Alright, let's make this snappy, since I have shipwork to attend to. But basically, something TERRIBLE has just happened! You see, Gusto's identical cousin, Gusto, has come aboard our ship! It all happened in a fateful twist of events:
It was a fairly stormy night (about 64.36/100 on the Encyclophobaticsburg Storm Rating Scale) when the crew was mainly relaxing after a hard day's work of playing "Spot-a-Seagull". Zora was polishing a certain horn collection, Nadine was happily making paper snowflakes out of Chizu's Thermonuclear Reactor book, and Chizu was placing an order for a new copy of said book. Nobody knows what Eréndira was doing, as usual, and I was building an improved model of my beach-ball skis. Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning, and I saw the mast of a ship outlined in the fog. Calling all crew to alert, we went through our escape procedures, in case Hot Dog Silver had returned. However, it turned out to only be Gusto’s private yacht (guess who gave it to him? Hint: It starts with a “C” and ends with a “hizu”). Anyway, he came aboard and went into the cabin. Then, he came aboard and went into the cabin. As you may be able to tell, it’s a little confusing to see even such an evil penguin as this one doing the same thing twice, so I went to investigate, and discovered that he had brought his cousin aboard.
We (the ship’s crew, that is) called a meeting immediately, and for some reason Eréndira went off to make small embellished invitations even though everyone was already there. The rest of us decided that we would have to build a private spa to accommodate this newest member (strangely, now that I think of it, I think that was Chizu’s idea). First, though, we had to get the names straight. We decided to call Gusto’s cousin “Gusto II”, and as soon as that was decided, Zora blew a ceremonial horn and the decision was settled. Chizu began drawing up elaborate blueprints, and the rest of us went to Gusto’s room to tell him not to get up to much mischief.
As soon as we arrived, Gusto and Gusto II hastily hid some France travel brochures, and angrily demanded that we leave. We declared that we needed some sort of distinction between the two if Gusto II was to stay on board, and the whole event came down to a vicious stare-off between us. Suddenly, a spontaneous tidal wave of paper blasted into the room, and Eréndira proudly came in to show us her fabulous invitations (The front cover featured a flower pot with seventeen dolphins and a lamp sticking out of it, so I decided not to open any.)
Nadine had the brilliant idea of leaving Gusto and Gusto II to clean up, so in the confusion we escaped to the Conservatory, where Chizu was crying about some sort of “Out of Stock” page on the computer. At least we had escaped the little penguin menaces.