Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE Oh. CRACKLE

Oh no! Out of the fire, into the frying pan. Who are you calling a frying pan? Who are you and why did you save me? And how can you speak Penguish? Aren't you a bird of prey? AM I PREY NOW?!

You ask too many questions, kid. The name's Tiberius. I saved you because... because birds of a feather stick together. What does that mean? It's an idiom. Who are you calling an idiot?!

You're making my head hurt. Let's play the Quiet Game. My name is Splash. That's not quiet. How can you speak Penguish, Tiberius? You don't know how to play the Quiet Game, do you? I know lots of bird dialects. You just know Penguish? Just Penguish. I think it's the main one? Which others are there? The main one, HAH!

Sorry. I'm trying not to judge. I suppose you're quite cut off from the world in Antarctica. Is that where you're from? Though, Antartica... surely you know a bit of Albatrosh? Well, I don't. Well, I'm fluent in Flamingan... Robinese... Thrussian... Budgerigarian. I know some Swannish too but I don't get much practice in. I tend to avoid swans. Crabby bunch.

Wow. Did you learn all those from your teacher? No. At the School of Life, kid. Are you a vulture? I am. Does that mean you eat dead stuff?