The Town of Fracs

It was night at Fracs. The rain fell hard as though its mission was to wipe the little town off the map. The droplets hit the ground in a staccato pitter-patter rivaled only by the rapid thumping of Mumble's feet.

Thump-a thump-a thump-a thump-a...

His orange feet were a blur as he shuffled across the floor. Mumble allowed himself a small spark of pleasure for his talent. How many penguins in Fracs could tap dance?

Mumble was far too busy congratulating himself to notice the wall, so it came as a great surprise to him when his foot connected with it. "Ow! Hell!" He fell to the ground with a bump, clutching his injured foot to him and muttering curses. That's enough dancing for a little while, Mumble thought. He got shakily to his feet and limped to the window of his igloo, watching the rain dance on the snow and ice. It hardly ever rained in Fracs; it was far too cold. The raindrops usually turned to snow before they could touch the ground.

I think I should take a walk, Mumble decided. He liked the rain on the rare times it would fall. He stepped outside into the deluge.

The cold rain felt good on Mumble's stubbed foot, which quickly became hot and began to sting. He tilted his head up, allowing the icy torrent to wash over his face and fill his feathers with all the secrets of winter. At least there's no thunder, Mumble thought. He never did like thunder. It was too loud; it kept him from thinking.

As soon as the water started to run into his beak, Mumble decided to stop mooning around and start on his walk. Waddling down the slick sidewalk, he took a great interest in watching the other penguins and their pitiful attempts to escape the downpour. It's water, you idiots, not acid. Mumble rolled his eyes. They called him weird, what with his dark demeanor and aloof attitude, and here they were, running from the rain as though it was liquid fire.

Humming a low tune under his breath, Mumble began to shuffle again, stubbed foot forgotten. He was none the wiser about dancing on slick surfaces however. As soon as he stepped on a patch of ice, his feet suddenly went out from under him, and he landed hard on the ground. As if to add insult to injury, as he fell, he landed on another sheet of ice, and off he went down the sidewalk, sliding on his back and steadily picking up speed. His progress was immediately halted by the unfortunate placement of a street lamp at the end of the curb.

"I guess I didn't need my head anymore anyway," he moaned, rubbing his head ruefully from where it had connected with the lamp. The town began to spin around him as he tried to struggle to his feet, but he only succeeded in slipping again.

"Stupid ice." Mumble managed to stand this time, clutching the post and shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear the fuzziness.

It was when he decided to go home to recuperate from this chain of domestic accidents that he heard the high-pitched scream.

"I'M DROWNING!"

What the hell? Mumble thought. He flipped around to see where the scream had come from.

There was a penguin, flailing around in a... storm drain. She was thrashing about like a fish out of water, eyes wrenched shut, beak wide open. The water only reached up to her wings, but anyone would have thought she was in over her head by the way she was squalling.

Mumble blinked a couple of times before he began to think logically again. I'm just hallucinating because i hit my head too hard, he reasoned. I'll just go home, kick back, relax, have some sushi, and I won't see any more penguins drowning in storm drains. He had just turned around when he heard the scream again.

"OH MY PENGUIN GOD!"

Mumble halted. He looked straight up at the stormcloud-cluttered sky as though the answer would be written there, and then he slowly turned around.

The penguin was still writhing in the storm drain. As pathetic as her attempts to get out of the water were, she honestly did seem terrified. Even though Mumble couldn't remember when exactly he had fallen down the rabbit hole, he reached down and tried to grab her.

As soon as he touched her, her efforts of floundering redoubled. "A KILLER WHALE!" she screamed.

Mumble's head slowly tipped to one side. Good, I'm not the only delusional penguin in Fracs. Hoping her insanity wasn't contagious, he ignored her threshing about and scooped her up, depositing her on the ground, where she lay hacking violently.

"Don't eat me, killer whale!" she coughed. "Although you're going to anyway."

Then why ask me not to?

"OH MY PENGUIN GOD! Whales can breathe out of water!" she gasped, and her eyes flew open: one was violet, the other a deep sky blue. After an awkward, extended silence, in which both penguins just looked at each other, the female let out yet another shriek, rupturing Mumble's eardrums and destroying any sense of hearing he may have had left.

"Stop!" Mumble yelled, clapping her beak shut with his wings in an attempt to stop the terrible sound. "Why are you screaming about whales?" he asked a moment later, releasing her beak so she could answer him.

"Don't try to deny it!" she accused him in a squeaky voice. "I know what you really are! You're just a killer whale in a penguin suit!"

"Ah? You like my tux? That's good; I picked it up at Five Seasons," Mumble said cockily. Instantly he realized that this was the wrong thing to say, as the girl let out another brain-shattering scream.

Call it a sixth sense, but Mumble somehow knew that this was just the beginning of a really bad day.