Original subtitles

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

[THEME MUSIC]

-Hit it!

[PARTY MUSIC]

-Cute and cuddly, boys.

-Skipper's law, today, testing begins

on Kowalski's latest invention.

-Oh yeah.

-I am proud to introduce the next phase

of penguin combat, the next-O skeleton.

Good name, right?

I was up all night.

-Eh.

-Test one, missile launch.

-After months of intensive research and reengineering,

Kowalski's next-O skeleton is ready for its second field

test.

-Strength test, on my mark.

Mark!

-Yes, it works.

It totally-- ah.

-I, I think it's too-- c-c-cold for the c-camera.

-Ugh.

Third test of the--

-Oh, yeah.

-Ah.

-Huh?

-Ready for the test, Skipper?

-Hm?

Oh, yeah, right.

We'll, knock yourself out, Kowalski.

-Don't you want to record it for posterity?

-What?

Oh, no.

I'm good.

Keeping it all upstairs.

-Commencing test four.

Yes!

It's working!

It's working!

[LAUGHING]

Finally, after all this time, the next-O skeleton is-- ah.

-Oh, it's ghastly, harrowing.

Horrific!

-Nah, he's had worse.

Walk it off, Kowalski

-Aye, sir.

-No, not Kowalski.

That.

[LAUGHING]

-Who would do this?

I'm universally beloved.

That's my thing.

Who could possibly not like me?

-Oh, and them.

-Ah!

Um, pardon me, but why are you making unflattering pictures of

-Me?

You really think it's possible to make

a flattering picture of you?

When's the last time you looked in the mirror?

I mean, without breaking it?

-What?

-Am I being too subtle?

I'm saying you're ugly.

Stupid and ugly.

You're not the first to mix the two,

but you're the stupidest and ugliest.

-Oh-- what did I ever do to you?

-That Tuesday, last spring in the park.

You stepped on me!

-I did?

I don't remember that.

-Why am I not surprised?

Why would a power player like you worry about the little guy?

-Power-- I didn't mean-- it's just, are you sure it was me?

-How many penguins are there in Manhattan?

Yes, I'm sure it was you.

And ever since then, I've been racing to the zoo

to teach you a lesson.

-Racing?

-I'm a snail.

Do the maths, big foot.

Now, get ready for a beat down in midtown!

Eh, eh, could you take a step or two closer to me?

Uh, it'll really save time.

-You've got your first arch-enemy.

Great news!

What's his name?

-Dale.

He's a snail.

-Oh.

Well, it's a start.

It's not the size of the foe, but uh--

help me out here, Kowalski.

-Uh, perhaps you'll soon be the enemy of a tiger or a sharp.

-Oh, maybe even a tiger shark.

-Blah.

Blah!

-But I don't want to be anybody's arch enemy.

I'm nice.

There's got to be a way to set things right with Dale.

Perhaps if I bring him a thoughtful little gift.

-Oh, Private, you're doing it wrong.

You don't make peace with your arch.

Come on!

-Yeah, come-- ow.

-Dale, oh Dale.

I have some lovely, delicious lettuce for you.

Hm.

Maybe I should just wait here for him.

[CRUNCH]

-Ah!

-Oh dear.

-Is somebody popping popcorn?

I-- uh.

There, good as new-ish.

-Thank you, Marlene.

It's nice to know that not all zoo

animals are rage-opathic goons.

Yes Private, I was obliquely referring to you, goon.

-Oh please, it was an accident.

-Dale, I've known Private a long time.

He's a sweetie.

He wouldn't intentionally harm a fly.

-Well, I'm not a fly.

And he's done it twice!

-Twice?

Really?

Huh.

-Look, Dale, would it help if I said I'm sorry?

-No.

-Would it help if I said I'm very sorry?

-Oh, let me think.

No!

-Would it help if I said I'm very, very, very, very--

-Very, very-- no!

-How about this.

If I said I was sorry in front of all my friends

and everyone I know, would that satisfy you?

-Hm.

There might be something there.

-OK.

Dale, this is everyone.

-All right.

Get on with it.

And hey, anything you can do to you know,

make me look good for the ladies.

-You've got it, mate.

Listen everyone, I recently met someone, someone very handsome.

And I hurt him.

I accidentally, but badly.

