Original subtitles

NARRATOR: And now, DreamWorks-- "The Penguins of Madagascar."

-Cute and cuddly, boys.

Ah, a brand new baby day is born.

Freshly spanked, full of promise,

adventure, and the hope of inflicting pain.

-Yay, pain!

-Good morning, baby day.

--[SIGHS] But Skipper, why do we have to start so early?

Wouldn't the promise and hope still

be there if we waited until sunup to exercise?

-Maybe, Kowalski.

But why take the chance?

All right, gentlemen, toe touches.

Remember not to bend your knees.

-Have we got knees?

-Ah, Carlotta.

I like the way you touch my feet.

Hey, Maurice!

I'm not adequately sleeped.

Hit the sun's snooze button.

Maurice, I'm decreeing.

Maurice!

Why are you not here?

-I'm here.

Woah!

-Maurice!

Hello!

Maurice!

-He was my right hand man.

And now my right hand is left manless.

There he is.

Come, Mort.

I shall give Maurice's tongue a lashing.

-OK, listen up.

Now, here's how it will go down.

-What is Morris doing?

-Now, we've got to keep this one the hush hush.

-Gotcha.

-Not a word to Julien.

We don't want him to see this coming.

-OK.

-Trust me, this will knock him right off his throat.

-All right, baby.

-Yeah.

We're going to blow King Julien away.

--[GASPS] I have been a good king, have I not, Mort?

-Well, I could use more foot time.

You are the best king ever.

-So why would Maurice be savagely plotting

to knock me off and blow me away?

-Maybe he's planning a surprise party for you.

-But is it my birthday?

Is it King Julien day?

Is it Julien day?

-No, and no, and maybe.

-So Maurice could not be planning

a surprise party for me, could he?

No, the real surprise is Maurice wants to put me six feet under.

-I'd like to be under six feet.

-This fiendish plot will be foiled.

Maybe plastic wraps, too.

Mort, we must train for battle.

Cadet No Class Mort, are the coconuts ready?

-Yes, Generalissimo King Julien.

-Ready, aim, throw the coconuts!

Yes, stinky Maurice.

You are stinky!

You make my nose turn with your stinky stink!

-Take that, traitor!

How are you liking me now?

-Oops.

It was a good throw, though.

-Situps, 50 reps.

Ready?

And--

-Sad Eyes, what gives?

-I think I'm a coconut.

-Mort, you dud.

You made me miss.

-Sorry.

Sorry, Generalissimo King Julien!

-Whoa, whoa!

Oh, wait a minute.

Generalissimo?

-That's right, baby.

Check me out.

I, too, am a military guy.

[MUMBLES]

-You are a disgrace to the uniform-- even that uniform.

-Which is a disgrace unto itself.

-Why do you even need a uniform?

-Because Maurice has turned traitor,

and he's getting the whole zoo, and [INAUDIBLE]

is forming a violent mob.

Kings and violent mobs are natural enemies in the wild.

-But that doesn't make sense.

Maurice is incredibly devoted to you.

-Beyond reason or merit.

-All right, Ringtail.

We'll look into this cockamamie conspiracy of yours.

-OK, this is good.

Can I have my Generalissimo hat back?

-No.

-Violent mob.

If there was such a thing, I would have started it.

-Everybody get a pitchfork and a torch.

And remember, not a peep to King Julien.

This is going to slay him.

[CHEERING]

-Sweet civil unrest!

Ringtail was right.

-But Skipper, don't you think there might

be some other innocent explanation?

-Do the maths, Private.

-Pitchforks plus torches plus mob invariably equals--

-Revolution!

So now you are seeing the plotting, seeing the scheming.

You're seeing the rousing of the rebels.

-I still have a hard time believing

Maurice could turn traitor.

-In a twisted way, it makes sense.

You see, for a mammal, Maurice is extraordinarily intelligent.

-Might want to wait a while before you go back in there.

-Meanwhile, Julien is extraordinarily not.

-Stop staring at me, buddy.

You better step off.

-Julien, that's a stuffed fish.

-Burn!

He got you good.

Admit it.

-This red line shows the frustration level

of a really smart person forced to take orders

from some dunder-brained boob.

As you can see, the frustration just

keeps rising and rising and rising.

I mean, why don't they put the smart guy in charge, huh?

It doesn't make any sense!

Something has got to give, people!

Am I the only one seeing this?

-Great, love the passion.

Message went right over.

-Yeah.

Someday there will be genius justice.

-So, what do we do, Skipper?

-Nothing.

I have my royal defence force to protect me.

Mort!

-I smell fishies!

-Yeah, that's not going to work.

-Now, it's no secret that I don't care for Ringtail.

-Likewise, [MUMBLES].

