Palanquin Penguin Props

Mrs Consul recently purchased one of those new Russian Penguin Palanquins for use as a daily runabout. Of course, the salesman ripped her off something fierce. The penguins are willing enough (Emperors I think - big buggers, bigger than her) but his promise that a tin of sardines would get her to the shops and back was just an outright lie. The four of them won't lift her out of the garage for less than a King George Whiting (*each* mind you) and once its time to carry her home from the shops its beaks pointed stubbornly to the air and shuffling feet until the wife shoves a kilo of fresh Tiger Prawns in each fussy gullett.

So, why this big discrepancy in claimed vs. actual fuel efficiency? I've worked out that its the penguins almost complete lack of shoulders that is the problem. They simply don't have them you see... from beak to belly in one smooth line - not a pectoral protuberance in sight. The poor penguins are having to carry the litter with Mrs Consul and her manservants, vast amounts of shopping, assorted cushions rugs and curtains, a large brass samovar and the occasional additional passenger, but lack the most basic necessary body structure to carry out the function for which they are engaged.

After tinkering in the workshop, the solution is simple. I've attached a steel pipe, suitably braced, to each of four old skateboards. The pipes correspond in length to the distance from each penguin's 'heel' (actually its their tarsal flexure, but readers are probably not concerned with that degree of pedantry) to the base of their wing - left wing for the driver's side, right wing for the kerb side (this is Australia remember). Atop each pipe is a bracket to hold the poles of the palanquin. The full weight of the whole contraption is now thus borne by the wheeled skateboards and the penguins are burning much much less energy.

*update*

Buggers are still demanding the same amount of fish! I suspect Mrs Consul has been far too hesitant in brandishing the flat side of her cutlass across their lazy, fluffy arses. I'll never buy a Russian sedan chair again...