Hello, y'all. This is just an incredibly short one-shot I happened to think of, so enjoy!

A lone, pink car drove across the countryside. It was small for a car – almost like a toy really. If one looked closer, he would be shocked to see four penguins in it – one of them actually driving the car. It would have raised many questions. Thankfully for the penguins, no one was around.

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"How 'bout now?"

"No."

"What about now?"

"No."

A pause.

"Are we there now?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No." Skipper fought to keep his eyes on the road and flippers on wheel. "Now would you hush?"

Private pouted. "I was just trying to make conversation."

Kowalski hid a smile behind the map as Skipper's eye twitched. The scientist coughed into his flipper. "Why don't you take a nap, Private?" he suggested. "Rico's going it."

Private glanced beside him at his teammate. "Rico can sleep through anything," he complained. "Remember the time he slept through that train wreck?"

Kowalski grinned ruefully on behalf of the sleeping penguin. "Fair point."

Skipper sighed. "Why don't we play a game? I'll say the first sentence or so, and we'll go around."

"Oh goodie!" Private clapped his flippers.

"The half-mad veteran grabbed him by the shoulders, spit flying everywhere. 'Beware of the signs!' he choked out."

Private frowned, eyes slightly fearful. "That's not an usual beginning," he noted. "It's somewhat morbid as well."

Skipper flashed him a smirk. "You've gotta do what you've gotta do, Private."

"That made no sense, Skipper."

Abandoning the game, Skipper rolled his eyes and turned to his co-driver, aka his map reader. "How far are we from our destination, Kowalski?"

"Eh, give or take a few miles." Truth be told, Kowalski wasn't sure whether or not he was reading the map upside down.

"Skipper?"

"Yes, Private?"

"Why aren't there any buildings in sight?"

"Good question. Kowalski?"

"Uh…." The scientist flipped the map around. "Sorry. Wrong way." He blinked. "We might be on the wrong road, Skipper."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, we are currently in the middle of a plain."

"And?"

"There's not supposed to be plains near New York."

"Blast it." Skipper stopped the car. "Where are we, then?"

"Near the coast," answered Kowalski the same time Private said, "The Great Plains."

"I'm going to go with…. Private."

"What?" Kowalski was wounded. "Why?"

Skipper patted his back. "Let's face it, Kowalski. You and I both know Private's a better map reader."

Kowalski grumbled. "Fine." He got out of the car and exchanged seats with the younger penguin.

"Private? Direction?"

"Backwards, sir."

"All right then."

There was a slight problem with having Private read the map, however. It required the boy to be awake the entire ride, but map reading itself was a rather boring job. Thus, with Kowalski and Rico snoring away in the back seat, Private found himself gathering his courage. "Skipper?"

"What is it now, Private?"

"I was wondering…."

"Spill."

"Would you mind if I sing road songs?"

Skipper paused, contemplating the matter. "I suppose not," he replied warily.

Private beamed at him. "That's great!" He began singing. "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall."

"That's a nursery rhyme, Private."

"It is, isn't it? Well then…. One hundred bottles of milk on the wall. One hundred bottles of milk. If one—"

Skipper resisted the urge to cover his ears with his flipper, seeing as he needed them to drive. He had a feeling it was going to be a long drive home.

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