Unknown to the penguins, over the اگلے few days, Kowalski lurked in the sewer underneath them and listened to most of their conversations. A small side tunnel in the main sewer system had branched to a very convenient area located directly under the پینگوئن, پیںگان habitat, where a small hole in the floor allowed Kowalski to stand underneath the habitat and hear the others nearly perfectly. Kowalski made sure to be very quiet while listening at the hole, since he didn’t want anyone to hear him.
Kowalski was not, of course, planning to stay down there forever, in fact, he regularly went back to the habitat and messed around when the others were not there, as he generally heard where they were going and when they would be back through the peephole in the floor. After a few days, Kowalski’s voice slowly began to change back to its original, intelligent-sounding tone and Kowalski didn’t seem to like موسیقی as much any more, and regularly tinkered with his inventions while the others were out doing something else.
Kowalski eventually began to want to return to his group but kept thinking up excuses for himself because he didn’t want to think up things to tell Skipper and the other two. Finally, he decided that he would go up the اگلے دن and return to the team; as much as he stilled liked music, he felt that he could return to science if necessary to stay with the others, since sewer life wasn’t fitting him very well. But he went and listened at the peephole one last time. Perhaps he shouldn’t have.
Skipper and the other two were doing a quick cleanup of their habitat to pass the time before their پسندیدہ TV دکھائیں was on. While Private was dusting, he came upon Kowalski’s box of old inventions which had gathered a surprising amount of dust over the past few days. “Hey Skippa, what do آپ want me to do with these?”
“Well, what are they, soldier?” asked Skipper, not paying attention. Then he turned around. “Oh…Kowalski’s old inventions? Hmm…”
Private dropped the box on the floor a little too hard and heard something shatter. “Ooh!” he said.
“You know what…just throw them out,” کہا Skipper.
“Thro…throw them out, sir?” کہا Private, confused.
“Kowalski was the only one who knew how to use any of those, and most of them he had no idea what they did anyway,” کہا Skipper. “Not to mention most of them did مزید harm than good and I don’t care to try them out, even if Kowalski was here. It’s been several days and I hate to admit it…but he might not be coming back. But if he does, just say something like Julien چرا لیا, چوری کی them یا the like.”
Private still did not believe that Skipper had ordered him to simply throw out all of the inventions that Kowalski had spent weeks constructing. “But sir…” he began to argue, but Skipper wouldn’t hear of it.
“Throw them out right now…no مزید arguing…or you’ll have no ویژن ٹیلی for a month!” کہا Skipper firmly. Private whimpered and slid out the secret door, clutching the box.
Meanwhile, Skipper pulled out the little tape recorder he called ‘Skipper’s Log’. “Skipper’s log” he said, “Just told Private to throw out all of Kowalski’s old inventions. Sure, some of them were useful, but they weren’t worth the trouble. Anyway, note to self, give Private Kowalski’s old clipboard and abacus to Private; he will be replacing Kowalski as role of options/tactics specialist around here. Technology we can do without, but we need a tactics person. And who knows, with a little training and hard work, he could become much better than Kowalski ever was. And at least he won’t run away from his team when he starts to like something different. Skipper out.”
Kowalski decided it would be in his best interest to leave before anyone could say something to damage his ego further. He slumped against the دیوار of the sewer to take in what he had just heard.
Obviously, this was not the kind of thing he expected to hear from his former comrades, as usually when someone runs away the people at ہوم are crying about it and preparing a welcome ہوم party in case he ever showed up at their doorstep. Kowalski had not really expected to be greeted sincerely back to the group, but he certainly didn’t expect to have them throw out all of his inventions and replace him as though he never existed. Especially replacing him with Private...oh, the indignity! Kowalski was in half mind to march back there and tell them what he thought of such tactics, but they had a point…if someone with an important job leaves, they’re going to replace them. Still, Kowalski didn’t know that his inventions meant so little to them.
Kowalski took one of his little inventions (an automatic toothbrush, which was fairly pointless since they had no teeth) which he had smuggled out of the پینگوئن, پیںگان habitat the other دن off of the ground around the place where he had been staying (he had made a little makeshift بستر سے طرف کی the branch in the sewer that led to the peephole) and punted it into the water. He made his inventions because, let’s face it, he wanted everyone to love him for it. Now that Kowalski knew what everyone thought of his inventions, he decided that inventions weren’t the key anymore. Time to turn to his other پسندیدہ activity…
“Eureka!” کہا Kowalski. “If I can’t get them to love my inventions, then I’ll just write a song which will knock them on their tail feathers, then they’ll love me forever!”
