Oliver Penguin sat down at his dining room table, where he had placed a smattering of carrots, some cuts of celery, the saltiest of potato chips (They all talked like they had served on a merchant marine ship somewhere on the seven seas), a couple of flaps of pita bread, and some crispy, homemade tortilla chips that were so flaky, they couldn’t hold a job for longer than a couple of minutes. Still, he had the sneaky suspicion that something was missing from his amazing table.
The salt and pepper shaker sat in the center in all their crystal glory. The two brass candlesticks did their best imitation of gold and looked longingly at the porcelain plates they thought could help them earn a layer of karats or 24. The white, taper candles in the brass candlesticks were lit, they were higher than anything else on the table. A couple of purple lilacs, Oliver thought of them as lilac lilacs, but they were really purple, floated in two bowls of clear, diamond cut, glass bowls that were frosted in such a way, cakes, if there had been any, would have been jealous. The silverware gleamed with reflected candlelight. Yet, Oliver Penguin still thought there was something missing. What could it be?
He took inventory again: carrots, celery, cucumbers (He had forgotten to mention them, but they were there, they weren’t missing), potato chips, pita bread, tortilla chips… “AHA!” He put his wing to his forehead. “DIPS!” How could he forget the dips?
Oliver went back into the kitchen, grabbed the dips, put them in bowls, and brought them out to his table. Then he waited. His friends would be over soon; he couldn’t wait to see what they decided for the evening’s entertainment. Would it be a musical or a mystery? It was already a mystery, but when they decided, would it still be a mystery? Maybe they could find something with elements of both.
Read another penguin story: Periwinkle Penguin Paints a Picture