They finally are up the stairs, when they meet yet another hallway. Private's tiny jaw almost hits the floor. Nigel contuines waddling on down it. His nephew stares up at him, and imitates his every move.
"We're close, Private." Nigel encourages Private. The young pinguim slouches onward, but quickly goes back to atuação like his uncle. His mother laughs, for she knows she made the right decision.
"Nigel, what does this machine do?" She asks cautiously gesturing toward a colossal rectangluar appliance. It is black on the topo, início and bottom. A shiny object seals vivid minisquel shapes that are held por gray coils.
"Oh, that is a vending machine. Humans get snacks out of there sometimes. They use…" Nigel ducks down under the terrifyingly huge object. He comes out with something round and silver. "coins like these called quarters. You won't believe how many get stuck underneath." Nigel contuines.
"Yummy! Can I have a snack?" Private whimpers.
"Private… I don't know…" His mother says disapprovingly.
"It'll be fine, Sophia." Nigel smirks at his sister. "It's not poison!"
"Well, for humans it isn't, but… I don't know, if it could effect us." She holds back.
"Pleeaase, mummy!" Private begs.
"Don't worry. I'll only let him get what I've had before." Nigel promises.
"All right," She releases a defeated sigh.
"Yay!" Private cries. He rushes up to the machine, and tries to stuff himself through the opening.
Just in time-before he gets inside, Nigel grabs him. Private is pulled out. "That's a bad habit to get into." Nigel smiles. "Hold on," He then does something totally unexpected.
Nigel takes off dashing toward the opposite wall. Private observes closely, while his mother scoffs at her brother. Just when it seems Nigel is about to end his sprint in a collision course with the wall, he jumps. Like a trained professional, he lands on the side of the wall, and a segundo later leaps onto the topo, início of the machine.
He bends over, examining the snacks upside-down. Scanning for something good, Nigel finally finds something. Then, he turns; and begins pushing buttons down with strange markings on them.
Loud, peculiar sounds come from inside the machine. A scared Private hides behind his mother like she is a shield. From the top, Nigel stands on the edge. Suddenly he leaps.
He lands perfectly on his webbed feet. With his fins out, he looks like a gymnast. Soon he turns to get something from out of the machine.
Then he sticks half of his torso into the machine's opening. When he comes out, he's got a bright rectangular object in his flipper. It's bright yellow with a winking face on it.
Private curiously hops forward. He watches his uncle strip the thin yellow material from a brown quadrilateral. The round pinguim reluctantly takes it from Nigel, and shovels it into his beak. With the size and unfamiliar shape, he begins choking.
"Private! Private!" His mother cries.
Nigel grasps Private por his shoulders, "Spit it out, lad!"
Just when Sophia is about to give Private CPR, her son holds out his flipper. He spits into it. Brown and lighter brown pieces of the doces are sodden in saliva on his fin.
"Private, are you okay?!" Nigel gasps. Private nods, still wheezing. His mother swoops him up. She nuzzles him protectively.
"Smaller pieces, Private!" Nigel instructs, in order to prevent another fiasco-that could turn tragic.
"See! This is what happens when you're not careful with my baby! Filling his head with stories, teaching him that the human world is all happy and safe! Nigel, he's still a hatchling!" She scolds. Nigel backs way.
"Mummy, I'm a big boy. I thought I was brave!" Private whimpers.
"You are, but I worry about you. You're not grown-up yet." Sophia reasons.
Private breaks off pieces, and puts them slowly in his beak. This time he is chewing. His tastebuds react immediately. He has never eaten something so sweet. It melts in his mouth. Once the sugary chocolate has dissolved, another flavor tingles his tongue. It sticks to the roof of his mouth. He scraps the topo, início repeatedly with gusto like a puppy.
"This is really good!" Private exclaims, contuining to try to get the delicious substance off his mouth-and onto his tongue. His mother strokes his feathery head.
"We should keep walking." Nigel sighs.
Nigel stops in front of a door, at last. Reguritating a key, all Nigel has left to do is open the door. He bends his knees-with the key in his beak, causing his body to crouch low. With his built up power, Nigel leaps far above the floor. He ends up dangling from the knob. It takes a great deal of his strength to pull himself up to where he is secure. Then, he seizes the key with one fin; and uses the other one to hang on.
The key gets placed inside a irregular hole. The graying pinguim jiggles the shimmering object, until they hear a click. Nigel twists the knob. When this happens, the door opens por a crack. Both webbed feet shove the door wide open, revealing the room they'll be staying in; until the ship reaches England.
The room has a gray carpet with an incredible design. The beseige walls neutralizethe color of the red sofá with puffy pillows. On the opposite wall, is a dresser. It is a wooden with a mirror, droors, and a red fabric basket underneath. seguinte to the dresser is a large flat screen, mounted on the wall; and seguinte to that is a white door. A organized bed, that is the same color is up against the back mural underneath a panting of a sail boat. The mural it's on is dark brown and on both sides of the cama is a lamp.
They step in after Nigel. Each one is completely awestruck.
"Oh, Nigel, this is wonderful!" She exclaims.
"You sound suprised." Nigel laughs.
"How in the world did you get enough money to pay for this?" She questions.
"Well, that's a funny story..." Nigel chuckles nervously.
"Please, tell me me you didn't steal this room!" Sophia puts her fin to her head.
"It's not like I had any human money! Besides, how could I have time to get some? We need this room!" Nigel persuade.
Her coração mellows, as she sees her son's eyes brighten with excitement. He wanders around, gazing at this new magical world. His little imagination flares, when he asks so many perguntas about each feature of the room.
"Still mad?" Nigel whispers to his mother.
"Huh?" She stops dazing, and turns to her brother. "I guess,"
Nigel steps forward. "How about some sushi for dinner?"
"Zushi?" Private utters, instead of saying sushi.