Original subtitles

And now DreamWorks the penguins of Madagascar.

[MUSIC PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR THEME SONG]

-Cute and cuddly boys.

[HEAVY METAL MUSIC PLAYING]

-(SINGING) Who is your baby?

King Julien is your baby!

Baby, baby, baby!

Baby!

-Gentlemen, if I'm known for one thing, it's my patience

-Actually, Skipper--

-(ANGRILY) Patience!

I'm known for my saint-like patience.

But this time, those ringtails have pushed me too far.

[HEAVY METAL MUSIC PLAYING]

-Now, blow, big man.

[HORN BLOWING]

[DRUMS AND CYMBALS]

-It's bad enough when they listen to music--

-But it's worse when they make their own.

-This calls for measures, the drasticker, the better-er.

KOWALSKI: And where should I transfer the lemurs?

SKIPPER: What's the furthest point from us?

-The petting zoo.

-Yeah.

All those tiny grabby hands, the nose-pickers, the tail-tuggers.

It's bratatorial combat!

[DEVIOUS LAUGHING]

The petting zoo!

I like it!

-Oh, who's going to be our new neighbour?

Can it be Roger?

I like Roger.

-Kowalski, I'm in a giving mood.

grant the boy his wish.

[DIALLING]

[SIGHING]

-Whoa!

[LOUD THUMP]

MAN (ON RADIO): Hey, yo, Alice, I don't know about this.

The computer says I'm supposed to transfer the lemur to--

-Are you questioning the computer?

The same computer that spits out our paychecks?

MAN (ON RADIO): Excellent point.

[GROANING]

-No!

This is a mistaken thing.

We should not be in this cage.

Well, maybe Mort.

-Hello?

-Hello, Roger.

Welcome to the neighbourhood.

-Thank you, but I--

-You'll find your new home is outfitted

with all the modern conveniences, tiki bar,

bouncy, throne.

[CRASHING]

[BOING]

We can fix that, maybe.

-Rico, warm this house with a tasteful gift.

[WRETCHING]

-Hey, Roger.

-Oh, very nice, very classy.

Thank you.

Thanks.

Um, can I ask one thing?

Doesn't someone else live here?

-Not anymore.

[MANIACAL LAUGHING]

[WHIMPERING]

-Everything in my kingly kingdom,

including my kingly kingdom, is gone.

-Yeah, but we got other things.

-Yeah?

Like what?

MORT: I found a cotton ball doggy.

-Hey, quick question.

Is this guy one of yours?

-Mort, get off the sheep.

-Thanks.

I'm Randy.

Welcome to the land of a thousands hands.

-Yeah, yeah you could keep your welcomes, Randy,

because (GRUNTING) I will not be staying.

[EXHAUSTED SIGHING]

Maurice, I am bushed.

You do the tunnelling to freedom.

-Why?

I think it's kind of nice here.

-Yes, but fortunately I am king, so you don't have to think.

You only have to do.

And now what I, your king, wants you to be doing

is dig, dig, dig.

[THUMP]

[DIGGING]

Eh, Maurice, why are they doing what

I'm telling you to be doing?

-Because you're the king, right?

-Obviously.

With a tail like that?

-Only a king could have a tail so magnificent.

ALL: Yay for the king!

-I'm sorry, but King Julien already has

someone that blindly follows him--

[LOUD KICK]

Whoa!

-We're staying.

ALL: Yay!

-Ya here that, boys?

That's the sweet sound of lemur-free living.

-Hee-Haw!

[LOUD CRASH]

-Ow.

-(NERVOUSLY) Roger, are you OK?

-Well, guys, no.

No, I'm not.

It's just this habitat.

It simply doesn't have the amount of swimmable water

that a wide-bodied boy like myself needs.

-We've got plenty of water in our pool.

-Yeah, dip your skinnies any time you want, neighbour.

Our Habitat es su habitat.

-Cannonball!

[LOUD SPLASH]

ALL: Ah!

[LOUD SPLASH]

[LOUD EXPLOSION]

-Toxic gas!

Evacuate!

[METAL CLANKING]

[COUGHING]

-Stuck.

PRIVATE: (ECHOING) Let us out of here.

[LOUD POUNDING]

SKIPPER: Open up now!

[HUMMING]

That's an order!

[HUMMING]

[LOW MUSIC PLAYING]

[HUMMING]

-(DISAPPOINTINGLY) Oh, no fish.

-I don't understand it.

What happened to our lunch?

-Guys, you're the best.

You're the best.

Leaving that bowl of fish for me.

