Dave The Penguin by Nick Sambrook

the
Penguin God had moved again, and that his new home had been
revealed to one of them in a vision one night. God was now in some
invisible dimension, and he had given a long list of more
revelations.
    The elder read through
the list, and the Penguin God seemed to be using the same sort of
words and ancient way of speaking as he had used when he spoke on
top of the mountain. He had also become angry with those that had
questioned his existence and his nature.
    Anyone so doing so in the
future, he continued, would spend all of eternity in the deep, dark
penguin volcanic lava toilet cave under the ground…
    There were gasps.
    Everyone knew about the fiery
toilet cave. Everyone…
    Then, slowly, they all turned
and looked straight at Dave.
    Dave took a step backwards into
the space that was now clearing all around him, and suddenly the
bruises on his body were the last thing on his mind.
    Now Dave was good at thinking
on his feet, which considering he rarely, if ever, laid down, was
just as well. He recognised the somewhat frosty glares, the
uncompromising ignorance, the collective resistance to change of
several hundred penguins all of one mind. He also noted the
multitude of rocks and stones around, and decided to ‘take the
initiative’.
    “I will,” said Dave tentatively
“Venture forth and find this invisible dimension and humbly
apologise to the almighty Elephant Penguin God, and beg his
forgiveness, and I shall not return until I do.”
    That got
them….
    Dave could sense the
logic gears churning in the minds of the penguins, trying to work
out if he was politically outsmarting them, if he was genuine, or
in fact for the most part – what the bloody hell he was going on
about.
    What else could he do? They
weren’t being allowed to see things from his perspective, they
couldn’t or didn’t want to come out of their programmed comfy quilt
bubbles of belief and control. They could not see things from his
viewpoint, it was too ‘difficult’, too ‘unprotected’, and they were
much happier being safely inside their protected hypnotised terra
firma perceptive couch potato worlds.
    Change, after all, was
always difficult, especially when you didn’t know any different,
when it wasn’t necessary, when you couldn’t see anything wrong, and
when you were programmed to do set things.
    Yet before they had even got
onto the metaphysical discussions with reference to the elephant,
Dave had already decided not to wait around.
    He didn’t wait for the
interrupt protocols, the logic circuits of the mental control and
belief structures to resolve themselves and invoke action, along
with the accompanying rocks and pitchforks. He simply headed in the
direction of the hills in the distance at quite some speed; at a
rate that was impressive even for him.
     
    He was in an even worse place
now. After several hours of waddling he reached the base of one of
the smaller hills that formed part of the foothills of the largest
mountain in the area.
    He didn’t have a clue why he
had walked that way; it was just big, and there, and something to
head for, away from trouble.
    Now his feet hurt and he was
tired and hungry, and he was breathing hard.
    He stopped to catch his
breath; he felt quite giddy. It was
surprisingly beautiful here, quiet, unspoiled, pristine. The giant
rocky snow- covered mountain above him was mirrored in the ice
sheet before him.
    It looked just like two
mountains, one the upside down mirror image of the other. It was so
clear and bright and sharp that it was almost impossible to tell
which mountain was real and which was the reflected image.
    It was then that he saw a pure
powder-white arctic hare (which was very strange considering where
he was). It ran straight towards him and then dashed past him,
almost as if he wasn’t there, and then disappeared down into a hole
in the side of the mountain and vanished.
    Curious thought Dave.
    Now Dave was sensible, and he
knew that what he was seeing wasn’t real,