Penguin strike force

Oh, this mind of mine. Phil Plait posts about a big iceberg in Australian waters; and a few minutes later I’ve left the below as a comment there:

And on the floater, a penguin with a monocle and a sneer is saying: “Remember, troops: The Australians are a wily bunch. Don’t get snookered by the drop bear line; just go straight for the stomach, then head for the zoo gate. Don’t get all sentimental because they’re humans; they’re vicious gun’s-sons, they. Don’t forget getting our king back is why we started this iceberg endeavor, and it’s what we’re gonna do.”

“How we’re gonna get back, boss?” a junior penguin squawks. The terror of being stranded in Sydney is plain in his eyes, though the antarctic-white balaclava hides his expression.

The leader frowns, or makes the equivalent penguinine expression, and waves a wing dismissively. “Sydney Air Force base. We break in and steal a few Aardvark strike fighters. Why do you think we waited half a year and had Flapper and Coldbeak sent to Russia for pilot training? Speed is of essence, and you don’t want to try to outfly a Hornet on your own, chick my boy! Now, we have a mole inside the zoo that says —“

I think next the spy report would be interrupted by Smock, the electronics expert penguin, who’s detected the NASA satellites following them; a fierce debate on “They wouldn’t nuke us from space, would they? They would! Let’s swim for it!” follows, resolved only when Monocle St. John Ross-Shelf, the expedition leader, decapitates the craven coward Happyfoot in ritual single combat. Some ninety pages later this leads to young, heroic, and tragically inexperienced Calve Glaciersson piloting one of the escape planes; his mistake sends it into a dive that takes out the Australian parliament and triggers a full-scale nuclear confrontation and conflagration between the nations of penguin and man.

What?

I do too have good ideas for children’s books!

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