You're the best.

What was that anyway?

Was that mackerel?

KOWALSKI: This presentation on Dr. Blowhole's lair

is classified, triple top secret for your eyes only and--

[LOUD CRASHING AND SMASHING]

-Guys, guys!

Sorry about that.

[GRUNTING]

-No problem.

I just spent three painstaking weeks building it.

-Listen.

I'm working on an original musical, Gator in the park, OK,

and I'm not sure which lyric is better.

I have lots of teeth at the end of my snout

or if you call me cruel names I'm likely to pout.

Ooh, now that I say it out loud it

should definitely be the second one.

OK, thanks, guys.

-Men, I'm beginning to see a flaw in this plan.

-Why do they get to touch the royal feet?

-Because Mort, they have soft, furry paws.

-But I have soft furry paws too.

-Yes, but they are also cute and adorable.

-But I am cute and adorable too.

-Hmm, yeah, I'm just going to bottom line this for you.

They're not you.

-(ANGRILY) Stupid bunnies.

-Good news, lemurs.

You're going back home.

-Hooray!

-Eh, maybe you penguins are confused.

We are home.

-What, this?

This isn't your home.

-You belong in a habitat customised

to your specific lemurish needs.

-Uh, no, this petting zoo is much better.

Look, I've got way more subjects.

-Ooh, bunnies.

-And they do everything he wants, so I don't have to.

-Yes, when I say hop--

-They say how high?

-Uh, no, they just hop.

Maximum height is a given.

Hop, Fluffy.

[JET ENGINE NOISE]

See?

Mad hops.

So to be honest we really miss the old kingdom not so much.

-I do.

-Forget it.

We didn't need their permission before.

We don't need it now.

-Permission?

Before?

-Fellas, it's time to undo this neighbour swap fiasco.

-Just a few keystrokes--

-Uh-uh.

I was expecting this kind of sneaky Peter tricking from you

penguins.

Touch that computing thingy and face

the wrath of my newest subjects.

-What, the cute bunnies?

-If I am telling them to open up a can of whoop penguin,

then this can will be opened.

[ALL LAUGHING]

Believe you me.

-You can't be serious.

You want us to be afraid of fluffy?

Ooh!

ALL: Whoa!

[WHIMPERING]

-Eh!

-Ah!

[BOUNCING]

[WHIMPERING]

-Wow, I was totally bluffing back there.

I had no idea you really had such sick booty kicking skills.

[LAUGHING]

-Tell you what.

Baby carrots for everyone, that's what.

ALL: Yay for carrots!

-Punches.

They were so cottony.

-It was like a macabre ballet of adorability and pain.

-On the bright side, at least we don't

have Julien singing anymore.

ROGER: (SINGING) Would love a gator like me!

Oh, oh boy.

I hit a clam.

Hold on.

(SINGING HIGH PITCHED CRACKING TONE) Me, me, me.

[GRUNTING]

[SCREAMING]

-What up, birds?

-We're looking for weakness in the enemy.

-The little tyrant, huh?

Yeah, last night he told me to surrender my puffy wooliness

unto him.

Just about surrendered my hoof unto his--

-Then our goals are the same.

The only question is the means.

-Hey, you remember how I got kicked out of here, don't you?

-Yeah, you did a fairly white puncture job on a kid.

-I don't think we'll ever get Julien to bite a zoo visitor.

-Well, who says it has to be him?

[FLAPPING LIPS]

-Randy, underneath that sweater beats a heart of a wolf.

-I bite the people and then we go home?

-Just a nibble, no skin breakage.

-And stupid bunnies stay here?

-Exactly.

-(EXCITEDLY) I'm gonna bite the peoples!

-I want two choco bombs, five gum

breakers, and a large slurp soda.

-Ooh, and zippy sticks.

-10 zippy sticks.

-Skipper?

The Vesuvius twins are sugaring up,

then they'll be en route to the petting zoo.

-10-4 Kowalski.

The Vesuvius twins, perfect.

If anyone deserves Mort's mighty bite,

it's Park Avenue's brattiest.

[MORT CHOMPING]

[LOUD THUD]

-Ow, I'm stuck!

-Get him off of there.

We need those chompers.

-(EXCITEDLY) All right, animals.

-For petting.

-Pull!

The biting window is closing.

[WRETCHING]

[GROANING]

[CHILDREN LAUGHING]

-Find your happy place.

[GRUNTING]

[GROANING]

-Ooh, look at those.

-Monkey things.

-Ooh, fresh meat.

