Eskimo
Written by: Quantum HumanDawn in the northern lands comes about once a year. In fact, it takes several days just for the sun to rise. This particular week-long dawn had caught Cheese the Eskimo in a very foul mood. You see, Cheese isn't much of a “morning person.” In fact, one might say he's more of a “never person.” As in, there's no good time to wake up. But, one can see how it could be hard to sleep through an entire month of morning-ness, so Cheese was up far too early for his taste.
He pushed open the door to his luxury igloominium and squinted into the rising sun, grumbling something about how it was in exactly the wrong position to be in one's eye and would probably be there for about ten days. Kicking a penguin out of his way, he stumbled out into the snow, where he promptly slipped on the remains of the fish that the penguin had been happily munching on and fell face-first into another penguin. Shoving this penguin out of his way, he attempted to push himself back up onto his feet, only to discover that his hands kept grasping penguins, which are notoriously difficult to push oneself up on.
Cheese, with a mighty heave, flipped himself onto his back, whereupon a penguin immediately jumped onto his stomach and began pecking at the bottle of Dr. Pepper enclosed within his massive duct-tape parka. “Shoo, goddammit!” shrieked Cheese, whacking the penguin into a nearby mound of penguins. Righting himself, he brushed a few chunks of fishy bits off of his parka, then looked about. “Penguins to the south, more penguins in the south, even more penguins off to the south... wait, every direction's south from here. And there's penguins in every direction!”
Yea, and I say to thee, there were Penguins in each and every way one might look, Penguins as far as any man's Eye might See, shadowing the great lands of snow with their mighty... penguin... things. Cheese gaped in horror. “WHERE THE HELL DID ALL THESE PENGUINGS COME FROM?” A passing penguin looked up at Cheese as if to reply, but he kicked it in the face before it could say anything. The penguin slid away on the ice, careening off several other penguins, before finally coming to rest in front of a two-story-tall giant box.
Squinting into the blurred half-risen sun, Cheese pondered the existence of this featureless, massive box which was the only non-snow-ish thing to be seen for miles. The side facing him was blank, as were the two other sides, he could see, so he walked around to the back. On the back of the box was a large ramp, connecting an opening about fifteen feet up from the side of the box to the ground. He estimated its width at about six penguins, because that's how wide the neverending ranks of penguins were marching. Out of the box they flowed, down to the arctic floor and out into the blasted landscape. Cheese ran up to the box, shoving his way through regiments of black-and-white feathery bodies, until he reached the very top. Peering inside, he could discern nothing but darkness. Softly, a voice came from the black space in front of him.
“Cheese.”
“...What? What are you? What do you want? What the hell is up with all of these penguins?”
“Cheese, come closer.”
“Dammit, I can't see where you are!”
“Then turn the light on.”
“...Oh.” Reaching off to the right side of the darkened room, Cheese groped about and found a lightswitch. Flicking it, he could suddenly see a huge, stark room, filled with thousands of penguins in cages. Across the room, on a brushed steel throne, sat a man in a very shabby-looking penguin costume.
“Okay, now who the hell are you and why are you dumping these penguins out here?”
“I am the Penguin.”
“Oh, THAT'S original. I'm surprised Burgess Meredith hasn't tracked down this Fortress of Penguin-ness and kicked your sorry ass. Now get out of my... snowdrift... place!”
“But my penguins...”
“OUT!!!” Cheese roared mightily, rushing the hideous little man and smacking him upside the head with a large fish deftly stolen from a penguin feasting nearby. The demi-penguin flipped backwards over his throne, propelled by Cheese's uber-fish-slap, knocking himself unconscious on a pile of penguins behind the seat. Cheese discarded the fish, lowering himself into the chair.
“Well, so much for him... but what about all of these... hey! A conveniently placed Penguin Recall and Self-Destruct Button! I'll press that!” So he did. The titanic box began to shake and rumble, emitting a sound that was disturbingly close to the sound one's mother makes when one is in trouble, and all of the penguins began rushing back to their penguin-mobile-crate-thing. Cheese barely managed to shove his way out through the throng of penguins, but eventually he got out of the box and dashed away, to watch from the safety of his home.
As the last penguin entered the crate, the ramp folded up into the box and the aperture shut. An even greater rumbling began, and the box lifted skyward, faster and faster, finally exploding in a huge shower of sparks and unidentifiable penguin bits. Cheese grinned and turned away from the window, walking over to his favorite armchair and sitting down.
“So much for those penguins.”
The penguin on the bed clucked in agreement.