The King Penguins were totally into it…
“Uncle! Uncle!” I cried. I was held to the ground; face down, ass up as usual. But this time the safety word wasn’t working. A gigantic Weaner had flopped on to my arm and pinned me. I squirmed, but it was no use, I was stuck.
“Oh you are just disgusting,” said my Mother condescendingly. The penguins looked up at her, annoyed for disrupting the show. “Look at you, all covered in goo!” I blushed, this was not a position I ever wanted my Mom to catch me in.
“Blech!” she said, walking off down the icy beach, leaving me trapped with this hairy, smelly thing. I lay there motionless with my face in the sand. The penguins stared like this was some kind of porno.
“What are you looking at?” I yelled.
“Juvenile elephant seals are referred to as ‘Weaners,’ because they’ve just been weaned by their mothers,” a South African expedition leader tells me. “So they are very affectionate, and they often just fall asleep on you.”
That’s great information, I thought, but it doesn’t exactly help me does it. WHAM! Another Weaner flopped on to my back, pinning the rest of my body. I always wanted to be popular, but this was ridiculous. “Um… I’m kind of getting ganged here!” I wailed. The penguins got really excited. I continued to lay there, pondering my exit strategy and wondering why I came to Antarctica in the first place.
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