(FRIGHTENDLY) I've changed my mind.

I don't like the petting zoo anymore.

We'll protect you, Your Majesty.

-Puh-ha-ha, from what?

These humans are obviously bringing tributes

of tasty snacks to the petting zoo king.

I accept your offerings.

-(FRANTICALLY) Ah!

This thing is attacking me!

-Get it off!

Get off!

[SLURPING]

-Oh, brain freeze.

-No, no Mrs. Vesuvius, lemurs shouldn't even

be in the petting zoo.

Frankly, I don't even know how they got there

in the first place, stupid computer.

-Mission accomplished, boys.

MORT: Hooray!

[RATTLING]

-No!

I do not want this kingdom!

Take me back to my petting kingdom.

I order you. (WHINING) Please.

-Aw, guys.

I'll sure miss our next door neighbourliness.

-Right, not going to be the same.

-Still, I can drop by anytime, go for a swim,

sing some show tunes.

-Oh, uh--

-Oh, yeah, yeah, great.

Just-- just call first.

-But I don't have a phone.

-Oh, neither do we.

Later!

[MUSIC PLAYING]

-Now that's a fine looking poop deck.

I mean, usually I trouble with my poop deck.

But this poop deck--

[LAUGHTER]

-Oh.

-Rico, pass me the final hull section.

-Uh. -(ANXIOUSLY) Come on, come on!

Last piece!

Let's cork this vessel.

-I got nothin'.

-Last piece missing.

[LOUD THUMP]

Weeks of work wasted.

[FRUSTRATED GRUNTING]

[LOUD THUMP]

-Skipper.

-Kowalski, cover the Private's ears.

I intend to use by angry words.

[MUMBLED ANGRY YELLING]

-Wow.

-(SADLY) I still heard.

-Yes, we can give you the manufacturer's address,

just not sure why you need it.

-Primate, this is a payback operation,

missing piece payback.

The less you know, the better.

-Phil insists there are no missing pieces.

Apparently, your model is the SS Fiskelukt.

-(ANGRILY) Denmark!

-Actually, Norway.

-You don't have a problem with the Norwegians,

do you, Skipper?

-No, I'm ambivalent towards those fjord loving

sons of Vikings.

-They did event the cheese slicer.

(SARCASTICALLY) Well, point for Norway.

-100 years ago the Fiskelukt sank in the New York bay

with a full catch of brine-preserved herring.

-A full catch of tender mouth watering herring?

-Fish.

-Your missing piece represents the breach

that sank the mighty vessel.

A solemn reminder of man's fragile--

-And you're still thinking about the herring, aren't you?

-An entire sunken fishing vessel.

-Ripe for undersea retrieval.

[BABBLING]

-Ripe, is indeed the word, Skipper.

After 100 years of ageing in brine,

that herring should taste somewhere between nectar

of the gods and slap your mama delicious!

[EXCITED BABBLING]

[CLANKING]

[BABBLING]

-Dial down the psycho, compadre.

There's a time and a place for that kind of madness.

-Really?

When is--

-18 minutes from now, in the lower New York Bay.

[BOAT HORN BLARING]

-Curse these Norwegian charts!

I mean who measures in metric beard lengths?

-Nothing on sonar, Skipper.

-Steady!

Just get us within five clicks of that wreck.

Rico's uncanny fish sense should kick in any--

[SNIFFING]

-Whoo!

[EXCITED BABBLING]

-Fish!

-Mr. Kowalski, hard to port!

Follow that beak!

RICO: Fish!

[SNIFFING]

[BABBLING]

[EXCITED BABBLING]

SKIPPER: There she lies.

Kowalski, herring savage options.

-Touchy operation, Skipper.

After a century of salt water that crate

could fall apart with the slightest jarring.

The key words here are slow, deliberate--

-Whoo!

-(PANICKING) Oh bad Rico!

Bad Rico!

SUBMARINE COMPUTER VOICE: Torpedo one.

SKIPPER: Sweet Chester Nibbits!

[EXCITED BABBLING]

-(DISAPPOINTINGLY) Oh man.

KOWALSKI: Steady, steady.

His fault.

-Wow!

[EXCITED BABBLING]

-Whoa, whoa, whoa, Rico.

This is what I'm talking about, soldier.

There's plenty of fish to go around as long as everyone

shows a little self discipline.

[CHOMPING]

-Skipper, you have got to try this herring.

-Don't mind if I do.

[LOUD CHEWING]

[DISSATISFIED GROANING]

[ANGRY BABBLING]

[ANGRY BABBLING]

-(HAPPILY) Ha-ha-ha!

