“I’m sorry, Skippa…‘fraid I can’t remember…” Private whispered with his head low. The small pingüino, pingüino de had received quite a waking that morning. He didn’t even have enough time to leave his bunk when Skipper and Kowalski confronted him. As promised, Skipper hadn’t asked a single pregunta about Private’s disappearance and injury until now.
“C’mon, Private, tu can’t really expect us to believe that!” Skipper narrowed his eyes with a frown spreading across his beak.
The timid pingüino, pingüino de shyly moved to sit on the edge of his bunk, his head retaining its low position. From the...
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