Original subtitles

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

-Cute and cuddly, boys.

-This is it.

Although I can't read, I am certain this postcard is

the call to arms we've been waiting for.

-We just need the chimps to confirm it.

-Confirm nothing, Kowalski.

I can feel it in my gut.

Do you doubt by gut?

This gut here?

Do you, gut doubter?

-No, Skipper.

No.

You know I have the utmost respect for your gut.

-Right.

And my gut says this is it, Farmageddon.

Rico, weapons.

[LAUGHING]

-Bring it on!

-It says Private's Uncle Nigel is coming for a visit.

-Uncle Nigel!

Oh joy!

[EXPLOSION]

MAN: My car!

-So I was on the hunt for a rare, rough fruited buttercup.

-It's a flower.

-Oh.

-Circled the globe twice over only

to find the tricky devil right there in my own cottage garden.

Dear me.

[EXAGGERATED LAUGHTER]

-Wait, what?

-Oh Uncle Nigel, another smashing story.

I'm so glad you found the time to visit.

-Well, it was nothing but a skip across the pond,

well worth it for my favourite nephew.

I had such a doily when I was a lad.

Hand knitted a tea cosy.

Hairpin lace doily, the prize of the daffodil contest--

-Doilies, doilies, doilies.

We need a distraction.

-I am on it.

-How about that?

I seem to have sent the power core into overload.

Clumsy me.

-Really, Kowalski?

That's your distraction?

-It was the first thing that came to mind.

-Distraction?

-Nothing, Private.

Nothing at all. come on, men.

Let's go have some fun with anti-matter rods.

[CHEERING]

-Righty-o, lads.

We'd best get on the st--

-No, no, Nigel.

Stay with Private and tell him more

of those delightfully stupefying stories.

-All right, then.

I shall.

-Tell 'em all.

Get 'em out of your system, please.

-So, just when I thought I'd found

the perfect doily-- right.

They're gone.

Now I can proceed with my true mission.

-Mission?

-Hush, hush, boy.

Hy probability of dicey.

-Dicey?

Uncle Nigel, what are you talking about?

-The old spy game.

Why, surely you suspected.

-You're a spy?

[YELLING]

-And of course, Aunty Polly [INAUDIBLE]

absolutely refused to-- of course I'm a spy, lad.

-What is that?

-Oh, just a little something the boys in the lab

have whipped up.

Then Cousin Dicky-- Ah, my target

it is indeed somewhere in the central park.

-But you can't be a spy.

The buttercups, the knitting, the doilies.

-Rubbish for the ruse, boy, the trappings

of the deep cover life.

By the by, compliments on your own cover, Private.

No one would ever suspect you to be

anything but a hopeless Nancy cat.

I mean, look at this bit of stuff and nonsense.

Brilliant and bright.

-All-- all part of my cover.

[YELLING]

-It burns!

It burns!

-Teacups, crumpets, Battenburg.

Right.

Now my target is the vilest of vermin, the red squirrel.

-The red squirrel?

[LAUGHING]

-Uncle Nigel, there is no red squirrel.

He's just a myth.

-He's a tricky customer sure enough.

50 years unseen by any and all, but that's about to change.

Quickly, lad.

The game's afoot.

-Uncle Nigel, please, the red squirrel is a fairy tale.

-Pay attention because I'm only going to say this

once unless, of course, at my discretion,

I choose to repeat it.

The red squirrel is real.

-Uncle Nigel, that's impossible because he doesn't exist.

-But how?

I don't-- I can't--

-Who's a brave soldier?

You disarm the missile.

I've got an engagement with Sciurius Vulgaris.

-Well, done, Agent Nigel.

I'm impressed-- [YELLING] the sun!

All those years underground, I got the light sensitivity,

and I got it bad.

-The red squirrel is real?

Really real?

Really?

-Lad, don't make me beak slap you again.

-Right.

-Shall we, Red?

-What's your nefarious plan this time?

-The toxin in that missile will make acorns so large they

will destroy all other plant life.

-50 years of planning and you come up with that?

-I like acorns a lot.

-Oh yes.

Oh dear.

-Surrender, Red.

-Sorry, Agent Nigel, but I have a previously scheduled launch

date.

-Oh.

Nasty place for a launch button.

[EXPLOSION]

-Private!

Get off of there, lad!

-No!

I can--

[YELLING]

-Throwing yourself into the bowels of the beast.

Gutsy move.

-And-- and a completely intentional one, too.

Totally not an accident.

-50 years of my life, kaput!

You birds are so annoying, but the red squirrel

will rise again.

-Blast!

-Guys, guys, guys, you won't believe it!

Uncle Nigel and I fought the red squirrel.

-You called it, Private.

I don't believe it.

-The scenario seems unlikely, given the red squirrel's lack

of existence and Uncle Nigel's--

-Oh dear.

Crushed my crumpet.

-Um, that.

-No.

Uncle Nigel, tell them about the red squirrel.

It's OK.

You can trust them.

He's-- he's really a dashing and not at all dappy spy.

-Yeah right.

