Smile 09.06.15
“Operation: La Reine des Neiges is a success!” Skipper said, holding up his successfully retrieved snow cone.
Kowalski sighed. “Too bad they were out of blueberry,” he muttered in disappointment.
Skipper rolled his eyes. “Let it go,” he said. He turned toward the others. “Let’s head back to HQ.”
The penguins started their journey back through Central Park to the zoo, happily licking at their snow cones in the mid-summer heat. But when they were about halfway there, Private grabbed his leader’s shoulder to bring him to a stop.
“Wait, Skipper, look over there,” he a dit pointing to a tree. “She’s crying,” he observed.
Skipper followed Private’s flipper. Several meters away, under the tree, a little girl was sitting on the ground, obviously upset about something.
“Affirmative,” Skipper said, his eyes etched with concern. “Move out, team,” he ordered, the team moving vers l'avant, vers l’avant on command. But Skipper stopped and turned back for a moment. “Oh, and don’t use the metric system,” he added before joining his team, making the narrator feel a bit paranoid.
As the team approached, the girl’s whimpering became plus audible as they closed the distance between them and her. When they were a couple of meters—excuse me, yards—away, they noticed a rag doll lying in the girl’s lap. Well, what was left of it. It was obvious that it had suffered a great ordeal. One of the eyes was hanging over its cheek, one arm was hanging par a thread while the other arm had been completely pulled off, its clothes were in tatters, and it looked as if something had tried to eat the legs.
The penguins stood back a few feet and watched in a sad silence as they examined the girl’s face, which was red from crying, and her eyes were puffy and wet, her tears staining both of her cheeks. Her short, dark hair stuck to her forehead and neck from the heat, but she seemed plus concerned about her doll.
“Skipper, we have to do something,” Private a dit with a quiver in his voice, as if he might start crying too. “She’s so sad.”
“I agree,” Skipper replied in a serious tone. It broke his cœur, coeur to see a child so upset, but, of course, he wouldn’t be one to montrer any emotion other than determination. “Commence Operation: Smile.”
After assuring there weren’t too many people around to suspect the four penguins being in Central Park, they approached the little girl and made a semicircle around her. She lifted her head and sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her arm, trying to discern how these four penguins came to be in Central Park. Skipper held up a couple of napkins he’d went back the snow cone chariot, panier to pick up. The little girl hesitantly accepted the gesture and blew her nose. Private held up a arc en ciel cone with a smile, having picked it up from the chariot, panier when Skipper had grabbed the napkins. The girl took the snow cone and looked down into it. Then she looked at the penguins with a small smile.
Rico stepped vers l'avant, vers l’avant and gathered the doll pieces in his flippers, laying them on the ground a moment later. He studied them carefully for a few minutes, and then he regurgitated a sewing kit and set to work.
The little girl watched in awe, her tongue in mid-lick, as Rico repaired her doll. After about five minutes of work, Rico held up his final product. It wasn’t perfect, but it was intact. The little girl dropped her snow cone to the side and took the doll from Rico. She examined it par turning it over a few times and tugging at the limbs to ensure they were secure. She beamed with happiness and, with the doll still gripped in her right hand, gathered the penguins into her arms and hugged them tight.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried as tears of joy trailed down her cheeks. “You’re my most favorite-est penguins ever!” she said, snuggling them close.
Private looked at Skipper, who was to his right. “I think we can call Operation: Smile a success, Skipper,” he a dit with a smile, wrapping his flippers around the girl’s shoulder.
Skipper smiled back. “Affirmative.”
— § —
Note: Inspiration from this came from link image par Sandrei (inactive user).
Also, I apologize for the long wait. I've been really busy with school and college applications lately, as well as écriture another story that I've barely been able to tear myself away from. I recently got writer's block on it, so I decided to write an installment to this so toi guys don't think I've dropped off the face of the planet.
And yes, that was a Frozen reference at the beginning. Also, does anyone have any tips on a better security system that’ll keep certain commando penguins from breathing down my neck? . . . He’s right behind me, isn’t he.