Kowalski slapped himself; he was obviously thinking differently. He wanted people to love him and his inventions because everyone wants people to love what they created, but he also made them to help him and his دوستوں on all of their various missions, and making the inventions simply to have everyone love him for it wasn’t really what Kowalski intended to do.
“Ah, who am I kidding!” کہا Kowalski to himself. “Of course I’m going to do it! Maybe if I write something fantastic enough, the others will even come and find me and beg for me to come back.”
“Keep on dreamin’!” remarked a sewer چوہا who had been listening to Kowalski’s entire one-sided conversation, then scurried down a tunnel. Kowalski vaguely wondered if it was the same on he had kicked into the sewer when he discovered it at Rodger’s place. He rather doubted it.
“But I don’t know how to write a song یا anything of the sort,” کہا Kowalski sadly. Kowalski thought of anything that could help him out, and his thoughts landed on Rodger.
“Duh!” کہا Kowalski, slapping himself on the forehead. “Rodger wants to be a singer, he’s bound to know at least something about writing music. Maybe he’ll even let me stay over at his place; it will beat this tunnel any day.”
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After a few minutes, Kowalski reached Rodger’s den. Much to his surprise, the ماند, خلوت خانہ was in exactly the same shape as it was about a week پہلے when Kowalski had gone out to the city. It was still a mess, but Kowalski noticed that the things he had stacked up to help ‘tidy up’ had fallen back down.
Kowalski called for Rodger, and there was no answer.
“Where could that gator have gotten to?” asked Kowalski to himself. He called again, and of course no one answered.
“I guess I’ll just stay here,” کہا Kowalski. “If Rodger comes back, I’ll just tell him I took refuge here because I’m hiding from the sewer rats; if I tell him that the group kicked me out, he’s going to take me back and try to resolve it all.”
Kowalski spent the اگلے twenty منٹ completely refurbishing the den. When he was satisfied, he sat down on a broken chair (presumably Rodger had tried to sit on it, and as everyone knows, it is not wise for alligators to sit on chairs), which managed to hold his weight.
“Well, if Rodger’s not here, I’m going to need someone else to help me write my music. And then when I’m done, I’ll need some way to publicly display the موسیقی without being shunned سے طرف کی all; no one is going to want to hear it if it is being filtered into their habitat on some loud radio in the middle of the night.”
Kowalski thought some more. “And I think I know just the two animals who can help me.”
Kowalski was not, of course, planning to stay down there forever, in fact, he regularly went back to the habitat and messed around when the others were not there, as he generally heard where they were going and when they would be back through the peephole in the floor. After a few days, Kowalski’s voice slowly began to change back to its original, intelligent-sounding tone and Kowalski didn’t seem to like موسیقی as much any more, and regularly tinkered with his inventions while the others were out doing something else.
Kowalski eventually began to want to return to his group but kept thinking up excuses for himself because he didn’t want to think up things to tell Skipper and the other two. Finally, he decided that he would go up the اگلے دن and return to the team; as much as he stilled liked music, he felt that he could return to science if necessary to stay with the others, since sewer life wasn’t fitting him very well. But he went and listened at the peephole one last time. Perhaps he shouldn’t have.
Skipper and the other two were doing a quick cleanup of their habitat to pass the time before their پسندیدہ TV دکھائیں was on. While Private was dusting, he came upon Kowalski’s box of old inventions which had gathered a surprising amount of dust over the past few days. “Hey Skippa, what do آپ want me to do with these?”
“Well, what are they, soldier?” asked Skipper, not paying attention. Then he turned around. “Oh…Kowalski’s old inventions? Hmm…”
Private dropped the box on the floor a little too hard and heard something shatter. “Ooh!” he said.
“You know what…just throw them out,” کہا Skipper.
“Thro…throw them out, sir?” کہا Private, confused.
“Kowalski was the only one who knew how to use any of those, and most of them he had no idea what they did anyway,” کہا Skipper. “Not to mention most of them did مزید harm than good and I don’t care to try them out, even if Kowalski was here. It’s been several days and I hate to admit it…but he might not be coming back. But if he does, just say something like Julien چرا لیا, چوری کی them یا the like.”
Private still did not believe that Skipper had ordered him to simply throw out all of the inventions that Kowalski had spent weeks constructing. “But sir…” he began to argue, but Skipper wouldn’t hear of it.
