"What the-? Who ordered this junk?" Skipper was referring to the "How to cook meals that are just right for your kids" cookbook. "Not me Skippah." "Not me either." Kowalski was marked something on his clipboard. "That would be the twenty-eightieth of the useless packages that was sent to us over the last three week." he explained to the others. "Maybe someone is trying to send us a message." Private suggested.
Skipper rolled his eyes. "Really Private. We collected toys, comic books, bottles, milk, diapers, ect from those mysterious boxes. If someone wanted to tell us something, he could´ve just sent us an e-mail. Anyway, Rico. I want you to get rid of this trash." Rico nodded quickly before scooping the pile into his flippers and making his way out the door. He returned, shortly after. But not with empty. Cradled in his strong flippers was a child. Dirty, alone, sleeping. A lemur.