“Operation: La Reine des Neiges is a success!” Skipper said, holding up his successfully retrieved snow cone.
Kowalski sighed. “Too bad they were out of blueberry,” he muttered in disappointment.
Skipper rolled his eyes. “Let it go,” he said. He turned toward the others. “Let’s head back to HQ.”
The penguins started their journey back through Central Park to the zoo, happily licking at their snow cones in the mid-summer heat. But when they were about halfway there, Private grabbed his leader’s shoulder to bring him to a stop.
“Wait, Skipper, look over there,” he a dit pointing to a tree. “She’s crying,” he observed.
Skipper followed Private’s flipper. Several meters away, under the tree, a little girl was sitting on the ground, obviously upset about something.
“Affirmative,” Skipper said, his eyes etched with concern. “Move out, team,” he ordered, the team moving vers l'avant, vers l’avant on command. But Skipper stopped and turned back for a moment. “Oh, and don’t use the metric system,” he added before joining his team, making the narrator feel a bit paranoid.
As the team approached, the girl’s whimpering became plus audible as they closed the distance between them and her. When they were a couple of meters—excuse me, yards—away, they noticed a rag doll lying in the girl’s lap. Well, what was left of it. It was obvious that it had suffered a great ordeal. One of the eyes was hanging over its cheek, one arm was hanging par a thread while the other arm had been completely pulled off, its clothes were in tatters, and it looked as if something had tried to eat the legs.
The penguins stood back a few feet and watched in a sad silence as they examined the girl’s face, which was red from crying, and her eyes were puffy and wet, her tears staining both of her cheeks. Her short, dark hair stuck to her forehead and neck from the heat, but she seemed plus concerned about her doll.
“Skipper, we have to do something,” Private a dit with a quiver in his voice, as if he might start crying too. “She’s so sad.”
“I agree,” Skipper replied in a serious tone. It broke his cœur, coeur to see a child so upset, but, of course, he wouldn’t be one to montrer any emotion other than determination. “Commence Operation: Smile.”
After assuring there weren’t too many people around to suspect the four penguins being in Central Park, they approached the little girl and made a semicircle around her. She lifted her head and sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her arm, trying to discern how these four penguins came to be in Central Park. Skipper held up a couple of napkins he’d went back the snow cone chariot, panier to pick up. The little girl hesitantly accepted the gesture and blew her nose. Private held up a arc en ciel cone with a smile, having picked it up from the chariot, panier when Skipper had grabbed the napkins. The girl took the snow cone and looked down into it. Then she looked at the penguins with a small smile.
Rico stepped vers l'avant, vers l’avant and gathered the doll pieces in his flippers, laying them on the ground a moment later. He studied them carefully for a few minutes, and then he regurgitated a sewing kit and set to work.
The little girl watched in awe, her tongue in mid-lick, as Rico repaired her doll. After about five minutes of work, Rico held up his final product. It wasn’t perfect, but it was intact. The little girl dropped her snow cone to the side and took the doll from Rico. She examined it par turning it over a few times and tugging at the limbs to ensure they were secure. She beamed with happiness and, with the doll still gripped in her right hand, gathered the penguins into her arms and hugged them tight.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried as tears of joy trailed down her cheeks. “You’re my most favorite-est penguins ever!” she said, snuggling them close.
Private looked at Skipper, who was to his right. “I think we can call Operation: Smile a success, Skipper,” he a dit with a smile, wrapping his flippers around the girl’s shoulder.
Skipper smiled back. “Affirmative.”
— § —
Note: Inspiration from this came from link image par Sandrei (inactive user).
Also, I apologize for the long wait. I've been really busy with school and college applications lately, as well as écriture another story that I've barely been able to tear myself away from. I recently got writer's block on it, so I decided to write an installment to this so toi guys don't think I've dropped off the face of the planet.
And yes, that was a Frozen reference at the beginning. Also, does anyone have any tips on a better security system that’ll keep certain commando penguins from breathing down my neck? . . . He’s right behind me, isn’t he.