So here's the message I want each and every one of you

to see here, and yes, feel.

Dale--

[CRUNCH]

-Ah!

-Oh dear.

[GASPS]

-Poor form, Private.

You grapple with an arch for years

before you outright humiliate him.

-Again, if there's any way I could make it up to you--

-Why not saute me in butter and garlic?

Get it over with?

-Private, don't get mad or anything.

But I think it's best if you leave.

-Yeah, escar-go!

-Oh.

-Ah!

-We don't want no trouble.

-Yeah.

No trouble, no trouble.

-Oh.

-Eh, excuse me.

Why is everyone thinking you are a scary monster?

-Because I accidentally stepped on a snail.

-So?

Accidents happen.

-Then I sat on him.

-Oh.

OK, well, sometimes they happen twice.

Sheesh.

-Then I stepped on him again.

-What is wrong with you?

You monster!

I don't even kick Morts three times.

You know, my feet get tired.

But you, man, you got the managing anger problem!

-It was all an accident, honest!

But nobody sees it that way.

-Ah.

This, I can help with.

As king, I know the ins, and downs, and ups,

and outs of the public images.

-Really?

You could help me?

-Just leave everything to me.

Soon, everybody, even this crushed snail,

are going to reel you.

-Ow, gentle.

-Oh, uh-- sorry.

Sorry Dale, sorry.

Hey, you guys have any bandages?

I'm all out.

-Help yourself, Marlene.

-Thanks.

-Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa, wait.

You're taking me down there into the layer of the beast?

-You're safe.

The beast is out moping.

-Oh, OK then.

-Exposing our lair to Private's arch-enemy?

Is that a good idea, Skipper?

-Private's arch is a snail.

Aha.

-Yeah, good point.

-I know, it's cute.

-OK, give me a minute.

They're down here somewhere.

-Hm, hello.

-Whoa.

-Kowalski, id your next-O skeleton testing itself?

-No.

It wasn't scheduled to become self aware for another week.

-Ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome

to the monarch with the most, the king of cool,

the sovereign of soul, King Julien.

[WEAK APPLAUSE]

-Thank you Maurice for that lovely but unnecessary

introduction, because everyone already knows and loves me.

Now, as much as you would all like me to talk about me,

I would like to talk about the certain special someone who

is not me.

There seems to be some misconeptions about Private.

He, he's not a mean guy.

He's not a crazy guy.

He's not a guy who eats the small, woodland creatures.

The truth is, he is the meanest, craziest guy who

eats the large woodland creatures!

-What?

-Just look at the way he treats the harmless little slime guys.

What do you think he will do to you?

It won't be pretty, I'll tell you that.

-Whoa.

-You see?

There's no telling what this psycho nut will do.

-He's lose!

Run for your lives.

Ah!

-Please, no!

Listen to me, I beg you.

I'm not a bad guy!

It's all been one horrible misunderstanding.

-I was going to say something clever here.

But really, that's not who I am.

All I want to do is smush you.

-Ah!

-At ease, soldier.

Your backup is here.

-Look!

The next-O skeleton, it's working!

It's w--

-Sorry.

I was aiming for jerky stompy feet.

Still getting the hang of this.

-Ah!

-One mistake, little Dale.

We are like the Three Musketeers,

except there are four of us.

And we're birds, and in no way French.

But the same team mentality applies.

-Couldn't care less.

-Ah!

-Rico, increase his sodium intake.

-Blah.

-Back off, gastropod.

I've got a salt shaker, and I'm not afraid to-- oh.

-Oh dear, oh dear.

Ah!

-Look, I know it's obvious.

But I want to underline the poetic justice here anyway.

I'm going to step on you just like you stepped on me

wearing your very own robo clothes.

-Ah!

I suppose that's fair after how I've wronged you so.

But just so you know, that's not my suit.

-It's not?

-No, it's Kowalski's.

-Wait a second, aren't you the science guy penguin?

-No, I'm the adorable, nice guy with a heart of gold penguin.

-So who stepped on me last spring?

-I am proud to introduce the next phase

of penguin combat, the Nexto Skeleton.

[LAUGHING]

How about that?

-You see?

This whole thing's just been one big misunderstanding.

-I don't know what to say Private.

-Just say we'll be friends, and we'll forget all about it.

-I'll do more than that.

