The Penguining

Last night in the kitchen at work, I spied two lonely paper plates. The penguins they were decorated with were begging me to be set free, so I obliged them. I spirited the plates back to my desk, borrowed a co-worker's scissors, and began the arduous task of breaking the Penguin Six from their papyrus prison. Deftly, carefully, I cut the penguins out. I also cut out some snow flakes, because after all, what are penguins if they come without snow I ask you? I'll tell what they are, plain old birds, and the world has enough of those. I decided that my new friends would be relocated to a sanctaury not far away, a wonderous and clinically clean place called Marie's Cubicle. I could think of no better place to set these happy fellows free. After everyone was gone, I took the penguins to this wildlife refuge and put them here and there along with their maroon-colored snow flakes. In the morning, Marie, the keeper of the Cubicle, asked me if I had "penguined" her cubicle. "Who me?" I asked wide-eyed, feigning my knowledge of the incident. The conversation went something like this...

Marie: did you penguin my cube?
Jen: penguins? You have penguins?
Marie: somebody penguined my cube
Marie: it's festivus overhere
Jen: that's hysterical
Marie: was it you?
Jen: penguinas festivus
Marie: oh, it's you
Marie: i've got my eyes on you, missy
Marie: i'm doing the two fingered eye point thing
Jen: I'm dying... who ratted me?
Marie: well, i went through all the usual suspects
Marie: and everybody came up empty
Marie: so you are Kaiser Soze
Jen: yes, yes i am
Jen: They told me to do it
Marie Honme: evil evil penguiner
Marie: LOL
Jen: When the penguins talk, I listen
Marie: oh, the voices again
Marie: i should have known
Marie: the drinking is not just for the weekends, is it? is it?
Jen: hahahaha. Yeah, the opium is during the week
Marie: nice

When the penguins talk, I listen...