WHAT KIND OF FRIEND ARE YOU?

"Look!" said The Penguin. "I brought you this lovely bottle of cognac brandy."

"Brandy," sighed The Pirate. "She's a fine girl."

"No, a drink. A French drink, I think. I went to a lot of trouble to get it for you"

"Arrgh, she was a Russian lass. Met her in Taganrog. What a good wife she would have been."

"That saucy barmaid? Are you pining after that saucy wench? I thought you missed me, your friend," cried The Penguin.

"I told her--my life--my lover and my lady--is the sea."

"So what are you saying?" said The Penguin. "This grief is not for me?"

"You're here," said The Pirate. "She's serving a hundred ships a day on a western bay."

"I spent a week as a can of sardines on account of you!"

"She wears a locket with my picture."

"Really? Where did you steal the locket from?'

"Not important. They got over it," said The Pirate. "But I am glad to see you. Let's have that bottle, then."

"I'm not so sure," said The Penguin. "What kind of friend are you?"

"You are my best friend," insisted The Pirate. "You made me grow a heart. Now I remember that Barmaid and how wonderfully saucy she was."

"So it's my fault you miss her more than me."

"Arrg. She loved me. Or at least my sailors stories."

"Don't you want to hear about my adventures inside of Rex's stomach? And how we broke out?"

"Do you think maybe my heart is broken?" wondered The Pirate aloud.

The Penguin wondered quietly if maybe it was his that was broken.