Penguin PalIt all started with a muffin. And despite my best intentions, it went downhill from there, quicker than a walrus on roller skates.Wednesday is Italian Day in the cafeteria. On this particular Wednesday, Mrs. Bagoong and her cooks had worked their usual magicspaghetti with millipede meatballs, eggplant la fungus gnat, and honey-glazed Madagascan Hissing Cockroach muffins.The muffins set off a taste explosion that had my tongue dancing the Madagascan Mambo (or whatever kind of hoofing they do over there).I pushed back from the table and headed over to score another one. Most kids dont get to have seconds.But Im not most kids.Bellying up to the lunch counter, I could tell that the baked goodies had been a hit. All had vanished but one.And that one had Chet Geckos name on it.Hey, Brown Eyes, I said to Mrs. Bagoong. What would itA plump figure barged in front of me. I say, dear madam, he said. Could a poor bloke please have another of those heavenly muffins?Mrs. Bagoongs smile sent dimples burrowing into her scaly face. Why, how you talk, said the big iguana. Theres one left, just for you.She lifted the golden muffin with her tongs.But! I squawked. Thats mine!The queen of the lunchroom raised an eyebrow. Now, now. This charming penguin asked first, and he asked politely.ButMrs. Bagoongs frown could have brought on an eclipse at high noon. Why, Chet Gecko, she said. Im surprised at you. Cant you be generous with the new boy?New boy?I stepped back to size up the muffin thief.His webbed feet were planted wide, to support his swollen belly. The penguins broad butt tapered to a small head, giving him the look of a bowling pin that needed to hit Weight Watchers.Topping it all off were a midnight blue bow tie and bowler that wouldve looked better on a banker than a school kid.Having snagged my treat, the creature turned with a vague smile.Dont believe weve met, he said, extending a flipper. The names Bland. James Bland.He reeked of fermented fish and onions.My eyes watered. I returned the briefest handshake. Gecko. Chet Gecko.Mrs. Bagoong beamed. So nice to see yall getting along. James, youve found a new friend already.Friend? I said. Now, wait justThe lunch ladys glare cut me off like a sushi chef hacking a halibut. Chet will be happy to show you around, introduce you. Her eyes completed the thought: If he ever wants to have seconds in my lunchroom again.I heaved a sigh. A good detective can tell when hes outmaneuvered.All right, Bland. Come on.Good-o, said the penguin. Ta-ta, madam! He waved a flipper at Mrs. Bagoong, who simpered back at him. And if you dont think the sight of a simpering iguana is enough to curdle your French fries, think again.I shuffled toward the nearest table. So, uh, where are you from?Down Under actually, but Ive spent donkeys years in Albion, he said.Living with a donkey?No, living in England.

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Excerpted from Key Lardo by Bruce Hale
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