Fandom: Penguins of Madagascar
Characters: Titular Penguins, Hans the Puffin, Marlene Amarillo Kidd, mentions of Manfredi and Johnson, Jiggles
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'll give them back clean and de-humanized when I'm done, mm-kay?
Warnings: AU, Humanized, slightly strong language, dark in spots, violence, threats, slashy points, I don't know how Roulette works... other stuff, Marlene makes fun of how Private talks, blah blah blah
"Drop the croissant and you don't get hurt." Behind his glasses, Kowalski's eye twitched a little. Hans Søpapegøjer showing up in the middle of breakfast to steal his food was not something to be tolerated. He kept the gun's sights leveled on Søpapegøjer's torso and plucked the helpless pastry from the offending Dane's hand. "Don't steal my food. Steal somebody else's."
Kowalski glared at the gnome. The gnome just stared back with its enigmatic facial expression. Skipper looked between the two. "Kowalski, leave the gnome alone, it didn't do anything."
"Not yet, Skipper, not yet it hasn't. Gnomes are evil."
"Describe the scenario for me, Marlene," Private said. Marlene just laughed. "What? What's so funny?"
In between fits of laughter, Marlene replied, "You! You said sen-AR-io. It's sen-air-Io. That's so funny." Private was not amused.
24 Leg pain
Kowalski didn't realize that what he thought was simply a pulled muscle in his leg was something torn. He had moved wrong and landed on his side, right leg in an unholy amount of pain. It kept him out of several missions, including the one where Manfredi and Johnson were killed and Skipper was traumatized for life.
As far as Kowalski was concerned, it was all his fault.
"Anybody else wanting to bet? No? Well then...," Private said, spinning the roulette wheel. "Black 17. It's yours, sir." He pushed the stack of betting chips towards the young man wearing a cowboy hat.
"Thank ye kindly, Mr. Tux," the young man said, lifting up the brim of his hat.
Private narrowed his eyes. "Amarillo Kidd. I wondered if I'd see you here." Inwardly, Private was slightly worried that the Texan would blow his cover, but Kidd only winked.
"If possible, I'd like to talk to you after your shift," Kidd stated. Private nodded. The look in Kidd's eyes had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.
Jiggles bobbled back and forth, waiting for his supper. Kowalski was a good master he always fed Jiggles on time.
Hans Søpapegøjer sat in the back corner of his cell. Only hours previously had the criminal underworld learned of his stance as a deep cover agent. By this point, he figured, his captors would be torn between simply executing him and torturing him before they killed him. Hearing a noise, Hans looked up, trying to pinpoint the location from which the sound came. Upon realizing just where the sound was coming from, he stiffly stood up and jerkily moved from his corner to the one opposite it.
"It's about time," he said, smiling faintly at his rescuers.
Skipper just smirked and pulled an unsteady Hans through the escape tunnel.
All of them understood. It was only temporary. Søpapegøjer would have to go into hiding if only to live. It was only until his wounds were healed. Two days after a physician declared him fit to move about again, he disappeared.
Skipper and Kowalski stood back to back, surrounded by enemies. All of them were wearing the same dull uniform. And they all had the same eerily blank eyes.
Neither of them would believe it if they hadn't seen it for their very own. The scarred kid had pulled a crowbar out of his mouth, a place where a tool that large shouldn't be able to fit. And Skipper saw the terrified insanity in his eyes when he turned towards them it wasn't right. He couldn't have been more than twenty.
Skipper motioned towards the kid and Kowalski instantly understood. They were getting him out of there.