-Oh my boy, are you having a laugh?

Good show, though I can't say I understand it.

Perhaps we can decipher it all over a cuppa and biscuits.

Private, would you mind?

-What?

Fine.

-That boy and his imagination.

Tall tales and short stories, eh?

-Hm.

-No!

-What?

What happened?

-I am what happened, the red squirrel.

-Impossible.

You don't exist.

-Right.

You go on thinking that.

Meanwhile, I've incapacitated the world's greatest penguin

agent, and now there is no one who

can possibly stop my mad plans.

-I may be locked up, Red, but I'm hardly incapacitated.

-Who is talking about you?

I am speaking of super secret agent Nigel.

-What?

Secret agent, me?

You've got the wrong fellow, old bean.

Guess the ruse is up.

Ah well.

Had a good run.

-You?

You actually are a super secret agent?

-Hello.

Welcome to the show.

You're late, but we saved you a seat.

-I guess we owe Private an apology.

I'd rather it was cash.

Private?

-I had some trouble with the kettle, but-- hello?

Oh no!

-No matter.

This Private penguin, he is bumble headed ninny.

He is no threat.

-Ha!

The old rube has fallen for it.

He actually believes Private's Nancy cat front.

-Um, ooh.

-Oh, Princess Selfrespectra, what do I do?

How can I possibly stop Red Squirrel by myself?

[SQUEAKS]

-Hang about.

Where is that trap door?

Maybe it was this one or this one.

I thought for sure it was one of these--

-Here comes our rescue, boys.

-Is this how you come to fight, with a toy?

-Yes.

Yes, it is.

-Brilliant!

Even in the heat of battle, he's a complete fancy pants.

Dedication to a cover story.

That's what that is.

-Ha!

Yeah.

-You realise how ridiculous you look with your horned pony?

-You're just jealous I have a Lunacorn and you don't.

-What?

Of course not.

It is soft and weak like you.

-Jealous.

-I am not.

-Jealous.

-In fact, I am going to rip it apart right before your eyes.

-Actually, it was your eye I was thinking about.

-What do you mean by--

[YELLING]

-So bright!

-Top notch work, Private.

Well, Red, shall we finish this?

-Another time, so dasvedanye.

-Nuts.

That squirrely son of a gun has slipped away.

-Yes, but we've seized his secret base.

[ALARM BEEPING]

-Which is apparently set to self destruct.

-Again, again!

-Sorry, Rico.

An evil lair can only self destruct once.

-Oh, man.

-Thanks for the hospitality, chaps.

I'll let everyone at HQ know what a bang up job you

all did, especially you, Private.

You almost had me convinced you were

a plush hugging twirlabout.

-Well, you know the funny thing about

that is Private actually is a--

-Grateful.

Grateful for everything I've learned from you, Uncle Nigel.

-Oh yes.

L-O-L indeed.

[TELEPHONE RINGING]

-What is it?

SKIPPER: And you're certain of this?

-I'm afraid so.

This came straight from Alice's office.

It says he has something called ofu-olosega.

-Hm.

Exotic and hard to pronounce.

I don't like it.

-Skipper, the document appears to be authentic.

Yes, without a doubt, it's paper.

-Let's not jump to conclusions on incomplete facts

or faxed paper.

Remember what happened to Manfredi and Johnson?

-The order was to smother them with affection.

-Oh.

Only hurt the first half.

-That's why we double check.

-It's kind of hard to read.

Something about Maurice having only 24 hours left.

-Skipper, it's true.

Maurice has only until tomorrow morning to live.

-Get out your handkerchiefs, people.

-Hey!

Wait!

Wait for me.

What is being so important and why did I

have to find some business to keep Maurice away?

I sent him to the park to gather walnuts,

and I am hating walnuts, so he's going to be in so much trouble

when he returns.

It's going to be great.

-Take a seat, Ringtail.

We've got some bad news.

-It appears that Maurice has tofubolusagway.

-And he only has until tomorrow morning.

-Until what, exactly?

[CHOKING]

[WAILING]

-No!

It cannot be!

I cannot lose my bestest friend in the whole wide world.

-Best friend?

But you're always--

-What?

Ordering him around and beratifying him?

You know nothing of the subtleties of friendship.

[SOBBING]

-You have to do something!

-Sorry, Ringtail.

The Grim Reaper is one foe I can't fight.

He's got no face.

It freaks me out.

-Well, someone's going to have to tell Maurice.

-Can we avoid the call for volunteers

that always ends up being me?

-Wait, wait, hold up.

Why does he have to know?

Why don't we all just make sure that Maurice's

last day is the best he's ever had?

-Marlene, that's a brilliant idea.

-Maurice!

I Here, let me help you.

So how was your day?

[CHOKING]

-Walnuts!

-Thank you.

-But King Julien, you sent me out to get those walnuts.

-Yeah.

You know when you love something and hate it at the same time?

-No.

MORT: I do!

-Well, I would love and hate for you to be comfortable,

so sit upon my throne.

Here, you do it.

I'm tired.

