my tank. I had turned in after a little over an hour of watching the penguins sleep, when I had assured myself that they really were asleep. I spent a good bit of time that morning debating on whether or not I should surface to see them. I finally decided that I was the adult and shouldn't be afraid of them. They're children. They're my responsibility. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I surfaced.
"Well, good morning," I said, keeping my expression calm, but disapproving as I folded two of my arms over my nonexistent chest. They turned to me. The older penguins seemed unhappy to see me, but Private smiled nervously, as if worried about what would happen between us.
"Morning, Dave," the littlest one said, trying to sound cheery.
"Have you three had enough time to think about last night?" I asked.
Skipper stepped forward, his expression hardening. "Yeah. We've thought about it. We helped that woman. She could've been seriously hurt. You can't tell me that what we did was wrong. It was in every way right, and if we had to do it over, we wouldn't change anything." He folded his flippers over his chest, clearly holding his ground. Kowalski and Rico followed suit, loyal to their brother. Private stood by, looking timidly between us.
I sighed. "Don't you understand? It's a dangerous world out there. What can a few tiny penguins do about it? You're just kids. It's not your place to put your lives on the line. What you did — sure, it was honorable, heroic, et cetera, but the fact remains that you're still children. Anything could happen out there. And anyone can be your enemy. You just — never know," I reasoned.
The penguins exchanged a glance as what I said sunk in. But then Skipper looked at me again with that determined expression.
"That's just what other penguins told us back in Antarctica," he started. "We're just penguins. Nothing but cute and cuddly. Well, I have news for them, and for you. We may be cute, and we may be cuddly, but that doesn't confine us to our so-called 'nature.' We're different. And we're gonna show everyone just that. You're right, anyone could be your enemy. But anyone can be your hero, too."
A moment of silence passed between us. Of course, both Kowalski and Rico backed up their brother, as if he were their leader or something — as if anything he said, they would remain loyal to him, even if he was wrong. Private seemed afraid to take sides, but even he seemed to be leaning toward Skipper's argument.
"Fine," I said finally. "But I'm afraid this means I can't take you to the city anymore. I'm not going to watch you four get killed. I'm not going to take you to your deaths. It's not gonna happen."
The older penguins seemed to soften a little at the idea of never going to the city again, but they remained steadfast in their argument. It broke my hearts to see little Private look so devastated at not going into the city anymore, but I did what I had to do. It was obvious that I wasn't wanted up here anymore, and, quite frankly, I didn't really want to be right now. I couldn't bring myself to look them in the eye, especially little Private. I dove back under the water and settled myself at the bottom of my tank.
I didn't see them for the rest of the day.
— § —
I honestly didn't think the penguins could break my hearts more. Who knew betrayal could run so deep.
I surfaced again that evening to say good night. I mean, we were still angry with each other, that hadn't changed, but I wasn't going to let that stop me from saying a good night, however strained. The penguins were just getting ready to turn in when I broke through the water.
"Hey," I said quietly. They turned to me and I found it difficult to maintain eye contact. "Just came to say good night."
The penguins exchanged looks before turning back to me. Skipper stepped forward, always one to take charge of a situation.
"Dave, look, we're — sorry about everything that happened between us," he said. I looked up at him with my brow lowering in shock and confusion. I wasn't expecting an apology, at least not so soon. I was actually so surprised that I forgot to respond. Skipper continued. "We — started talking about what you said, and . . . we get it. We're just so young, and you're looking out for us. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
I loved how he kept using "we," even though he'd been doing all of the talking since this whole thing started, as if he was speaking for the whole group. He probably was, knowing their close brotherhood. I was still stunned by this heartfelt apology and I couldn't find a response.
"Uh," I started finally, "I . . ." My voice trailed. I finally brought myself to meet his eye and sighed. "I'm sorry, too," I said finally. "I wasn't saying that what you did wasn't good, or right, or whatever. I just don't want to see you guys get hurt in a fight that isn't yours. I'm sorry I yelled."
"It's okay," Skipper replied. "We just don't want to fight anymore."
I looked between them as they gathered together, looking up at me with eyes that willed me to forgive them. The thing was, I already had. I smiled.
