SiGNEd ToNy
Raising his small flippers and pressing strenuously upon the swollen large oak doors that let out a hideous crack as they reluctantly yielded under the flailing press of the penguin, the little penguin made his way into the room. "Sir, another note came in the mail" the stout obscure penguin called out, breaking the shrill of silence that permeated within the room.
The man, sitting idly in his plush velvet chair, impassively dropped his hand over the armrest towards in the direction of the small penguin.
The little penguin, mechanically responding without thought, began his slow waddle towards the open hand. Upon reaching his destination, he mindlessly placed the note card within the outstretched hand. The man, embracing a face of cold abandonment, starred off into the distance without displaying so much as an inclination of emotion.
Clasping the card in his hand the man effortlessly raised it to his face and with a brisk clearing of his throat began reading aloud, "The Scorpion and the Frog." He paused for a moment as he passively cast his eyes down upon the penguin that stood motionless beside him; the penguin returned the look with inquiring eyes that beckoned intense interest and desire for the contents of the note. Rolling his eyes back towards the note, the man continued, "A scorpion and a frog meet on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asks the frog to carry him across on its back." Pausing for a moment, the man refocused his eyes upon the note, zealously squinting his eyes. "The frog asks, "How do I know you won't sting me?" The scorpion says, "Because if I do, I will die too." Stopping, partly out of anger, partly out of defiance, the man once again cast his idle eyes upon the penguin that stood attentively by his side. "Well, that sounds reasonable enough" he spoke in a defiant tone that reeked of bitter sarcasm.
"But..." he continued, "The frog is satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stings the frog. The frog feels the onset of paralysis and starts to sink, knowing they both will drown, but has just enough time to gasp "Why?" The man stopped reading and dropped his hand upon the armrest, removing the card from his vision. Without hesitation, and without a hint of emotion, the man recited the final lines from memory, "Replies the scorpion: "It's my nature..."
"Signed, Tony." Crumbing the card in his hand, the man heaved it across the room opposite the penguin. The card fluttered through the air and landed softly in a pile of a hundred or so identical cards, all recanting the same story, all signed Tony.
"Penguin", the man called out.
"Yes?"
"Don't bring me any more cards."
The man, sitting idly in his plush velvet chair, impassively dropped his hand over the armrest towards in the direction of the small penguin.
The little penguin, mechanically responding without thought, began his slow waddle towards the open hand. Upon reaching his destination, he mindlessly placed the note card within the outstretched hand. The man, embracing a face of cold abandonment, starred off into the distance without displaying so much as an inclination of emotion.
Clasping the card in his hand the man effortlessly raised it to his face and with a brisk clearing of his throat began reading aloud, "The Scorpion and the Frog." He paused for a moment as he passively cast his eyes down upon the penguin that stood motionless beside him; the penguin returned the look with inquiring eyes that beckoned intense interest and desire for the contents of the note. Rolling his eyes back towards the note, the man continued, "A scorpion and a frog meet on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asks the frog to carry him across on its back." Pausing for a moment, the man refocused his eyes upon the note, zealously squinting his eyes. "The frog asks, "How do I know you won't sting me?" The scorpion says, "Because if I do, I will die too." Stopping, partly out of anger, partly out of defiance, the man once again cast his idle eyes upon the penguin that stood attentively by his side. "Well, that sounds reasonable enough" he spoke in a defiant tone that reeked of bitter sarcasm.
"But..." he continued, "The frog is satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stings the frog. The frog feels the onset of paralysis and starts to sink, knowing they both will drown, but has just enough time to gasp "Why?" The man stopped reading and dropped his hand upon the armrest, removing the card from his vision. Without hesitation, and without a hint of emotion, the man recited the final lines from memory, "Replies the scorpion: "It's my nature..."
"Signed, Tony." Crumbing the card in his hand, the man heaved it across the room opposite the penguin. The card fluttered through the air and landed softly in a pile of a hundred or so identical cards, all recanting the same story, all signed Tony.
"Penguin", the man called out.
"Yes?"
"Don't bring me any more cards."