Posts Tagged With: comedy
Penny and Stu were quick to hatch a plan after they hopped aboard a three masted schooner at the Mystic Seaport Museum.
“What do you bribe a crew with? Gold bullion?” Arctic Stu asked Penny. “We can’t sail this ship by ourselves.”
“From the looks of this lot I would say they’d flip on their own father for a glazed donut. Don’t worry about it.”
Penny and Stu climbed up on the forward deck and peered down at the people milling around the vessel.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Penny called out. “I am Colonel Penny Loafer of South Georgia Island, this is my second in command, Stu, and under the order of the highest Emperor of Penguins, we are officially taking over this vessel.” Instantly, a large woman with a fanny pack and jean shorts jumped overboard, hitting the water with a great splash.
Penny was quick to bark instructions at his newly consripted crew. “You, holding the child on a leash, ready the mainsail! You, with the “Ithaca is Gorges” t-shirt, climb to the crow’s nest! And put on a different t-shirt!”
Penny was about to command his next crewmember when another voice broke the silence.
“What is going on here???” The question came from a man with a white beard and captain’s hat yelled. His nametag read, “Cap’n Steve.”
“Good sir,” Penny responded. “I am Colonel Penny Loafer of South Georgia Island, this is Stu, and we are commandeering this vessel. I’ll ask you to kindly retire to your quarters. We’ll take it from here.”
The man laughed a big belly laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said, “you two are misinformed. This here is a museum vessel. It doesn’t go anywhere!”
“Fiddle sticks, you daft excuse for a Captain!” Penny retorted. “Stu! Undo the lines! Ready the mainsail!”
“This ship doesn’t even have a rudder,” the man said. “It’s just for show. And I’m not a captain. I’m a “Cap’n”. Just Steve, really. I teach history at the middle school. ” Steve took Penny and Stu to the pilot room where they saw that the ship’s wheel was bolted tight so that little kids couldn’t spin it incessantly.
Soon, two elderly women from museum security walked gingerly onboard and took Penny and Stu to the exit. Realizing that their plan to sail home for free had all been in vein, they left without a fight.
“That was our shot, Stu.”
“Whatever, man. Just pound a Red Bull and let’s go.”
And the two left Mystic, Connecticut in search of their next curious adventure…
Penny and Stu were in Mystic, Connecticut for a wedding when Stu thought he’d discovered a way home. “Take a flyer, Penny!” he said. “We’re going to charter a yacht!”
Penny wasn’t thrilled. “A yacht?” he asked. “I’m sorry, but it seems I left my Tommy Bahama shirt and REO Speedwagon CD at home. Please. I only sail on proper vessels — fully rigged schooners and barques.”
Stu wasn’t amused. He stepped onto the boat and asked the captain, a balding man in a REO Speedwagon 1986 U.S. Tour t-shirt, how much it would be to go two stops, the first in Arctic Svalbard and then onto South Georgia Island in Antarctica.
The man thought for a second. “$97,000 plus gas.”
Dissapointed, Stu returned to Penny and the two continued on their way. Penny knew that since they couldn’t pay for a boat home they would have to take control of one by force. They turned towards the Mystic Seaport and set their sights on some proper ships. The adventure continued…
Penny and Stu rode their bikes from their home in Brooklyn to Grand Central Terminal, hoping to get a train out of the city. They weren’t used to the 90 degree-plus heat that was baking the sidewalks. And the piles of trash smelled like every seafood restaurant in the city finally decided to throw away the bad shrimp they’d been saving for a year.
Luckily, they were able to board the 12:37 to Connecticut.
“I hear that you can bring extra large beers on these trains,” said Stu. “They call them tall boys. You put them in brown paper bags, roll down the top and just drink from there.”
“I refuse to drink anything called a “tall boy”” said Penny. “Until they serve Balvenie 18-year, the only single malt I enjoy, I’m going to continue with this bottle of Avian and let you chug out of paper bags. Would you like some glue to huff as well?”
They hopped on the train; Stu with a Miller Lite tall boy and Penny with a bottle of Avian. Their curious adventures continued…
“You can’t recommend baby seals as a healthy source of protein!” the GNC manager yelled at Arctic Stu.
Stu and Colonel Penny Loafer had only been at the job for a few hours when the manager, Kevin, realized that his new hires weren’t going to last.
“And you! Sergeant Penny.” Kevin was fuming.
“It’s Colonel, I’ll have you know! I didn’t spend three years at the Polar Training Academy on South Georgia Island to be called Sergeant.”
“You drank all of my fish oil and told a woman to sprinkle krill on her dinner tonight if she hoped to pack on the pounds for winter!”
“I said, “L.B.”s.”
“You’re both fired!” Kevin flung open the door and kicked Penny and Stu out of the store. They were once again jobless. They went back to the midtown streets and the adventure continued.
“DOES THAT TICK YOU OFF?” Stu asked Penny as they stood atop a West Village roof and watched a flock of geese fly overhead.
“Does what tick me off?”
“You know, that you can’t fly?”
“Oh brother,” Penny said. “How many times do we have to go over this?”
“Until you can fly.”
“Not all birds fly, Stu. There are flightless cormorants, ostriches, emus…there’s even a flightless bird in New Guinea called a cassowary. Strange fellow.”
“You’re like a basketball player who can’t dunk,” Stu said. “You’re the John Stockton of the bird community. He could pass and shoot for days, but when it came down to it, everyone just wanted to see him throw one down every once in a while.”
Penny walked to the other side of the building so he could look out over midtown. He’d never been this high up before. Maybe if he caught the wind just right he could fly down to the streets below. Maybe he could become a legend. The first flying penguin. Certainly the first in New York City.
Stu, saw Penny standing on the ledge and knew what he was thinking.