"Me neither. How about we just put all that nonsense behind us?" I suggested.
The penguins smiled. Then they rushed forward and put their flippers around me, shaking off the traces of goo from my skin when they stepped back.
"Does that mean we can go to the city again?" Private asked hopefully.
My smile melted. I cleared my throat.
"Look, guys, uh," I started, looking at the ground and the water, "I'm not saying we'll never go to the city again. But for the time being, I think it best if we take a rest for a while. Okay?"
The penguins seemed disappointed, but they nodded. Honestly, I wasn't taking them to the city because I wasn't sure if I could trust that they wouldn't disobey me again and put their lives in danger. I wasn't going to tell them that, though.
"Good," I said. "You four should go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
"Actually," Skipper said before I could dive back under, "I was wondering if you could sleep with us again tonight," he requested. For the second time that night, I was completely caught off guard. "For old time's sake?"
I looked between them again. They were all willing me to say yes. How could I not? I still find it hard to say no to them at times. Not that I even wanted to say no. They wanted me to sleep next to them again! This could be the start of a better relationship between us after all of that tension!
Well, that's what I thought at the time, anyways.
I realized my jaw was hanging open and I closed my mouth as I cleared my throat. "S-Sure," I replied. "Absolutely."
I climbed out of the water with a smile. The penguins gathered in the center of the island as they always do, and I made my little nest for them. They looked up at me with a smile.
"Good night, Dave," Private said sweetly. The other penguins followed suit.
"Good night, boys," I said before settling down with a sigh. They closed their eyes for the night and I did the same a few minutes later.
I did so with a smile on my face.
— § —
You know that feeling that you humans get in your gut when you just know something is wrong? Like there's some kind of weight in your stomach, telling you to check on things? I had a feeling similar to that a few hours after falling asleep. This is also the moment I discovered how heavy I sleep.
I started feeling as if something wasn't right, so I groggily opened my eyes. I snapped into attention as I regained feeling in the rest of my body and my head shot up.
Five of my arms were faced down on the island, their suckers sticking to the cement to anchor me in place. The other three stretched across the pond to the fence surrounding the habitat, the suckers secured to the bars, creating a sort of bridge between the island and the fence. I looked around the empty habitat and panic gripped my throat.
I had never been more frightened in my life than at that moment. I scrambled out of the habitat, unconcerned about the possibility of being caught by the night watchman.
"Guys!" I called, hoping they hadn't gotten too far. I started for the zoo's gates, looking around the entire way, hoping they were just exploring the zoo and not the city. "Boys! Skipper! Kowalski!" I called again, still receiving no answer. "Rico! Private!"
I came to the conclusion that they had done the unthinkable — going into the city without me. I started hyperventilating. All they had to do was a little begging. I probably would've given in to taking them into the city — tonight, even. But no, they had to sneak off themselves. I was more scared than I was at the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. At least then, I had some idea of where they could be. Now, I had no clue. I could be searching the city all night and maybe even the next day. They could get lost. They could be killed. They could be kidnapped. All those same thoughts ran through my head as they did at the parade, but magnified by a thousand.
I squeezed myself through the zoo gates and charged into Central Park, frantically looking around. I perked up at every pigeon, every squirrel, every rustle in the leaves, hoping I had found them. After deciding that they weren't in the park, I hurried toward the city streets.
I perched myself high in a tree, as high as I could manage, and peered both ways down the street. I grunted in frustration as I realized the error in my plan. There were so many cars and pedestrians in my way. How could I spot four tiny penguins from up here? But how could I move quickly around the city without being noticed? Camouflaging does have its limits — like not being able to blend into every flipping thing at once.
I suddenly remembered my disguise from the parade. Could I pull it off now? Sure, the humans are gullible, but there isn't anything to distract them now. I could easily be spotted.
After realizing I didn't really care because my penguins were somewhere in this dangerous city at night, I made my decision. Something serious could happen to them if I didn't find them in time, if it hadn't already. I slunked down to the base of the tree and camouflaged myself. When I saw an opportunity, I dashed across the street and slithered down 64th Street, heading for the clothing store at the end of the block — Etro, I believe.
