NORTHERN LIGHTS, UKAHALA–Major Arne continues the tales of the Prior Bumble ancestral legacy with the story of Captain Hamilton Bumble, a newspaper mogul who would be very proud of The RFCP Times-Dispatch!
One evening, Gen. Sillabye was waddling around the forest.
She was looking for an exotic puffle to bring home, or, at the very least, some new spice for Sgt. Cookie’s newest dish (Maj. Arne tended to do simpler cooking). She didn’t find either, and eventually, she found herself entering the penguin igloo neighborhood. Fine, she thought. I can always pay the low low fee of 2,000 coins for a puffle, or just check the mall. She sighed, disappointed.
Silla gave up and decided to waddle to her home, but on the way there, she saw a particularly big igloo nearby. “Ooh, something smells good over there,” she said, “and–are those children books?” Sillabye had a slight suspicion regarding who the owner of that igloo was, so she hit the door with her flipper thrice. After a few seconds, a tall, purple penguin opened a hutch at the window and looked at Sillabye.
“Hey, Commander Prior! I’m sorry to bother you,” Sillabye said as the door opened.
“Don’t worry, my daughter,” Prior said with a smile. The warmth of his home greeted her from inside. “What can I help you with?”
“Well, I had a day off, and I didn’t have much to do, so I went to search for stuff in the forest. But it’s getting dark now, so I was waddling to my house, and here we are,” Silla explained.
“Why not come in and we can talk for a while?” Prior suggested, as he stepped back to let her in the igloo.
“Got any hot cocoa or anything? I forgot to bring a jacket,” Silla asks as she walks into the extravagant igloo. On the walls were military medals, Feddies, and fragments of a destroyed ACP helmet.
“Well, we just passed Christmastime, so you bet I do,” Prior shut the door from the cold and followed her in.
Sillabye and Prior walked into the living room. There were great armchairs and, as per usual, big fat oil paintings of pleasing backgrounds alongside portraits of penguins similar to Prior. It smelled of cigar smoke and lemon from Prior’s Fiji water. Silla sat down in a cozy armchair while Prior started making her drink. While waiting, she looked at some of the pictures in the hallway. The landscapes were signed by Eugegard Bumble, but the portraits were of all different kinds. Sillabye had already heard from other soldiers the stories of some of the portraits–there was Woodrow Bumble holding the Vial of Tears, hung over Prior’s RFCP uniform–but one painting in particular caught her attention.
Between the portrait paintings of Runeard and Eugegard Bumble, there was someone she hadn’t ever heard of before.
“Prior, who is that guy?” Silla pointed to the portrait.
“Oh, that’s Hamilton Bumble,” Prior said as he brought in a tray with the cocoa.
“Is that a Hamilton-the-musical joke?” Silla asks, trying to suppress a smile.
“What is Hamilton-the-musical?” Prior asks, genuinely confused.
“Never mind…” Silla says, still admiring the portrait.
“Hamilton Bumble was my great, great-grandpa. Founder of the Club Penguin Times, and a tremendously skilled writer. He was always writing like he was running out of time,” Prior explains. “Maybe that’s where the name for the newspaper came from.”
“Hamilton Bumble was Runeard’s grandson and Eugegard’s father. He was born around the Penguin Chat 2 era when there were barely any buildings. Hamilton enjoyed talking to people a lot and writing down what he learned from them, from the Experimental Beta Generation to the Penguin Chat 1 Generation. He was an avid learner, who enjoyed reading about History and Fiction. He also tried writing his own stories, but they didn’t turn out that well at first. He trained by writing more, and his stories eventually got better, to the point in which some of those short initial tales he wrote would later be compiled into the three Penguin Tales Volumes. Eventually, the word got around about his work and the other penguins said: ‘This kids ability is insane!'” Prior said, trailing off as he heard Sillabye giggle.
“What is it, dear?” Prior looked over at her, frowning at the interruption.