-But we can't stand by while an angry mob shreds him to pieces.

-Sweetness!

Set my alarm for when my enemies have been crushed.

-Negative!

You're going to fully participate

in this joint penguin lemur operation.

-But Skipper, I'm a lover, not a fighter.

-Don't worry about that, Ringtail.

Basic training will kick the love right out of you.

-You keep dreaming.

One.

Two.

-Let me hear it, soldier.

-This is my pea shooter.

There are many like it, but this one is mine.

-Yummy peas.

-Ten.

Eleven.

-(SINGING) I don't know, but I've been

told Antarctica is mighty cold.

-Nineteen.

Twenty!

-OK.

So maybe we don't put them on the front lines.

Men, as you know, the best defence is a good offence.

-And no one is more offensive than you.

You are so snapped!

Please continue.

-We'll strike before Maurice's little coup gets too cuckoo.

Gentlemen, Operation "We're Really Helping Julien, Really?"

is a go.

-So, where is the king?

-I am dying to spring this surprise already.

-I don't know where he is.

But he should be here soon.

-Oh, I already am.

Surprised?

Traitors!

Traitors!

-Rico, drop the not-so-smart ball.

-Get it off, get it off, get it off!

-This is not going to end well.

-OK, boys.

Let's get in the game.

-This will teach you to be a traitor, snake!

-Wait, wait!

What?

-Everybody, knock it off!

-What do you mean, traitorous?

-Oh, don't play dummy with me.

I know what you are planning here, Maurice.

-You do?

Oh, man.

Who blabbed about the surprise party?

-Yes.

I know all about your-- wait, traitors say what?

-Oh.

Oops.

-Surprise party?

For who?

-You.

Remember what you said on your birthday

when I threw you that big, old surprise party?

-Well, of course I'm not surprised, Maurice.

It's my birthday.

You know when it might be a surprise?

When it's not my birthday!

-Surprise!

Was he surprised?

-Oh yeah.

Forgot about that.

-I tried to tell you.

-But wait a minute.

Why all the pitchforks and torches?

-Yeah, Maurice.

How do you explain the traditional angry mob

trappings?

-Remember what you said right after the last thing

you forgot you said?

-Wait.

After the last thing I just said?

Hang on.

Let me see.

And give the party a crazy mash up theme like, I don't know,

hillbilly meets tiki or something.

-Oh yeah.

Forgot about that, too.

-So this is all completely innocent after all?

Yay for innocence!

But wait, why weren't we invited?

-Remember what you said right after he said what he said?

-Say, when you get around to having this hillbilly tiki

mash up surprise party, do not invite us!

Ah, yes.

I remember that.

-Come on, men.

We're bugging out.

-Wait, don't go.

If there's someone I would want at my not birthday

hillbilly tiki surprise party, it

is you-- the penguin who taught me

what it means to be an officer and a gentleman.

-Oh, Ringtail, when you put it that way,

I can only say drop and give me 20, soldier!

-Yes, sir.

Mort!

One, and two, and three, and four.

(SINGING)

-OK.

We've seen the rhino, the otter, and the penguins.

-Hey, you know, wasn't there something

weird about those penguins?

-What do you mean?

-Like, were they doing taekwondo?

-He knows too much.

-Take your shot.

-What?

That's crazy talk.

-Yeah, I guess you're right.

-Abort!

-I've always wanted to dabble in the visual arts.

-Let's bug out.

-What happened?

I'm OK.

I'm OK.

-I've done it!

I've just designed a pocket hyperbolic quantum

accelerator that will save civilisation.

-Well, that earns a big 'atta boy.

-Gosh.

-There is, however, a 50% chance the pocket hyperbolic

quantum accelerator could actually destroy civilisation.

-I see one major problem with your invention, Kowalski.

We don't have pockets.

-Skipper, couldn't the 50% chance of worldwide destruction

be a problem, too?

-Private may be on to something.

Rico, what do you think?

-That was my new calculator.

Gone.

Back to this, I guess.

-Rico, destroy the right device this time.

Oh, maybe destroy them all just to be sure.

-OK.

-Wait.

There is no device to destroy.

I haven't built it yet.

It's just a plan-- a very big plan.

-Oh, that's different.

Plans aren't dangerous.

-Oh, man.

-Unless they fall into the wrong hands.

-[MUMBLES]

-No!

I have wasted the best years of my lonely, lonely life

on these plans.

I won't let you destroy them.

Stay close to Papa.

-Postcard reproductions are for sale in the zoovenir shop.

Shh.

The artist approaches.

-Black line right here.

Another one right there.

A squiggle there.

-Kowalski, I don't relish global armageddon.

Except for the part with the mutant vampire motorcycle gangs

that rule the vast wastelands.