-What's going on?

Am I in trouble?

-Trouble?

No.

Can't two buddies just be hanging out, man?

-Buddies?

-Yeah, you know, buddies.

Come on.

Let's go toss the old coconut around like the old times.

-You and I have never tossed a coconut or anything anywhere.

-Oh.

That did not just happen.

-It's go time.

-Who's throwing coconuts over there?

-Whew!

That was close.

Oh no!

What have I done?

Do not be pounding on my doomed body.

Do it to, you know, Mort instead.

-Please don't.

-Yo, we ain't pounding nobody.

-We're just having fun with our good friend Maurice.

-What was that doomed part you were saying back there?

-Have a banana.

Have two.

They're full of potassium and whatnot.

-Look, fellas, I don't want to be ungrateful.

I just want to relax.

-Hey, Maurice.

Let me carry you home.

-What is wrong with everyone?

Why are they all acting so nice and creepy?

-Maybe they know you're going to die.

Your hair!

I mean you dye your hair.

-Yes.

I mean no.

I mean what?

Skipper, I-- I wish there was something

we could do for Maurice.

-I know, Private, I know.

-I was just talking with Mason and Phil.

We may have found a cure for old rutabaga.

This flower, the dendrobium orchid.

It must be the cure.

-All right.

Where can we find one of these tropical beauties?

-Oh!

Oh!

-Tough to say.

They're found throughout the Philippines,

Borneo, Australia, New Guinea.

-We could never get there in time.

-Hey!

Right over here.

Would you look?

-The orchid!

-It's in the florist's shop!

-Huh.

Who'd have thunk it?

-Hey.

I am peeking your boo.

-Hello!

-Stop it!

I just want to be left alone.

Everyone's so--

-Touchy?

Bushy?

Royal?

No.

That last one would just be me.

-Snack?

-Checkers?

I don't even know how to play, so letting you win

should be easy.

Hey, how about a footsie rub?

Or maybe you'd like to wear the royal crown.

-You're bugging me to death.

-Mort!

You should know better than to do the bugging to death.

-But I did not do the D word.

-Is this not the best day you've ever

had in your whole short, miserable-- happy-- life?

-My wh--

-Target in sight, Skipper.

-Attack stack man.

-It's locked.

-Private, looks like you'll get your chance

to volunteer after all.

-At least now I know why volunteers ends in "tears."

-This place is impenetrable.

-Kowalski, more options, less excuses.

Hm.

-I got to admit, this is pretty nice.

-So then you might say this is the best day of your life.

-Sure.

OK.

But this throne is a little hard when you sit on it for long.

-I bring the pillows!

-Yeah.

Here's some cushy for the tooshie.

-No.

That's not what I'm talking about.

What I need is--

-More pillows!

Hey!

Comfy now?

-Yeah.

Dandy.

Please stop!

-After working this hard--

[YELLING]

-What was that splishy splash sound?

-Right on target.

Steady, steady.

[YELLING]

-Man.

Down.

Pull him out of there!

-The security around that orchid is insidious.

Why are you staring at me with your beaks

frozen in sickly grimace?

[YELLING]

-OK.

I've had enough for this.

I want to go to bed.

I'm dead tired.

-No!

Do not be saying that.

No sleeping or lying down of any sort,

especially not the dead sort.

You-- you need to be shaking your groovy thing.

-Are you kidding?

-Be shutting up and getting down.

-Ready for Operation Corsage.

-Then let's go to the prom.

-Nailed it.

Now just a little, no, back.

To your left, right, up, down.

No, your other down.

Maybe a curlicue.

-Skipper!

We've got it!

-Good work, Private.

-Fine.

Do it the easy way.

-Work.

Work that booty.

-I'm dead.

I just can't.

-Yes, you can, Maurice.

The beat won't stop so neither should--

[SOBBING]

-He had so much to live for.

Look at him.

So much more booty shaking to do.

So much more getting things done and doing things.

-We're too late.

[SNORING]

-He's still breathing!

Quite loudly.

[CHOKING]

-OK.

I've had it.

Everybody been bugging me all day long

and keeping me up all night.

I'm fed up!

What's going on?

-Well, mammal, this document addressed to you

informed us that you were dying from ofasaliva.

-Your one hope was the dendrobium orchid.

-What?

-No need to thank us.

All in a night's work.

-Maurice!

Another junk fax came for you. "Maurice, you have only

24 hours to live the life of your dreams

on the island Ofu Olosega."

-Hey!

That's the home of the dendrobium orchid.

WOMAN: Whatever.

-Oh.

-Oh.

Thank goodness you're being OK.

Oh, I was so worried I was catering to your every need.

I fed you all my yummies, even my walnuts.

And you-- you are the one who got me these.

Hating them.

-You thought I only had 24 hours to live?

-Yes.

And now I am giving you only 24 hours to live

after what you put me through.

-So it was all a misunderstanding.

-The best kind of misunderstanding,

fueled by tragedy but loaded with hijinks.

-Ah well.

On the bright side, Rico's set for the prom.

[SINGING]