Penny the penguin was waddling back and forth. She was troubled. Percy, her lifelong mate, had been gone longer than usual. He always was a wanderer, but this absence was too long. He was also lazy. Opening his mouth to catch fish was sometimes an effort for him but she loved him, and was worried.
I’ll feed that fool to the seals myself, she thought, shuddering at the very thought of one of those big, fat, ugly seals.
Just then, from the corner of her eye, Penny caught sight of the familiar shuffle, and the not-a-care-in-the-world, look.
She didn’t know whether to rush over and kiss him of plant a king-hit on that dumb looking kisser. Before Penny could do anything though, Percy waddled into her personal space. There was an urgency to his voice she had never heard before. “We got to talk,” Percy said without stopping, “in private,” he added over his shoulder.
“We are alone, you great wobbling fool,” she said glancing around at the other penguins who were neither close nor cared what their neighbours were doing. She had no choice but to follow however.
When Percy finally stopped, she was out of breath. “Where have you been! Demanded an angry Penny. “I’ve been worried sic…”
“… I’ve been talking to a melting icicle,” Percy cut in, casting an eye around, making sure he wasn’t being overheard.
That stopped Penny in her tracks. “What? You’ve been with that Whack-Whack again. You know why he lives alone?”
“No, Penny,” replied the very serious penguin, “this was God talking through a melting icicle.”
“You’re an idiot,” Penny snapped, she’d had enough.
“I swear Penny,” said the male penguin earnestly, “he told he’d normally use a burning bush but since we don’t have bushes it would look weird to just create one.”
“Yes Percy, talking to a burning bush would have looked peculiar. Not like talking to a hanging strip of melting ice.” She said rolling her eyes again. “Anyway,” she went on before Percy could respond, “what did the melting icicle say?”
“We need to take a trip Penny. We have been chosen.”
“Chosen? By the melting ice-block … that talks?”
Percy overlooked the smart-Alec remark. “Yes Penny. You and me. We will be the ones repopulating our species. You’ll be the Mother of Penguins!”
“Oh, why didn’t you say,” Penny said turning away. “You’ve been eating rotten fish again. You’re hallucinating. What did I tell you abut that the last time …”
“… No Penny.” Percy shouted. “I am serious.”
He is serious, Penny thought. “Alright, Percy, what will happen to all penguins in the world?”
Percy leaned in. “They will drown.”
“They can swim, you jackass.” Snapped, Penny.
“Penny please, god said. There will be a great flood but you and me will be saved. We got to go and meet a man called Noah and get on his boat before the rains come.”
“Yes. He is building a boat as we speak.”
“Who else is going?”
“Penguins? Just you and me. But god did say two of each species.”
“You’re going to trust living with a seal? On a boat? Built by who ever this Noah is?”
Again, Percy nodded.
“Why didn’t this captain Noah call us himself?”
“Didn’t have a melting icicle, I suppose, I don’t know Penny!” Percy was getting impatient. Time was of the essence and Penny was being silly.
“So where are we going?”
“Where far away, Percy?”
“A place called the Middle East. We’ll have to swim across an ocean and cross a desert.”
“What’s a desert?”
“I don’t know Penny, but it’s like when the sun gets hot here sometimes, only hotter. Hot. You know.”
“How we going to the stand hot? We live in the cold. It’s our home. Or haven’t you noticed the ice, Percy? What are we going to eat in the hot? Is there fish in the hot?”
“Are there hills and mountains and things?” Penny wanted detail.
“Why do you think we waddle, Percy?”
This is one of her trick questions, Percy thought. “Because we have short legs?” He answered dubiously.
Penny clapped and did a little penguin jig. “That’s right, Percy. If I had a small fish I’d give it to you as prize.”
Percy smiled a relieved smile. But not for long.
“How are we going to climb Mountains, you icicle listening, fish munching, flip?”
He took a deep breath. “God said he’d provide.”
“That’s alright than,” Penny said sarcastically. “The melting icicle told you that.”
“And when we get off this this boat, then what?”
Percy smiled a mischievous smile. “We have sex. Lots of sex! We copulate. We rut. We DO IT! Often!”
Penny rolled her eyes yet again. “You can’t do it more than once a mating season. Why do you think we’re chickless?”
“No need to bring that up, Penny. The Lord will provide.”
Penny slapped him. “You’re an idiot.”
Percy rubbed his cheek. “Let’s go Penny.”
“How far is it again?”
“Very far. We’ve got to hurry. We have seven days.”
“Seven days? You serious?”
“But Percy, how are we going to swim across an ocean, walk through the hot, avoid many things that want to kill us, find this Noah and his stupid boat, get aboard, survive living with all those hungry animals, get off, repeat the trip back and then repopulate our entire population … what are going to eat?”
Percy smiled. “The Lord will provide Penny.”
And so they went. And they made it. And the penguins were repopulated in multitudes in a very short time.
And anyone not believing my story … hang your head in shame you heathens. I got it straight from my mulberry tree.