I'll set the record straight.

I'll tell everyone that you really are a stand up guy.

-Thanks Dale.

-Just as soon as I stop this Kowalski jerk into the ground!

Dance penguin, dance!

-Ah!

Help me!

-Ow!

Maurice!

Mort!

Come quickly!

This crickey tickey drone has preciously

attacked my magnificent royal booty with this stabbiness.

-It's just a splinter.

-A teeny, tiny, teeny splinter.

-It is attempted booty-cide.

Spread the word.

Your king is needing a brand new throne.

-Whoa!

-Ah!

-678,433, 678,434, and 678,435 grains

of salt in the mess hall salt shaker.

-Kowalski, make a note of that for inventory.

How's that pepper count coming?

-Ah, ah, achoo!

-You done?

-Um, uh-huh.

Wah-choo!

[ALARM]

-Kowalski, that can't be what I think is, can it?

-I'm afraid so, Skipper.

-It's S-T-A-N-K, STANK!

-After all these years, I try so hard to forget.

-Right.

So what's a stank?

-Project super toxic aromatically noxious

kaboomboom.

It was, it was a horrible--

-Acronym?

-A stink bomb, Private.

-The acronym's not very good either.

-But not just any stink bomb, the grand mama

stink bomb to end all stink bombs.

It was designed to lock onto a target

and hold it there until the odour core detonated.

-Private, putrid perfume of project STANK

is a bazillion times worse than anything you've ever smelled.

-Bazillion isn't a real number, Skipper.

-Is too.

The International Numbers Council just declared it.

-And that is not a real council.

-Huh, is too!

The International Council's Council just declared it.

Just now.

-So who was STANK supposed to lure into its foul seat?

-Dr. Blow Hole.

-And that's where the whole project went wrong.

Turns out dolphins don't use toilets.

-Nope.

-Not when they've got the seven seas to soil.

-Oh, really?

-Oh yeah.

All the sea creatures do it-- fish,

whales, lobsters, octopuses.

-Oh.

I'm never swimming in the ocean again.

-Anyhoo, STANK was a bust.

Total waste of a perfectly good toilet.

[ALARM]

-Uh-oh.

Kowalski, is this thing still active?

-Apparently.

But we should be safe, as long as we

don't disturb its fragile core.

-Whew!

[ALARM]

-By doing things breathing.

-Then we've got to get this STANK out of here, ASAP.

-But where do we take it Skipper?

-Somewhere uncivilised, uninhabitable.

A wasteland of inhuman misery.

-Garden State Parkway rest stop?

-Right-o.

They'll never notice the difference.

-Ah.

-Gently, Rico.

The tiniest movement could initiate the detonation timer.

We have to be very, very, very, very careful.

-Yeah, yeah.

Uh, uh, ah.

[ALARM]

-Ah.

[ALARM]

-Oopsie.

-No, no, no.

My new royal throne must be something

that really wows my breath away.

I'm looking for something big, something shiny.

[HORN]

-Ah!

Something with cool, blinking lights

along the side like that!

My throne!

Where are they taking my new royal throne?

-We got ourselves a convoy.

This is big box shaker and the wiggle waggon

sending out a 10-32 to puking boots.

You got your ears on, good buddy?

-Uh--

SKIPPER (ON RADIO): Just reminding

you to keep your flaps down, use the jake.

Back off the hammer.

-Say what?

-It's a little trucker lingo, Rico, telling you to go slow.

-Oh, gotcha.

-Thank you, cranium.

How's it back on the skateboard?

You throwing some rope on that fat load?

-I beg your pardon?

-Ugh, trucker lingo.

You secure the STANK?

-Oh, yes.

Uh, if we keep the speed down and stay on flat terrain,

this will definitely probably maybe work.

-10-4, good buddy.

Simpering Soft Foot You my bear in the air?

PRIVATE (ON RADIO): Sorry, am I Simpering Soft Foot?

-Aw, come on!

Nobody speaks big rig? PRIVATE (ON RADIO): Sorry.

KOWALSKI (ON RADIO): I find it impenetrable.

-Ugh.

Fine.

Private, where are you?

-I'm coming up on your position now, Skipper.

There's night traffic on the bridges and toll roads.

Oh, and there's a yellow cab pulling up next to you.

