Private: Not that this taco doesn't look good, but that chunky almôndega, bola de carne of hot sauce and soggy taco shell is kind of ruining my appetite.
Kowalski: You said it. That is rather repulsive and nauseating. (gags with disgust)
Suddenly the taco jolts and flops out of the tray, leaving a soggy puddle on the once-clean table.
Private: AH! The taco moved. Did you see that? Skipper's taco flopped onto the table!
Kowalski: That is proposterous. Tacos aren't alive, and they don't walk.
Private: It moved!
Rico hacks up a crowbar.
Private: I don't need to be put out of my misery. I am telling you. It's alive. Where is Skipper?
Kowalski: "Scoping" out the bathroom.
Rico: WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! (dives under the table)
The taco is growing in size like pumping up a bicycle tire. It is all gross and is squirting greasy slime everywhere. The taco is getting bigger. It is soon the size of the table.
Kowalski: The taco has overcome the surface area of the table. It just doesn't compute.
The penguins are on stake out underneath another table, observing the taco terror with horror.
Private: Let's make a run for the bathroom. Skipper will know what to do.
The taco swelled up to the size of one of those enormous pumpkins that you can sit on, and it is rolling around on the ground. Oh no. It has blocked off the only escape to the bathroom! Now how will the penguins get there?
Kowalski: If we can create a diversion then we could slip por while it is distracted. I suggest we use a flamethrower assault with a 4 por 4 narrow surface coverage. Private, you go with me while Rico takes care of the distraction. Got it?
Rico: Bleh. (holds flamethrower and aims it at the taco. Rico fires a stream of flames at the daranged taco monster, but it is doing no good. It is only burning the piece of meat to a blackened mess. But it is enough to distract it. Kowalski and Private tobaggin for the bathroom.
Suddenly the taco rolls across the floor like an enormous almôndega, bola de carne and tries to grab Rico with a meaty arm. The pinguim dodges it and makes a run for it.
Kowalski: Oh no! The door is locked! Skipper, help! Monster taco on the loose! Help!
Skipper: Is it really that much of an emergency. Come on, Kowalski. You need to be watching those tacos.
Private: This is an emergency! That taco is trying to eat us!
Skipper: That's a good one, Private. Real funny. Hilarious.
Private: No really! It's coming! AHHHHHH!!!! It has eaten Rico! We're next!
Skipper can't get them to leave. Ok, long story short, there was no scoping out the bathroom, but we will just assume it is seguro except for a severly clogged toilet. The door is unlocked and Kowalski and Private fall over eachother in such a panic to escape the mutant taco.
Private and Kowalski together: It's after us! Close the door. It is too late for Rico!
Skipper: Keep it together, soldiers. What is going on? Why are you all blabbering like a bunch of Ricos?
Private: Your taco has grown to the size of a washing machine and it ate Rico. He's gone.
Skipper: That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I am sure Rico is around here to put you out of your misery somewhere.
Kowalski: Perhaps you will allow me to confirm Private's observation. There is indeed a man-eating gringo out there, and Rico was digested.
The three of them peek outside and see the taco is coming for the bathroom door.
Skipper: Barricade all the entrances! This is not a drill! Bar the doors, hatch the window, clog the toilets for cabbage sake! Go go go!
Kowalski: You said it. That is rather repulsive and nauseating. (gags with disgust)
Suddenly the taco jolts and flops out of the tray, leaving a soggy puddle on the once-clean table.
Private: AH! The taco moved. Did you see that? Skipper's taco flopped onto the table!
Kowalski: That is proposterous. Tacos aren't alive, and they don't walk.
Private: It moved!
Rico hacks up a crowbar.
Private: I don't need to be put out of my misery. I am telling you. It's alive. Where is Skipper?
Kowalski: "Scoping" out the bathroom.
Rico: WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! (dives under the table)
The taco is growing in size like pumping up a bicycle tire. It is all gross and is squirting greasy slime everywhere. The taco is getting bigger. It is soon the size of the table.
Kowalski: The taco has overcome the surface area of the table. It just doesn't compute.
The penguins are on stake out underneath another table, observing the taco terror with horror.
Private: Let's make a run for the bathroom. Skipper will know what to do.
The taco swelled up to the size of one of those enormous pumpkins that you can sit on, and it is rolling around on the ground. Oh no. It has blocked off the only escape to the bathroom! Now how will the penguins get there?
Kowalski: If we can create a diversion then we could slip por while it is distracted. I suggest we use a flamethrower assault with a 4 por 4 narrow surface coverage. Private, you go with me while Rico takes care of the distraction. Got it?
Rico: Bleh. (holds flamethrower and aims it at the taco. Rico fires a stream of flames at the daranged taco monster, but it is doing no good. It is only burning the piece of meat to a blackened mess. But it is enough to distract it. Kowalski and Private tobaggin for the bathroom.
Suddenly the taco rolls across the floor like an enormous almôndega, bola de carne and tries to grab Rico with a meaty arm. The pinguim dodges it and makes a run for it.
Kowalski: Oh no! The door is locked! Skipper, help! Monster taco on the loose! Help!
Skipper: Is it really that much of an emergency. Come on, Kowalski. You need to be watching those tacos.
Private: This is an emergency! That taco is trying to eat us!
Skipper: That's a good one, Private. Real funny. Hilarious.
Private: No really! It's coming! AHHHHHH!!!! It has eaten Rico! We're next!
Skipper can't get them to leave. Ok, long story short, there was no scoping out the bathroom, but we will just assume it is seguro except for a severly clogged toilet. The door is unlocked and Kowalski and Private fall over eachother in such a panic to escape the mutant taco.
Private and Kowalski together: It's after us! Close the door. It is too late for Rico!
Skipper: Keep it together, soldiers. What is going on? Why are you all blabbering like a bunch of Ricos?
Private: Your taco has grown to the size of a washing machine and it ate Rico. He's gone.
Skipper: That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I am sure Rico is around here to put you out of your misery somewhere.
Kowalski: Perhaps you will allow me to confirm Private's observation. There is indeed a man-eating gringo out there, and Rico was digested.
The three of them peek outside and see the taco is coming for the bathroom door.
Skipper: Barricade all the entrances! This is not a drill! Bar the doors, hatch the window, clog the toilets for cabbage sake! Go go go!