“Throw them out right now…no مزید arguing…or you’ll have no ویژن ٹیلی for a month!” کہا Skipper firmly. Private whimpered and slid out the secret door, clutching the box.
Meanwhile, Skipper pulled out the little tape recorder he called ‘Skipper’s Log’. “Skipper’s log” he said, “Just told Private to throw out all of Kowalski’s old inventions. Sure, some of them were useful, but they weren’t worth the trouble. Anyway, note to self, give Private Kowalski’s old clipboard and abacus to Private; he will be replacing Kowalski as role of options/tactics specialist around here. Technology we can do without, but we need a tactics person. And who knows, with a little training and hard work, he could become much better than Kowalski ever was. And at least he won’t run away from his team when he starts to like something different. Skipper out.”
Kowalski decided it would be in his best interest to leave before anyone could say something to damage his ego further. He slumped against the دیوار of the sewer to take in what he had just heard.
Obviously, this was not the kind of thing he expected to hear from his former comrades, as usually when someone runs away the people at ہوم are crying about it and preparing a welcome ہوم party in case he ever showed up at their doorstep. Kowalski had not really expected to be greeted sincerely back to the group, but he certainly didn’t expect to have them throw out all of his inventions and replace him as though he never existed. Especially replacing him with Private...oh, the indignity! Kowalski was in half mind to march back there and tell them what he thought of such tactics, but they had a point…if someone with an important job leaves, they’re going to replace them. Still, Kowalski didn’t know that his inventions meant so little to them.
Kowalski took one of his little inventions (an automatic toothbrush, which was fairly pointless since they had no teeth) which he had smuggled out of the پینگوئن, پیںگان habitat the other دن off of the ground around the place where he had been staying (he had made a little makeshift بستر سے طرف کی the branch in the sewer that led to the peephole) and punted it into the water. He made his inventions because, let’s face it, he wanted everyone to love him for it. Now that Kowalski knew what everyone thought of his inventions, he decided that inventions weren’t the key anymore. Time to turn to his other پسندیدہ activity…
“Eureka!” کہا Kowalski. “If I can’t get them to love my inventions, then I’ll just write a song which will knock them on their tail feathers, then they’ll love me forever!”
Kowalski slapped himself; he was obviously thinking differently. He wanted people to love him and his inventions because everyone wants people to love what they created, but he also made them to help him and his دوستوں on all of their various missions, and making the inventions simply to have everyone love him for it wasn’t really what Kowalski intended to do.
“Ah, who am I kidding!” کہا Kowalski to himself. “Of course I’m going to do it! Maybe if I write something fantastic enough, the others will even come and find me and beg for me to come back.”
“Keep on dreamin’!” remarked a sewer چوہا who had been listening to Kowalski’s entire one-sided conversation, then scurried down a tunnel. Kowalski vaguely wondered if it was the same on he had kicked into the sewer when he discovered it at Rodger’s place. He rather doubted it.
“But I don’t know how to write a song یا anything of the sort,” کہا Kowalski sadly. Kowalski thought of anything that could help him out, and his thoughts landed on Rodger.
“Duh!” کہا Kowalski, slapping himself on the forehead. “Rodger wants to be a singer, he’s bound to know at least something about writing music. Maybe he’ll even let me stay over at his place; it will beat this tunnel any day.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After a few minutes, Kowalski reached Rodger’s den. Much to his surprise, the ماند, خلوت خانہ was in exactly the same shape as it was about a week پہلے when Kowalski had gone out to the city. It was still a mess, but Kowalski noticed that the things he had stacked up to help ‘tidy up’ had fallen back down.
Kowalski called for Rodger, and there was no answer.
“Where could that gator have gotten to?” asked Kowalski to himself. He called again, and of course no one answered.
“I guess I’ll just stay here,” کہا Kowalski. “If Rodger comes back, I’ll just tell him I took refuge here because I’m hiding from the sewer rats; if I tell him that the group kicked me out, he’s going to take me back and try to resolve it all.”
Kowalski spent the اگلے twenty منٹ completely refurbishing the den. When he was satisfied, he sat down on a broken chair (presumably Rodger had tried to sit on it, and as everyone knows, it is not wise for alligators to sit on chairs), which managed to hold his weight.
“Well, if Rodger’s not here, I’m going to need someone else to help me write my music. And then when I’m done, I’ll need some way to publicly display the موسیقی without being shunned سے طرف کی all; no one is going to want to hear it if it is being filtered into their habitat on some loud radio in the middle of the night.”
Kowalski thought some more. “And I think I know just the two animals who can help me.”
