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- Herausgeber: Little Tiger Press
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Serie: Space Penguins
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
What's black and white, and flies faster than the speed of light? The Space Penguins! They're the ice-cool crew of the spaceship Tunafish. With their pioneering flying skills and resistance to the deep freeze, these intergalactic avians are going where no fin has gone before. Captain T Krill, Rocky Waddle, Fuzz Allgrin and Splash Gordon are on a mission to explore new planets, rescue alien life, and battle their former comrade-in-wings: Dark Wader. Incoming! The penguins discover an ancient wax tablet with a familiar figure carved on it a penguin with impressive eyebrows, just like Rocky's! The tablet leads them to Bumbl-B, a planet with a colossal comet problem. The Bumbls are waiting for a bird god to take them to a new world and they may have found the rockhopper for the job. But time is running out... Can Rocky save the day? This hilarious Space Penguin adventure is sure to appeal to young boys. Full of fishy goings on, humour and adventure this is a fantastic series that will tickle even reluctant boy readers.
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Seitenzahl: 54
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CONTENTS
MEET THE SPACE PENGUINS…
LOADING...
Greetings, cosmic explorers. I am ICEcube, the onboard navigation computer for the Space Penguins and their spacecraft, the Tunafish. And I’m sorry to tell you, but this ship has smelly feet.
I can’t smell them, of course. Computers don’t have noses. But according to my sensors, Rocky Waddle has parked the Tunafish in a puddle of something wet and nasty. It is clinging to the landing gear. It is covering the chassis. My database says: peeeyooo.
We have seen a lot of pongy planets on our voyage through the universe. Offl was awful. Smelibot was as bad as it sounds. But Ba-Ghin is the stinkiest planet we’ve ever visited.
We arrived here an hour ago on instructions from Fuzz Allgrin, the ship’s chef. He has downloaded several new recipes from the Space Penguins’ robot servant, Marin-9, and wants to find the right ingredients. Marin-9 was Marin-8, the crazy chef of intergalactic space cruiser the Superduper Startrooper, until Splash reprogrammed him. He’s much nicer now.
There are 7,362 market stalls on this planet, selling everything under the suns and stars of the entire universe. The Space Penguins have only reached market stall number five. This is going to be a long day.
My crew doesn’t smell very nice at the best of times.
Captain T. Krill is large and brave and smells of fish.
Pilot Rocky Waddle has long eyebrows and smells of fish.
Ship’s Engineer Splash Gordon is super-brainy and smells of fish.
Fuzz Allgrin the chef is small and fierce and smells of fish.
I smell of fuel, hot wires and cold metal. And also of fish. You can’t be an onboard computer guidance system for a crew of penguins without the smell rubbing off on you. My sensors have grown used to it. But now they are approaching overload.
Oh. A small hairy creature has just lifted its leg on the Tunafish’s thrusters. My database says: something very rude. The Space Penguins had better come back soon, or this whole ship will explode in a cloud of stinky green smoke.
CHAPTER ONE
UNDERDONE ONION
Market day on Ba-Ghin was busy. Creatures with blue fur, green scales and purple feathers jostled for space with the penguins. Stallholders shouted their wares in a hundred different languages, enticing bargain hunters with light shows and bright music, wafting scents and dancing puppets, lassos and nets and sharp sticks. The chink and rustle of space dollars was everywhere.
“What a wonderful aroma,” said Captain Krill, lifting his yellow striped head and beak to smell the thick market air. “It reminds me of my old enclosure at the zoo.”
“It reminds me of Splash’s feet when he’s been wearing his spacesuit all day,” said Rocky Waddle. Catching sight of himself in a large market-stall mirror, he smoothed his long yellow eyebrows with his flippers. Rocky’s eyebrows were his pride and joy.
“We’ve lost Fuzz,” said Splash Gordon, peering through the crowd. “I wish he wasn’t so small.”
Fuzz Allgrin appeared by Splash’s side in a deadly ninja pose. With a shopping list tucked under one flipper, the ninja pose was difficult.
“If you call me small again, Splash,” he warned, “I will bash you like a barracuda.”
“Sorry,” Splash said. He patted Fuzz on the back. “It won’t happen again.”
“That was foolish, Splash,” said Captain Krill, as Fuzz plunged back into the crowd. “You know better than to call Fuzz … that word.”
Splash adjusted his goggles. “It was deliberate, Captain,” he said. “I needed to summon Fuzz to my side so that I could plant a tracking device on the back of his neck. We’ll know where he is now.”
The Space Penguins continued through the crowds, following Fuzz on Splash’s tracker. It was difficult to stay focused. There were so many amazing things on sale.
“An album by Doobee Boobee Baxter!” Captain Krill gasped, pausing at a music stall to snatch up a little silver disc. “What’s that tremendous tune he wrote? Something about vegetables…”
“‘Underdone Onion’,” said the stallholder. The three eyes on his three heads gleamed in the hope of a sale. “You’re a creature who knows his music, sir.”
“I do have some knowledge of classic crooners,” the Captain said modestly. “How does the song go again?”
“Underdone onion,” the stallholder’s three heads sang in harmony. “Pale and crunchy, I hate it when the bits are hard…”
“…and spoil your yummy lunchy,” Captain Krill sang back.
“Yum, yum, yum,” they both sang, beaming at each other. “Yum, yum, yum!”
“Worst song ever,” Rocky said, as the Captain handed a flipperful of space dollars to the stallholder. “And that’s official.”
They headed on through the market. Fuzz was up ahead, haggling fiercely with a two-nosed stallholder for a basket of shrivelled black pods.
“Ten space dollar!” the stallholder shouted.
“Two!” Fuzz shouted back.
“Ten space dollar and kick up bottom!”
“Two and punch on nose! Both of them!”
Fuzz threw two space dollars at the furious stallholder and headed off into the crowd. “Flobber pods, done. Just three more items to find,” he said, waddling on with the others trailing behind him. “Whistleberries, ponkle powder and dried thostril nostrils. I’m cooking up a feast tonight!”
“What are whistleberries?” asked the Captain. “And flobber pods, and the rest of them?”
“I have no idea,” said Fuzz happily.
“Thostril nostrils is a real beak-tweaker,” said Rocky. “Try saying it fast, Captain. Thostril nostrils. Thostril— Ooh, is that an eyebrow comb?” He picked a slim red comb off a nearby stall. “Nice weight. Teeth not too close together.” He ran it through his eyebrows and admired his reflection in the stallholder’s mirror.
“You have to buy it now,” said the stallholder.
“I’ll take four,” Rocky said. “In different colours.”
While Fuzz haggled for a bunch of bright orange whistleberries, Captain Krill studied his new album and Rocky tested his different combs, Splash waddled across the street to a dusty stall piled high with wires, screens and plugs.