I did as I had before — snuck in, grabbed a shirt, jacket, pants, boots, gloves, and a hat, and dashed to the changing room. After throwing everything on and tucking my extra arms under my shirt, I changed my skin tone and gave myself a once-over. I tucked the tags in and left the store once again as if I owned the place, hoping I looked convincing.
I walked for a minute just observing other humans' reaction to my disguise to check for any double-takes, suspicious eye-narrowing, sideways glances, or lingering stares. Anyone that did look my way didn't seem to give it a second thought. This gave me confidence as I started my search again, looking down every alley, on top of every car and bus, behind every newspaper box and ATM. I broke into a run as I searched down every sidewalk, praying that I didn't miss anything and hadn't passed them. I almost crossed the street several times without looking to see if I had the right of way and in turn was honked at by several angry drivers.
I kept searching, determined to find them, dead or alive. I searched for a whole hour. That hour turned into two. Then three. Then four.
At almost four o'clock in the morning, I found myself in the northern areas of Jackson Heights, near the airport. In my haste to find the penguins, all my ability to reason went down the drain. The penguins and I had never been to Jackson Heights. The odds that they were here were slim, unless they'd gotten really lost. It being so late, I decided that I'd head back to the zoo and hope that I'd find them back there, safe and sound.
It took a little over an hour to walk back to Long Island City. During my walk, I still found myself darting my eyes around, hoping to spot the penguins somewhere. It wasn't until my adrenaline started to calm a few miles ago that I realized how exhausted I was. My "feet" were killing me, my muscles felt heavy, and I felt as though I could just pass out on a bench. The only thing keeping me going was the possibility of the penguins being back at the zoo, and I wanted to know they were okay.
As my head cleared, I also started to think more about the situation. They'd betrayed my trust in them. Again. They're kids, I know, and kids do reckless things, but this was insane. All they had to do was beg. They know by now that I find it hard to resist them when they beg. I know they know because they use it against me all the time. And I let them because I cared about them.
Because I loved them.
I had no idea how much until now. I loved them. I had no idea what a parent's love felt like, but I had a feeling that it was something like this. If something happened to them, if I couldn't find them, if I never saw them again . . . I think I might just lay down and die.
How could they do this to me? They knew how worked up I got when they did crazy things like this. I didn't do it because I wanted to punish them, no! I did it because I didn't want them to get hurt or killed! Why was that so difficult to comprehend?
I started to cross the street when a taxi cut across in front of me, running the red light and honking at me. I jumped back in surprise.
"Hey, I'm walking here!" I shouted at the idiot driver. With an annoyed sigh, I continued across the street.
During the time that I walked, I started to hate this time to myself. It seemed so ironic since I'd spent most of my life alone, and had preferred it that way. But now that I'd gotten used to the company of the penguins and had accepted my role as a guardian, this time alone was torture. I had all this time to think. I thought about when the penguins had first arrived, how I had hated them for taking away my attention. How my harsh feelings toward them were soon extinguished when I realized how sweet and innocent they were. How I'd cared for them. How I'd taught them things. How they'd taught me things. The fun and the laughs. The trips to the city. Trying new things.
How my hearts broke when I thought I lost them on Thanksgiving. My paranoid delusions when I couldn't find them. How I did find them, and held them close to protect them from harm. How I'd scolded them in my post-frightened rage because I was furious that they'd done something so reckless and could have gotten killed for it, feeling that it would've been my fault. How I held them again to assure them that I was only concerned for their safety. How Skipper had finally started getting my name right.
How I watched the first feathers fall from their bodies when they'd started molting. When I'd taken them to the zookeeper's office to watch movies to take their minds off it. When I'd brought them a thick blanket from the city so they could stay warm during the nippy winter nights. How I'd taught them how to swim.
How they abandoned me. After everything I'd done for them. After everything we'd been through together. I thought we were friends. No, I thought we were family.
And they had betrayed me.
It took a little under an hour to make it to Midtown East, where I started my final walk home. Back in Jackson Heights, I wanted nothing more than to get back to the zoo to see if the penguins had made it back there, but now I was starting to dread it. What if the penguins weren't there? It was a terrifying thought. All this time I spent looking for the penguins just to come back empty-handed (empty-armed?).
