The Penguin

What? What's going on? Eh? Oh, you. Ah, is it time for that damn introduction already? Flubbergusted winthrop poptoodle. Er, I mean, let's get started so I can get back to drinking.

So, I was born a normal penguin, my mom was a little loose so I'm not sure who my dad was. But I can tell ya this: he wasn't superman. In Penguin School, the other kids used to make fun of me cause I was smart. I ignored em, of course, cause I learned about the drink early. So I didn't care about much.

That picture up top was me after a hell of a night drinking. I was a little fluffier then

The one to the right was me...thinking I was superman...before...

...trying to jump off the highest cliff near our village. I think this was my sophomore year of college.

Anyhoo, after school, I was known as the town drunk. I was chased out of the arctic and told I was never welcome back. After stumbling and bumbling about for about two years, I made my way to this weird deserty place, and they were building a rocket to go up into space. I waddled by, they grabbed me up, threw a space suit on me, and locked me in the rocket. Lucky for me I was wearing my fat feathers, so I had a bunch of alcohol hidden on me.

Well, the next thing I know, I'm being shot up into space and used as a guinea pig. I didn't like that at all, so I turned the tables on em. I figured out the controls and flew the damn thing to Mars, and just chilled out while those silly little scientists freaked out. Then I flew the rocket back randomly one day, like nothing ever happened. Landed the thing like a champ, and all those smart ass scientists and astronauts were shocked as hell...

So, I convinced them to load up the rocket with alcohol and pizza rolls, and in return, I'd go back into space for regular missions where I'd report back everything I saw. Turns out, I'm a helluva lot more useful than the humans they've been sending up. Not that I would have doubted that for a minute, but...nevermind. In any case, that's how I got my name. The Drunken Space Penguin. I was always out of place and awkward, with a hidden talent, and though I do my thing my own unconventional way, I do it damn well.

Oh, and as for Ashley? Well, she was just a lowly little writer struggling to find her way in the world when I accidentally sent my transmission to her Skype. Boy, was that confusing for us BOTH! Hehehe. That was when I told her that she would be my blogger, blog everything awesome for me, and we'd reap the rewards together. She hasn't sent me the first payment of our profit yet, though I'm sure she will soon. She's a good gal. You guys would tell me if she was holding out on me, right???

Alright, alright, enough of this crap. I got a bottle here just callin' my name, and I gotta fly the rocket later tonight, so I need to get my drink on now. If y'all need anything else, just ask Ashley, and she'll get it taken care of. And for goodness' sake, keep the racket down, I've got a splitting headache!!

-The Penguin

No comments:

Post a Comment