Looking forward to throwing down with those boys.

-Skipper.

-But, on the other hand, I look at that scribble,

and it's just so much gobbledygook.

-Life's work, Skipper.

-Anyway, save it or shred it.

You make the call.

-Should I destroy my greatest creation

and deprive civilisation of something wonderful,

or keep it and risk total global annihilation?

-I've never seen him so conflicted.

-Yesterday at the snow cone booth.

-Should I indulge myself with the luscious but familiar

flavours of a blueberry bubblegum?

Or do I venture into to the high risk,

high reward of honeydew lemon?

-Oh, yes.

It was as if time froze.

Well, more like Kowalski froze and time kept going.

And going.

-What's the ruckus?

-Chuck Charles here, live at the Central Park Zoo with the art

world's latest sensation-- a pachyderm

with a penchant for painting.

Arriving on the scene now is famed art critic Bella Bon

Bueno.

Tell us, Bella, is Burt the Elephant the next Andy Warhol?

-The panda was a hack.

-Gentlemen, you are right.

If these plans were to fall into the wrong hands, civilisation

itself would come to an end.

Therefore, they must be destroyed.

-Good move, Kowalski.

It's nice to see you siding with civilisation.

-Pursue those plans.

-No, no, no.

-This does not bode for the abstract animal art movement.

-Critics, what do they know?

-What's this one?

The elephant is going in a bold new direction.

Genius!

This must go straight to the museum

for all the world to savour!

-But that wasn't even mine.

-Oh, nuts!

-This must go straight to the museum

for all the world to savour!

-On the bright side, Kowalski, your work

is the buzz of the art scene.

-Sure, the perfect symmetry of my equation

may look like a harmless abstract.

But any evil genius with a Van Dyke will see the truth.

Let me illustrate.

I am an evil genius visiting the museum.

-Hello there.

-I'm visiting the museum, too.

Can you help me find a rainbow painting?

-Private, stay on message.

-As I was saying, I'm an evil genius visiting the museum.

I wish I had a pocket hyperbolic quantum accelerator

I could use to destroy the world.

Hello.

-That diagram must never see the light of track lighting.

-Good news, artsy elephant.

I have decided to allow you to capture my royal regalness.

-Do what now?

-He wants you to pain him.

-Really?

You sure?

-Yes.

Paint me.

-OK.

-Not me, me.

The canvas.

I want you to put me on the canvas.

-Oh, right.

-Not that--

-Hey, that's actually pretty good.

-Gosh, you really think so?

-Yes.

In fact, I wouldn't mind having multiple copies of that.

You know, to give as gifts.

-Hey, no problem.

-No, wait!

-Can I get one in blue?

-Absolutely.

-One trial ticket, please.

-How old are you?

-One senior ticket, please.

-OK, funny guy.

Let's go.

-Ventilation shaft?

Really, Kowalski?

Seems a tad cliche.

-Ah, cliche-- French for I don't hear

anyone else coming up with anything.

-Hold your ground, men.

-I can't.

-That would be the shiny, smooth metal.

-Hey Kowalski.

What's French for this ain't happening?

[KNOCKING]

-What?

A Trojan horse?

What?

I don't get it.

-It worked?

-But isn't this a cliche, too?

-Nah.

It's a classic.

-Why is that?

-Because it was my idea.

Now!

All right.

Operation "Paint Remover" is a go.

Situation?

-If my self-educated guess is correct,

the diagram should be in the next room.

-Not so fast, Private.

-Alarm lasers.

-Just as I suspected.

Kowalski, options.

-How do you feel about disco?

-Ambivalent.

Why?

-Hit it.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

-On the beat, Rico!

-OK.

Time to shred this puppy.

-I can't let you do that.

Look, its subtle symmetry and form

makes it a truly unique piece of art.

It would be a crime to destroy it.

-It is rather subtle in a, you know, unique symmetry-ish way.

-Yeah.

-Maybe.

But we just can't leave it here where

any odd wandering mad scientist with a Van Dyke

can discover it.

-Oh.

-Ta da!

-Ah.

Without that plus sign, it makes no sense as a schematic.

Though I question the unicorn.

-I like it.

-We're here for the unveiling of the museum's latest

acquisition, the first ever created by a non-human.

And now, world famous art critic Bella

Bon Bueno will do the honours.

-I'm in awe.

This is not right.

Something is different.

Amateurish forgery!

-Amateurish?

-Critics can be so cruel.

-Buck up, soldier.

You may not be recognised as a great artist,

but you are a darn good inventor of devices

that could save the world.

-With only a 50% chance of destroying it.

-There.

And they said my work would never hang at the museum.

-Art.

I still don't get it.