I started feeling dizzy from my exhaustion and I braced myself on a nearby wall. I felt ready to literally pass out. But I couldn't. I had to get home to my penguins. They're there. I just know it. Stay awake . . .
I felt a hand on my shoulder and flinched. I turned to see an old woman — maybe around fifty — with dark hair and skin and brown, concerned eyes. She was bundled up against the cold December morning.
"Are you all right, sir?" she asked kindly.
I obviously wasn't, but I nodded my head, waving a hand in an attempt to get her to leave me alone. She didn't look convinced. She reached into her bag and handed me a ten dollar bill.
"Here. Take a bus home. You don't look well enough to walk," she said.
I was touched by her kindness. I had always thought all New Yorkers were just rude and frightened people, but this woman was offering me this fare out of the kindness of her heart, simply because I didn't look well. I took the bill from her hand, wishing I could think of something to say.
She didn't wait for a response, though. "It's okay, darling. Just get home, and remember what old Gladys told you. Things will get better." She slowly continued to amble back down the street.
I clutched the bill and fought the urge to cry — not just because she was nice to me, but because after all this time running around the city with angry, impatient people pushing me out of the way, she was the first one to be nice to me. I walked to the nearest bus stop and waited on the bench.
It was a little after seven now, and the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, illuminating the sky in a deep orange. I realized I'd never actually watched a sunrise before. It seemed to mock me. As if to say, Yep, it's me, here to remind you of all that time you wasted looking for the penguins. Good morning!
Finally, the bus pulled up and the doors hissed open. A few other people filed on with me. I paid the fare and continued to move down the aisle without accepting the change. I found an empty seat near the back and sat down, hoping no one would sit next to me. I half-heartedly leaned against the window and watched New York speed by as the bus started moving.
It was really tempting to try and sleep, but I was afraid if I did, I would miss my stop. So, I instead concentrated on the people on the sidewalks. Just moving about their day. Some dogs in alleys. Was that Harry and Marv? Nah, probably just my imagination.
I saw an old lady feeding some pigeons. Business associates going into diners for breakfast. An animal shelter with some woman ringing a bell for donations. Turn onto 3rd Avenue. Almost there.
Someone was watering plants at a florist shop. I yawned. Animal control officer chasing four tiny figures down the sidewalk. People going to —
Wait.
FOUR TINY FIGURES?
I smacked my face a few times and spun around, craning my neck to see back down the sidewalk. The four tiny figures were racing down the sidewalk with the animal control officer hot on their tails with a net. I stumbled out of my seat and raced to the front of the bus as it bumped along the road.
"Stop the bus!" I called, stumbling forward. Being an octopus, I was very intelligent, and I'd taught myself how to speak English from a young age just by watching the humans. I stopped by the driver. "You have to stop this bus," I said, now fully awake as my adrenaline once again coursed through my veins.
"Are you crazy? Go back to your seat before you get hurt. We'll be at a bus stop in a few minutes," the driver snapped.
I growled in frustration. I didn't have time to argue. I saw a lever marked "Emergency Brake" and grasped for it, pulling it back with all my might. The bus screeched to a halt and everyone called out in surprise, anger, and confusion as they were thrown forward. The driver smacked at my arm and hollered curse words at me. He was so infuriated that he grabbed the lever to open the doors.
"Fine, just get off my bus! Go on!"
He said some other crude remarks, but I was already sprinting back down the sidewalk. I could see the animal control officer in the near distance, getting ready to bring his net down over the penguins and heading in my direction. I had to grab them, but he couldn't see me grab them or there would be questions. When I got close, I ducked into an alley and stripped all of my clothing off, throwing them in the nearest dumpster. When the penguins ran by, I stretched out an arm and snatched them up, wrapped it firmly around their beaks to keep them quiet, and camouflaged myself into a corner. The animal control officer came into the alley and looked around in confusion when he didn't see the penguins.
