Penguin Pandemonium

“It’s… very hard to describe,” said Rory, hoping that an idea would magically come to him.

Blue tapped her small, pink foot impatiently.

“You don’t have an idea, do you? I know when you’re lying – your nostrils bubble.”

Rory came out of his hutch wiping his beak.

“No, they don’t… Oh, all right, I haven’t come up with anything but it was impossible to think last night. All the animals were making such a noise.”

“I didn’t sleep either,” admitted Blue.

By closing time the evening before, the news about the zoo shutting down had spread way beyond the penguin pool.

The bears told the pigeon, the pigeon told the squirrel, and although the squirrel told the elephant not to breathe a word, he was big enough to do whatever he pleased and immediately sounded his trumpet to alert the lions.

Once the lions got wind of it, the whole world knew. They roared so loudly, their relatives could hear them in deepest Africa. Through a relay of barks, squeaks, squawks and grunts, the word spread around the globe and by dawn, the whole of the animal kingdom from the smallest bug to the baleen whale knew about the fate of City Zoo.

By now, the penguins were very worried about where they might end up. There were tales spread by certain bears that there wouldn’t be room in the other zoos for all of them and they would be taken abroad and released back into the wild.

Unfortunately, none of the penguins knew much about the countries their own species came from and their imaginations were running riot. Apart from their boss, Big Paulie the emperor penguin, they had all been bred in captivity. Blue’s old enemy Muriel, who belonged to a girly gang of fairy penguins, was particularly upset.

“Oh my cod, I am not going to live in the wild!” she stamped. “I need my creature comforts. They’re treating us like animals.”

“What if they send me to Australia?” worried Blue. “Do koala bears eat penguins?”

“Yes, they do,” insisted Muriel. “Penguins are their main diet. It’ll be even worse for Rory though. He’ll be sent to Chile to live with wild rockhoppers.”

“What’s so bad about Chile?” asked Rory.

“It’s in the name, squidiot,” she groaned. “It’s called Chile because it’s chilly. You’ll freeze to death in seconds. You’re not used to the climate.”

She prodded the two anxious little penguins standing next to her.

“I’m right, aren’t I, Brenda and Hatty? Chile is chilly. Not that Hatty would feel it through all her blubber.”

Brenda and Hatty, who would rather be eaten by koalas than shouted at by Muriel, nodded enthusiastically.

“Very chilly,” said Hatty.

“Brrrrr,” shivered Brenda.

Although the penguins were anxious at the idea of being left to fend for themselves in foreign parts, it didn’t seem to bother Orson.

“Ah, stuff the zoo,” he said. “So what if it closes? I’m sick of being cooped up on a fake mountain, day in, day out. Yee ha! I’m going back to Canada. I’ve got a cousin there. I’ll call him on my new mobile when it arrives and tell him to make up the spare bed.”

“You’re getting a mobile?” scoffed Muriel. “Yeah right.”

“I heard it with my own ears,” said Ursie. “Savannah said the K135 was for Orson.”

Rory, who’d heard differently, felt it was only fair to put them straight.

“She said the K135 was awesome, not for Orson.”

There was an embarrassed silence, punctuated with explosive tittering from Muriel, but Orson shrugged it off.

“So I won’t phone Canada, I’ll just turn up and say howdy. I can’t wait! I’m going to run through the woods and catch wild salmon and…”

“I don’t think so,” said Ursie. “You run like an overstuffed teddy, you can’t catch and salmon brings your bottom out in a rash. You wouldn’t last five minutes in the Rockies.”

Panic was breaking out all over the zoo from the reptile house to the aquarium. The crocodile was scared he’d end up as a handbag if he was sent to Egypt, the spitting cobra’s mouth went dry at the thought of being stuffed into a basket by an Indian snake charmer, the rhino was afraid he’d be poached in Africa, the camel was frightened he’d fry in Arabia and the warthog was so certain he’d be roasted wherever he went, he rolled in his own dung to make himself taste nasty.

When the zoo opened its gates later that morning, the few visitors who had bothered to come were very disappointed to find that most of the animals were not on display – they were hiding in fear of their lives.

The meerkats had gone underground, the leopard skulked into the back of his cave and even the hippo managed to disappear by holding his breath underwater. If he hadn’t blown off like a thunderclap and given away his position with a string of bubbles no one would have known he was there.

“This zoo is rubbish!” cried a small boy. “I can’t see any penguins!”

The penguins were there, but they were all hiding behind a fake cliff waiting for Big Paulie to lead them in a crisis meeting. For some reason, however, Big Paulie hadn’t turned up. Every time the penguins had had a problem in the past, the mighty emperor penguin had sorted it. He’d been around for as long as anyone could remember.

He’d originally come from Antarctica and as he’d travelled by plane, he always joked that he was the only penguin capable of flight. If the stories were to be believed, Big Paulie was so tough, he could dive five hundred metres under the sea without his head exploding. He was so hard, he once trekked one hundred kilometres across the icy wastes without food. He was so brave, he’d rescued his own father from the jaws of a killer whale. No wonder the other penguins were a little scared of him.

“It’s good that he’s scary, Rory,” Blue had once explained. “Remember the terrible Battle of Nesting Box between the rockhoppers and the chinstraps? If they’d had no respect for Paulie, they’d still be fighting over where to make their nests. And what about the time he protected the emperor chicks from an escaped baboon? If it hadn’t been scared of Paulie, it might have killed us all.”

But time was ticking on, there was still no sign of Paulie and the penguins were getting impatient.

“It’s unusual for him to be late,” muttered Waldo, one of the chinstrap penguins. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him for a while. I wonder if there’s some sort of crisis?”

“Duh!” groaned Muriel. “There’s a zoo-closing crisis. Does Paulie even know about it? If he won’t come to us, we’ll have to go to him, unless you ninnies have a better idea?”

“Rory has!” said Blue proudly. “He’s thinking of a plan to save the zoo.”

All the penguins shuffled round and stared at him hopefully.

“Let’s hear it then,” said Muriel, folding her flippers.

“Maybe later?” said Rory. “It still needs a little working on.”

But Muriel wasn’t prepared to wait.

“Here’s my plan, you go and ask Paulie for help. Everybody get behind Rory!”

“You can go in front if you like,” said Rory, but all the penguins formed an orderly line and waited for him to lead the way to Paulie’s Palace. At this time of day, Big Paulie could usually be found working-out in his courtyard – he was famous for his one-flipper press-ups and had an amazing six-pack for a penguin – but when they got there, there was no sign of him.

“He’s gone out,” said Rory, relieved. “Let’s come back tomorrow.”

“Try knocking, bird-brain,” said Muriel, rapping on the door. At the sound of footsteps, she pushed Rory forward. As the boss appeared, everyone else drew back, shocked by how scruffy Paulie looked. His head feathers were sticking out like a punk rocker’s and he smelled terrible.

“Eugh, what are those things stuck to his vest?” whispered Muriel. “Mouldy sequins?”