"I’ve always had this problem, you know," said Pete. "I tend to annoy people. I hope I’m not annoying you."

The penguin merely blinked, and shuffled its feet awkwardly. It had no idea what to say to this person. It didn’t even know why he was here. In the end, everyone came to the penguin. It was its lot in life. The person seemed to be talking again.

"I’m sorry if I’m annoying you…but I have so many problems…you see, back when I was young, I was always being hit on the head. And not just by people, no, I was being hit by anything. Rocks would jump up and smack me, and occasionally birds would just attack me. I never understood what it was about, I just accepted it. I think that’s one of my problems…I accept anything and everything. What do you think?"

The penguin cocked its head, and stared.

"Yeah, you’re probably right. I should be more assertive, but it just doesn’t work that way, at least not with me. I mean, I want to have friends…but all the people I meet run in terror when I start talking to them. I can’t understand it!"

Blinking incredulously, the bird preened itself to hide its disbelief. I wonder why he can’t see the problem, it thought to itself. It seems rather obvious. I’m sure there can’t be too many other beings out there with an inside-out shark’s head in place of their own.

"I don’t think I look too horribly bad…I’m frankly amazed anyone can find me unattractive!"

The penguin snickered.

"I mean, wouldn’t everyone want to look like me? I’m all buff and everything! I work out every day, and I read all the right magazines!"

This is astounding. He thinks a decent body will make him popular. He doesn’t pay attention to his single most noticeable flaw. This must be a human, no matter what his appearance is.

"I have the strange feeling that you’re mocking me…I’m wondering why that is. I came to you with a problem, after all. The least you could do is listen with patience. Actually, the least you could do is respond with wisdom – why do you just sit there?"

The penguin, at this point, really wished it could shrug. Unfortunately, the closest it could manage was to look at its feet and shift apologetically from one to the other. When it looked back up, Pete was glaring at it.

"What sort of reaction was that?! Shuffling your feet? Looking at the ground? You’d better be ashamed – you’re the only friend I’ve ever had, and I’ve only had you as a friend for 5 minutes! What the hell’s your problem, anyway? You think you’re too good to talk to me? Is that it? Or are you jealous? I’ll bet that’s it…you think I’m too good for you. Well, I’m not. I’m not any better than you. So talk to me, dammit!"

Look, thought the penguin irritably, even if I wanted to communicate with you now – which I don’t – I couldn’t because you don’t have the right frame of mind to listen. That’s your real problem – you just never shut up and THINK. At this point, instinct prevailed, and the penguin fluffed itself up, attempting to scare the bloody nuisance known as Pete away.

"What does that mean? Answer me! Dammit…" Pete sighed. "Alright…you clearly AREN’T my friend, despite what you lead me to believe. That disappoints me. I should kick you, I really should."

Bewilderment reigned on the penguin’s face.

"But because you at least pretended to be my friend, I won’t."

Well, that’s a bloody relief. The penguin settled its feathers again, but kept at the ready in case this creature attempted to inflict bodily harm.

"I just really wish you’d answer me…just once…please? Talk? I’ll leave if you do…"

If it could have sighed, it would have. Alright, Pete…you asked for it. I’ll talk, but I can guarantee you won’t like it…

Ruffling its feathers, the penguin stood upright to its full impressive four-foot height, and readied itself for the task at hand.

"SQUAWKribbleribbleribblegloooooobritch-itch-itch-itch-itchHLORPH!"

Pete stared for a moment, then frowned. "Well, that was no bloody help to me." And then he turned, angrily, and headed off.

The penguin watched the mutated human stomp angrily over the horizon, and opened its beak once more. "What a queer fellow."

"I’m inclined to agree," said a nearby rock, and instinctively hurled itself at the retreating figure.

Michael Martin