“You’re not going to dunk today, Colonel.”
So they hopped on the elevator and returned to the streets, safetly, ready for their next adventure.
After their harrowing experience with the stolen bicycle Penny and Stu decided that walking, not riding, the streets of New York was probably their best bet. But the streets were getting boring. They felt closed in. Too many commuters, too many cars and too many tourists. Oh, the tourists. “If one more tourist asks me which way is Uptown I’m going to vomit all over their fanny pack,” Stu told Penny.
Penny and Stu set off to cross all 5,989 feet of the Brooklyn Bridge. Despite it being February 2nd the air was warm, maybe a function of the same global warming that cast off the ice flows that brought both Penny and Stu to New York City in the first place. While Penny took in the view, Stu dreamed of speed. “I told you we should have kept that bike!” Stu told Penny. “We’re getting smoked!”
Penny stopped midway to read about the history of the bridge and New York Harbor. Stu hocked loogies over the side.
By the time they reached the other side of the bridge they couldn’t help but bask in the high that comes from crossing such an iconic structure. They took it all in.
“Wait! Do we have to go all the way back?” Stu asked.
“I say we keep going, my good chap. See what we can find in the great beyond.”
And their adventure continued…
“I’M TELLING YOU, you have to have a bike in this city,” Stu told Penny one day while playing Tony Hawk’s Shred on Xbox.
“I’d rather have a town car and a driver,” Penny said. “And do you always have to do that left side fakie ollie? It’s so rote.”
“I’ll do it until you come and steal a bike with me.”
And so Penny and Stu left their Lower East Side apartment, Stu with a pair of bolt cutters he’d borrowed from the super. Penny kept watch as Stu went to work on the chain. Within seconds the bike was free and now Penny and Stu had to make a decision. Where were they going to go? The answer: everywhere.
When the coast was clear they hopped on the pedals and got the bike to move. Although they didn’t have very good control of the bike, Penny and Stu ripped down Broadway. They wove in and out of traffic, slowing only when Stu saw a man pushing a Shih-Tzu in a stroller.
“You’re the animal, dude! That’s degrading!” he yelled.
They hadn’t gone very far when out of nowhere a Dominican woman selling empanadas cut in front of the bike with her cart. Penny and Stu slammed on the breaks but it was too late, they hit the side of the cart and were flung onto the sidewalk.
The woman felt so badly that she hadn’t seen the bike coming that she gave Penny and Stu each an empanada of their choice. Stu grasped for the beef while Penny took a spinach and a fist-full of napkins. As they ate their empanadas Penny told Stu that he didn’t think is was very prudent for the two of them to steal bicycles any more. Stu thought about it for a second, then turned to the Dominican woman and said, “Uno mas, por favor!”
WHEN Arctic Stu opened the mail to find two Court of New York jury summons notices for he and Colonel Penny Loafer he was dumbfounded.
“Jury duty? Are you freaking kidding me?”
“I”ve heard stories of this jury duty situation,” said Penny. “Absolutely dreadful.”
The day came and the duo arrived at the jurors room on Centre Street to be screened to serve. They went through security quickly, having no bags, jackets, or even clothes in which to conceal, well, anything but Stu’s iPhone, which he held in his paw.
In a steril and undecorated jurer’s room, Penny and Stu sat in silence as people from all walks of life shuffled in. An outdated movie showing medieval witches being drowned and Robin Hood-looking thieves having their hands boiled played, eventually changing the focus to more civilized modern day courtrooms.
“If this is an attempt to make this court system seem like a breath of fresh air, it’s sure working,” Penny said.
“It’s crap.” said Arctic Stu as he Tweeted “This sucks!!! #juryduty” on his phone.
After a few more minutes of silent anguish a court officer stood up and explained what everyone needed to do: Tear this form, sign this form, yadda yadda. “Is everyone here a US citizen?” he asked.
When Colonel Penny Loafer shared his situation the man was astounded. “Yous are from where?”
“Well, good sir, I am from a land of rock and snow called Antarctica and my good chap Stu over here is from the Arctic circle. A speck of a place called Svalbard.”
“It’s a pretty sweet place,” Stu added.
Incensed, the man told them to go to another building, where they would have to show Greencards. Of course neither Penny nor Stu had one. They had both come to the city on stray ice flows.
Afraid of being found out, they rushed out of the courtroom and hit the streets. Penny suspected that a man with an earpiece was following them so they dashed on the 4 train and sought the protection of Brooklyn.
There they were, a polar bear and a penguin without Greencards, evading the court system of New York City. Surely this would lead to more adventures. But first they had to get a burger at Junior’s.
No one has it easy in New York City. Unless you’re a Kardashian or a Central Park squirrel you have to work for every scrap. As a polar bear cub, Arctic Stu was really having a tough time. Rent was piling up and he was tired of Colonel Penny Loafer yapping about how he was carrying the penguin’s share of the responsibilities in their new environment. Desperate, Arctic Stu went to a temp agency.
He should have known that something was array when the agent winked and said she had the perfect fit for him in the medical offices of Lest Yethink Wecare.
They already had a polar bear working there! A big one! This temp agent clearly didn’t know how territorial some polar bears are and Derrick was no exception. Arctic Stu was settling into his cubicle when the attack came from above. Derrick pounced on Arctic Stu and had him on the ground before Arctic Stu could call his secretary for help.
Stu struggled but in a miraculous twist of fate, Derrick slipped on a pile of papers and landed flat on his back.
Stu quickly scampered away and when he was a safe distance from Derrick, posted a scathing review of the temp agency on his Facebook wall followed by seven sad face emoticons. Hours later his friends saw that he checked into McSorleys Ale House on his FourSquare account. This wasn’t the first challenge in Arctic Stu’s adventures, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last.
“Maybe I’ll try retail…”