Refridgerators

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I had some fun today. An activity of my day included the Monte Dolack print up above. My sister had this print in her room growing up and it made us laugh a lot to think about the penguins raiding the fridge. Today's activity asked people to observe the pic first. Then write about what they thought was happening and share out after the writing. Next up came a task to write a brief synopsis of a story based on the pic. Since I was doing this 5 times today, I opted to make my own self-assignment: a progressive story I would add to each time a new group did the synopsis. This is what happens when I consider a print from my childhood and write about it for 10 minutes every hour. All told, maybe an hour's creative writing. 

The tall one said, “We can take care of ourselves. Just because the humans abandoned us doesn’t mean we have to starve. If we can get inside The Hub, then we can forage for some food.”

The leader of the Antarctica clan inquired, “That’s great, Max, but how do we get inside? No thumbs.”

“Not a problem. The red headed human always pushed that button. If we can push that, then we can get inside.”

All of them stopped and looked upward at the circular metal object that meant their survival.

“Or you could just ask for help,” commented a voice from behind the gaggle of penguins. Max turned to see spots. Large, irregular brown spots on amber fur. Moussa, the giraffe, slowly munched on the twigs of a nearby tree as his remark sank in. “If you happen to locate some lettuce, Romaine preferably, would you mind tossing it out here if I were to say, push that button for you?”

“I think that could be arranged,” replied Max. The others nodded their agreement. “Much obliged, Moussa, but I thought the giraffes left days ago.”

“We did, but these trees are delicious. We had to come back.”

“I see,” nodded Max. The tall penguin gestured for the others to move out of Moussa’s way. The gentle giraffe gracefully lowered his head and bumped the disc. Slowly, the door opened.

“Hal, wedge that rock underneath to keep the door from closing. Thanks again, Moussa. Our first job is to find the refrigerator and some lettuce for you.” Moussa languidly stretched his neck to snag more twigs. His jaws grinding back and forth as he watched the penguins waddle one by one into zoo’s visitor’s center.

Once inside, Max appointed teams. The Antarctic clan went to the right. The sect from New Zealand went to the left. Max took those bred in captivity as well as the little ones forward down the main hall. “All right, fan out. When you find the kitchen, whistle and the rest of us will make our way to you.”

The Antarctic brood did not like the way the knotty and knobby floor felt on their feet. Icebergs and snow they could handle, but this oddly irregular and scruffy surface irritated their toes as they explored. Glancing side to side only revealed large, plush bluffs. No kitchen, but the fuzzy pink bergs in the back of the room looked like fun.

The New Zealand penguins proceeded down a tiled hallway. Unfortunately, all the doors were closed. Four in all, the doors all had knobs, not levers. Unless some monkeys made their way to The Hub, the penguins would not be able to figure out what the rooms contained. Most of the rooms were offices and one, the red headed human’s, had a box of energy bars in the lower right-hand desk drawer. Another time that prize might be discovered. Not now though.

A shrill whistle peeled through the air. One of them had found the kitchen!

"Quick everyone. Head this way!" One of the baby penguins toddled as fast as his little penguin feet would carry him as called for everyone to follow him.

Soon they all gathered in the kitchen. The light was still on, but the fridge was closed. Max took action.

"Antarctic penguins: find me a long stick like a yard stick or a broom and bring it here." Since the Antarctic ones were stronger and bigger, they got the job. All the rest could do was wait. They didn't have to wait long before the Antarctic clan returned with a long-handled push broom being pushed by their low to the ground bellies.

"Good work. Now, you there." One of the New Zealand penguins who managed to hop up a nearby footstool and on to the counter turned to acknowledge Max. "Call to Moussa."

Moussa nonchalantly approached the open window where a smaller, but not too small New Zealand penguin was hopping up and down excitedly." Moussa stuck his head in the window. "What is it, Max?"

"We found the ridge, but can you take this broom in your teeth and work it into the handle there?"

"Sure."

"Penguins, fall in!"

The penguins all formed a line from smallest to largest. "Get your flippers under that broom, and lift New Zealanders. Ok, Antarctic and captive ones, walk that broom up so Moussa can grab hold."

Once Moussa had the broom, the penguins waited anxiously  as he threaded the handle through the fridge's handle. He gave the broom bristles a firm nudge and the fridge swung open.

"Ok Pete, do you see some lettuce for Moussa?"

"Got it right here," said the African penguin as he dragged out a bag of lettuce from the crisper using his beak to pull the half eaten head of Romaine.

" Oh good! It's Romaine," reveled Moussa as he bent his head down. The tall one helped Pete push the lettuce up so Moussa's exceptionally long tongue could wrap around the treat and enjoy the morsel.

"All right guys, our turn. Help yourselves. Plenty for everyone," said Max.

Pete, Max's bred in captivity captain, questioned, "That's enough for now, but what about tomorrow?"

"That's a worry for tomorrow, Pete. For now, fill your belly and we'll figure out tomorrow, tomorrow."