"Where are you?" he asked quietly as he moved forward. He knocked aside pieces of garbage and looked behind trash cans. After a few minutes of searching, he grunted in frustration. "I know they were here," he muttered to himself. "They were right here!" When he finally gave up and left, I sighed with relief. Then reality hit me in the face and I looked down at the penguins, dropping my arm from over their beaks.
"Dave!" they cried as they hugged me. At this point, I didn't know how to feel. I was furious that they'd snuck out here on their own and nearly gotten themselves killed, but I was so relieved that they were okay. And I was exhausted from worrying. I set them down in front of me and even I didn't know what my expression said.
"I'm gonna save you the speech for now," I started, crossing two arms in front of me, "mainly because I'm exhausted. Besides, I think you know what I'm going to say."
The penguins exchanged sad glances and started to study the ground. A moment later, Skipper looked up at me.
"How'd you find us?" he asked timidly.
"Oh, it was easy, really. I just listened to the sound of complete and utter betrayal and followed that," I answered with a shrug. "How could you do something like this? What would you have done if I hadn't been here at the right moment to save you from animal control?"
The penguins shifted uncomfortably.
"We had it under control," Skipper answered, although even he sounded doubtful of that.
I pursed my lips and nodded. "I could see that," I answered sarcastically.
"Look," Skipper started slowly, "Dave, this . . . it was a mistake. We were supposed to be back at the zoo not too long after midnight, but we got lost and ended up somewhere in Tribeca. Luckily, Kowalski was able to navigate our way back. But as the night dragged on, we started getting really tired and had to rest several times, and we had to move at a pace that would keep us from getting caught by the humans."
Tribeca. Boy, was I way off.
I sighed and ran an arm over my face and closed my eyes. "Do you know what I've been through tonight?" I asked, looking down at them. "I have been running around the city looking for you since before midnight. So even if you had returned when you expected, I would've already been out looking for you. I've rested not once since I realized you four were gone. I've dealt with angry drivers, pedestrians, and even this stupid, mangy squirrel in McCarren Park! When I started heading back to the zoo, I felt defeated. All this time I spent looking for you only to return empty-handed. I was terrified that I would come back to an empty habitat, that you wouldn't be there when I returned. I almost did, if I hadn't been in the right place at the right time."
The penguins looked down at the ground, failing to find a response.
"I just want to know why," I said slowly. "Why did you just leave me like that? Knowing that I strictly forbade you to go wander about the city without me. I'm not quite so sure I can trust you anymore."
Skipper spoke, but didn't look at me. "It's just that we're big kids now. We can take care of ourselves. It's nothing personal."
I laughed half-heartedly and they looked at me. "Big kids. Being 'big kids' doesn't mean you're capable of taking care of yourselves. You don't know the half of what it is to take care of yourselves. This experience should've taught you that, but I guess I was wrong." I watched as they searched for a response. My fatigue caught up with me and I gathered them into my arms with a sigh.
"I'm too tired to discuss this further. You guys probably are, too. We're gonna need some sleep before the zoo opens in a few hours."
In silence, we made our way back to the zoo. I trudged through the habitats, not caring who saw us because I was just too tired. I pulled us over the fence and set the penguins down on their island.
"I'll see you guys later," I said before diving under and sinking through the water.
I think I fell asleep before I hit the bottom, because that was the last thing I remembered.
— § —
Note: The quotes used in this chapter were, "The human world is a mess," spoken by Sebastian (portrayed by Samuel E. Wright) in The Little Mermaid (1989); "You think you can do these things but you just can't, Nemo!" spoken by Marlin (portrayed by Albert Brooks) in Finding Nemo (2003), with Nemo replaced with Skipper; "Hey, I'm walking here!" spoken by Ratso (portrayed by Dustin Hoffman) in Midnight Cowboy (1969); and "Oh, it was easy, really. I just listened to the sound of complete and utter betrayal and followed that," spoken by Mother Gothel (portrayed by Donna Murphy) in Tangled (2010). Dave referring to New Yorkers as "rude and frightened people" was a subtle reference to a line spoken by Alex (portrayed by Ben Stiller) in Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa (2008). Gladys was a reference to the character from the Penguins of Madagascar TV Series.
Next chapter will be posted on 07/28/2023