What?

[GULP]

-(SWALLOWING) Mm, satisfying.

-See, Rico, plenty to go around.

Everybody good? You good?

You good? You good?

Great!

Outstanding.

[WHIMPERING]

-Gentleman, send your taste buds into retirement.

There will never be another flavour

extravaganza like that in our lifetime.

[LOUD CLANKING]

-That herring was so good it's making me crave even more fish.

[LAUGHING]

[HYSTERICAL LAUGHING] Seriously, though, good fish.

[ANGRILY MUTTERING]

-Still hungry, Rico?

I don't know how you could eat ordinary sardines

after all that delicious herring.

[LOUD BURP]

-Sardines?

Fish!

-Explain yourself, soldier.

Fish!

[INSANELY BABBLING]

Kowalski, analysis.

-Crazy eyes, babbling tongue--

-Fish!

-Uh-uh

-Egad!

I believe our Norwegian herring was a bit too aged.

-Never ever blame the fish, Kowalski!

-But don't you see?

Private's contracted bacterial Pisces dementia!

A rare brain disease that's turning him into a fish craving

psychopath!

-Hey!

That's my thing!

-Yeah, we don't need two of those.

Can it be cured?

-It should wear off in 24 hours as long

as he doesn't feed the disease.

That means no more fish of any kind.

If Private ingests so much as a single sardine,

he'll be like this forever.

-Fish!

Fish!

Fish!

Fish!

Fish!

SKIPPER: Stop that!

-Well, on the bright side, maybe this

will teach Private not to over indulge

in so much brined herring.

[CHUCKLING]

-Hey, didn't you eat as much as he did?

-Why, yes I dooby-dooby-did!

Fish!

-Looks like we're on psycho patrol, amigo.

No fish for these two for the next 24 hours.

-Uh, what about you?

-Luckily, my iron constitution seems

to have made me immune to this Pisces dementia.

[INSANE BABBLING]

-Seriously.

No effect.

iron-clad constitution.

[INSANE GROANING]

Fish!

[SCREAMING]

[INSANE BABBLING]

-Uh-uh-uh!

No fish!

ALICE: Feeding time!

ALL: Fish!

[INSANE BABBLING]

Eat up, you disgusting animals!

[GULPING]

ALL: Ah!

-Fish!

[GULPING]

-Since when do we get four Ricos?

-Wait, what?

How come did nobody tell me it was impersonation Tuesday?

I call I get to be Maurice!

[EXCITED LAUGHTER]

[CLEARS THROAT] (IMITATING MAURICE) Eh, hey, everybody.

Stop having fun because I am boring.

Heh.

And you should be boring too.

Heh-heh.

-I do not talk like that.

(ROBOTIC TONE) Yes, you do.

-Now that's just your robot voice.

-(ROBOTIC TONE) End transmission.

-And I'll be the King Julien, which means-- the feet!

-Hey!

Baren von Greedenstein!

Save some for the rest of the flock!

Gimme, gimme!

Mine, mine, mine!

[BABBLING]

-Ooh!

-Ooh, kabobs!

[PAINFUL CRYING]

[WHISTLING]

-Great!

All full then?

[INSANE BABBLING]

Whatever, freaks.

-Uh-uh.

No fish!

MAN: Yo, zookeeper lady, where you

want this truckload of fresh cod fillets?

-Aw, no!

ALL: Fish!

Fish!

[INSANE BABBLING]

-This ain't happening!

This ain't happening!

[CAR TIRES SCREACHING]

-Fish!

-Pull the car over!

-Ahh!

[POLICE SIREN BLARING]

Whoa!

-Ah, fish.

MAN: All right, people.

That tuna ain't gonna can itself.

[MACHINE BEEPING]

-Are you kidding me?

[INSANE BABBLING]

No!

(OPERA VOICE SINGING) Feeesh!

[HAPPILY LAUGHING]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you go ahead.

Suckers.

[CHOMPING]

[CHOMPING]

-Rico, why is my mouth crunchy?

[HAPPILY LAUGHING]

[CRASH]

[CAR ALARM BLARING]

And so, for conspicuous bravery in the face of uh,

himself uh, times three, I hereby award Rico

this ceremonial smoked Alaskan salmon.

-Ah, fish!

-I think we all learned something

today about unrestrained gluttony.

-Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie, mine, mine, mine!

[GOBBLING]

-It's Rico's thing.

[RICO BABBLING]

[MUSIC PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR THEME SONG]