“Nothing. Keep going,” Silla said, eager to hear more.
“A twenty-year-old Hamilton was eventually approached by a soon-to-be mother, none other than a green penguin with glasses called Jane Arctic. Jane had heard of Hamilton’s stories and incredible writing abilities, so she had an idea. Jane proposed the idea of him writing a weekly newspaper to pass around information to the Island in a more trustworthy and speedy manner. More and more penguins were moving to the island, too, so it was a growing market. She would provide the funds and take a split of the earnings,” Prior said, taking a sip of his cocoa before continuing.
“However, she had one condition: she would only help if her daughter would get a high position in the newspaper once she was old enough to write as well. Hamilton agreed, and three weeks later, they had the first number of The Club Penguin Times. Hamilton was proud of the newspaper, and so appeared to be the islanders, as sales steadily grew and everyone read it. People were treating being interviewed by the Penguin Times, appearing on it, or just being mentioned in it as a great honor.” Prior smiled.
“The newspaper grew tremendously as it began adding some fan-made content and hired more people to write, print, and sell the newspaper. With the money earned, they opened a small library, though they called it the ‘Book Room’ because they thought it might be more attractive to nonreaders. They leased the floor below to the Coffee Shop to offset some of the cost. Both did well enough to afford better décor and mancala boards. Eventually, it became a self-sustainable business, and Jane took over as supervisor, while Hamilton was the Editor-in-Chief,” Prior said.
“There have been rumors of an amorous connection between the two, but Hamilton was a cautious man. He knew Jane was married, so he stayed away from a relationship, but they were still good friends. Hamilton instead met a woman named Sally, and they married one year later. They had a kid, called Eugegard. Jane then gave birth to a healthy baby soon after the inauguration of the Book Room. The baby grew up acquiring a love for reading and writing. Jane’s daughter was almost like a sister to Eugegard, and the two families grew close. They liked giving suggestions to their parents about the newspaper, but Eugegard never wanted the business, so he enlisted in the mariners instead, and, of course, engaged in war against the Kerv’at Noot tribe.” Prior took a moment of silence to remember this monumental war. “Eventually, Hamilton retired, and he allowed an apprentice to take over as Editor-in-Chief while waiting for Jane’s daughter to be old enough to assume the position. Hamilton enjoyed a peaceful life, and saw the birth of his first grandson, Woodrow Bumble. Woodrow was a pretty active baby, and he learned to talk quickly. He called Jane’s daughter “Aunt Arctic,” because he thought she was related to the Bumbles.
After Woodrow’s tragic disappearance, Jane’s daughter took the nickname and made it her public name.” Prior said, looking at the latest edition of the The Club Penguin Times on his coffee table.
“Jane died in her sleep soon after Woodrow’s disappearance, so Hamilton figured it was a good moment to name her daughter the Editor-in-Chief to cheer her up and renovate the newspaper soon after the reinauguration of the island as Club Penguin Island. Sadly enough, Hamilton was visiting a friend during the Color Wars, and the igloo was raided. Hamilton and his friend were tragically killed that day, aged 94 and 89, respectively.” Prior gazed into the flames of his hearth.
“Aunt Arctic, who always saw Hamilton as a mentor–she even jokingly called him “Captain”–was devastated, but she was determined to carry the newspaper through the Color War and to help Eugegard reunite with Woodrow Bumble, before his death. She also compiled some of his tales for the Book Room. Hamilton, his stories, and his memory lived on, through The Club Penguin Times.” Prior took a deep breath as he finished both his story and his cocoa.
“That was impressive,” said Sillabye. “And they didn’t even rap once.” She sipped some hot cocoa.
“Can you tell me what that Hamilton musical thing is?” replied Prior.
“Oh, you bet I’ll tell you ALL there is to know about it,” Sillabye said with a grin.
“This will be fun.” Prior chuckled, eager to hear her story as she had been to hear his.
Filed under: Bumble Ancestors
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