-It's Manhattan, Private.

Yellow cabs are like cowboys in a rodeo.

They're everywhere.

-Yee-haw!

-Ugh.

-Ah.

-Ugh.

-Ringtail, no!

[HORN]

-Ah!

-Rico, stay with it.

Ringtial, I know you can hear me.

And even though it's never worked before,

I'm going to try and reason with you.

-Ha!

Good luck with that.

-Stop that truck.

You have no idea what noxious habit that cargo is capable of.

-Ah, but I do.

This cargo is capable of becoming

my most awesome new royal throne!

-Private, I need a lift.

PRIVATE: On my way Skipper.

[ALARM]

-Hiya!

-Ah.

-You are too late!

I hereby claim this super boss blinky throne.

-No!

-No!

Ah.

Booty-ful.

See?

My booty was destined for this throne.

Even the throne knows it.

-What exactly is King Julien sitting on?

-And can't get up from.

Uh!

-Ringtail, let us deal with this situation.

-Yes, deal with it.

-It's impossible to stop.

The core is going full meltdown.

-[GULPS]

-Just get the king up and off of that thing.

-Well, I'd have to short out the locking circuit

without triggering this smellatonium.

-Private, air lift Kowalski and Maurice back to HQ.

You two find a way to get ringtail off the STANK.

Rest of us will press on and hope fate

smiles on the foolish.

-Then I will be the most foolish of all.

-No!

I'm so doomed.

-Crying never solved anything, so stop with the tears.

-You're not the one with the doomsday STANK bomb

strapped to your booty!

-Can I drive?

-No!

-Can I drive now?

-Uh-uh.

-How about now?

-No!

Uh--

-I try!

-Ah--

-Ah--

-Oh, OK.

That's enough driving for me.

Your turn.

[ALARM]

-We got lucky, ringtail.

Real lucky.

[TRAIN]

-Ah!

-These locking mechanisms are identical to the one strapped

onto King Julien's posterior regions.

-So if we can find the right liquid solution to short

out the circuit, we can free him.

-Well, let's get started.

-Ah!

-Oh, boy.

[TRAIN]

[CRYING]

-Why?

-Good work, Rico.

Look ringtail, sweet, sweet Jersey.

Now, we just need some answers from the geniuses in the lab.

-It's not going to work--

-OK.

How are we supposed-- hey!

-This is kind of awkward, isn't it?

[ALARM]

-Hey, look.

It worked!

-What worked?

I'm using the same solution, and nothing is happening.

-Kowalski, tell me you've got good news.

-Well, something must have been different.

Because I'm standing over here, and you're standing over there.

-What could possibly be different?

Unless it's 678,435 grains of recently spilled salt.

Skipper, the answer is sodium chloride!

SKIPPER (ON RADIO): Hey, know how you don't speak trucker?

Well, I don't speak nerdese.

-Salt.

You need common table salt to short out the lock, good buddy.

-Kowalski, we're in a city dump, not restaurant row.

-Salt water would work, but they'd

never get to the shore in time.

Oh, wait.

Saline!

Do either of you wear contact lenses?

-I got it!

Tears are salty.

Cry onto the lock.

Cry like you're going to die, because if you don't, you

might.

-You heard him, ringtail.

Make with the water works.

-What?

Oh, OK.

Yeah, I'll try.

-You'll try?

You've been crying nonstop for the last hour.

Now, come on.

Squeeze out a couple of tears.

[ALARM]

-Let me give it a-- ah-- e-- eh-- I can't do it!

I can't just fake it.

It needs to be real, from the inside.

-Well, uh, think of sentimental things- good times you had

with, uh, dear friends.

-Puh, what friends?

To you?

-Yes.

OK, sure.

If that works for you, think of us, uh, together.

My god, they're stock short pants.

I can't believe how much time I've wasted with you.

-Aha!

I am free!

I am free from my throne of STANK!

-We'll never clear the stanturaneous in time.

PRIVATE: Oh, yes we will.

[ALARM]

-My calculations show that STANK might actually

improve the air quality over New Jersey.

-Huh.

I am just glad you broke down and cried girly tears

at the thought of never seeing me again.

-Now, hold on a minute, ringtail.

It was one very small, very manly tear.

-Big, blubbery baby.

Woo-hoo.

-Uh.