Original subtitles

[MUSIC PLAYING]

-Hit it.

-Cute and cuddly, boys.

SKIPPER: The Big Apple.

Glittering jewel of civilisation,

but it's rife with crime and chaos.

-Hey!

-Fortunately, for the good denizens of NYC,

four penguins draw the line in the sand, the grass,

and/or McAdam.

Evil, you are on notice.

-Hey.

-No calamity too small.

No injustice too insignificant.

-Ah!

-Nothing escapes our watchful gaze.

-Skipper, I think I've got some thing.

Kite in a tree.

-Oh no.

-No time to lose.

Paper skydancer down.

Paper skydancer down.

-On it, Skipper!

BOY: Hey!

My kite came loose.

Nice.

-You are quite welcome, my fine young ma-- Ah!

[CRASHING THUD]

-Not to worry, Skipper.

He's going to be just fine.

-I know.

I just feel bad for the little guy.

He's been taking hits for the team left and right.

-Ah!

Oh!

Ah!

Paper cut.

[MUFFLED SCREAMING]

-It has been a tough afternoon.

I'd like to reward the boy, But how?

-Well, it should be something special.

-Mmm.

TV ANNOUNCER: Come see "Lunacorns on Ice."

SKIPPER: Rico, 86 that noise.

We're trying to come up with something that

would thrill and delight the Private.

TV ANNOUNCER: Guaranteed to thrill and del--

-What's something Private would absolutely love?

[PHONE BUZZES]

-Pfft.

Spam.

Delete.

-Feels like we know it if we saw it.

-Hey.

[MUMBLING] These?

-Oh, hello.

Um, so why's everyone looking at me funny?

-We are positively reinforcing you.

-Right.

Will it hurt?

-Will it hurt?

Don't you just love his childlike naivete?

-Comes naturally, I suppose.

-Look at him!

So humble, so Englishly modest.

That's why we're--

-Taking me to "Lunacorns on Ice!"

Haha!

-Uh.

Yes.

Private, we're taking you to "Lunacorns on Ice."

-That was indeed the plan all along.

-[MUMBLING]

-Do you suppose it'd be all right

if I invited my fellow Lunacorn fans to come along?

-Fellow Lunacorn fans?

-Imaginary, no doubt.

-Right.

The lad's a frequent flier on flights of fancy.

Well, sure, Private.

Bring all the fans you want.

The more the merrier.

These are your fellow Lunacorn fans?

-I appreciate the positive portrayal

of horned animals in the media.

-And I learned all my refined etiquette from them.

-Oh!

So what are we waiting for?

-Um, Kowalski, Rico, sidebar.

Options?

-Getting these large mammals to the show

will be next to impossible.

I recommend we scrub the mission.

-And disappoint the Private?

Negative.

-But Skipper!

-Negative!

His dashed hopes would plant a dark seed of bitterness

in Private's pure heart and that baby seed

will grow into a tree of hate with leaves of cynicism

and jaded roots and bitter hipster berries.

-I wear glasses even though I don't

need 'em because I'm ironic.

-I can't do it.

I can't destroy innocence!

So some way, somehow, this mission is a go.

ROY: [CLEARS THROAT]

-Oh, right.

-All right, Roy, your turn.

-Give it all you got, men.

On 3.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3.

-You guys coming or what?

-Rico.

-Ooh.

Effective and patriotic.

Move.

Eh.

Oh.

Hurry!

No!

No, no, no!

Ah!

-Uh, Skipper, are you sure you're all right?

-It was more about the humiliation

than the pain, Kowalski.

-Skipper, I can hold my beak no longer.

This mission is a disaster.

A catastrophe.

We should cut our losses and go home now

before we sink even deeper into this quagmire.

-It's OK, Skipper.

I can learn to live to with my soul crushed.

-Sardine Private?

-Why bother?

Oh.

-Kowalski, what's with all the negative Nellie nattering?

This isn't a catastrophe.

This is a catastro-tunity.

-A catastro-tunity?

-Catastro-tunity.

Beautiful word.

-Catastro-tunity.

-Catastro-tunity.

-You just make that up, didn't you?

-Cat-- ast-- ro-- toon-- ity!

-Oh, a catastro-tunity.

Yes, I've heard that word before.

Many times.

-So how are we going to get these two

wide-bodied behemoths into that arena?

-Well, I suppose I could whip together a matter transporter.

-Promising.

Down side?

-We might materialise three miles

below the surface of the earth.

-Let's put that in the Plan B slot?

Come on!

I need ideas.

-You guys.

Hey. What are you doing out here?

The show starts any minute.

-Catastro-tunity.

Oh.

-Let's call that Plan A.

-Oh dear.

-OK, Private.

Let's go see a show.

-Yay!

ANNOUNCER: Hey kids and caregivers.

It's Lunacorn time!

(SINGING) Know them from their TV show.

The line of toys that always glow.

And don't forget the DVDs.

Party plates and toddler tees.

But now for something extra nice like

Lunacorns who dance on ice.

So come one, come all, let's celebrate.

Celebrate.

Let's put those cellphones on vibrate.

It's time to watch our heroes skate.

It's Lunacorns.

Lunacorns.

Lunacorns on Ice.

ANNOUNCER: Let's give a big New York City welcome to Princess

Self-respectra, Prince Shares-a-lot,

and Queen Please-and-thank-you.

-Come on, that's your cue.

ANNOUNCER: And a couple of other friends.

-Oh, Roy and Bing get to meet the Lunacorns.

Lucky!

-Our apologises, your royal worship, and whatnot.

-Big fan.

Total misunderstanding here.

We're going.

Big fan.

-Shall we do the happy-hoppy friendship dance,

Prince Shares-a-lot?

-Gosh, should we?

-Whoa.

You're gonna make me dizzy here.

-We're just going to leave now.

Big fan.

Big fan!

-Hey.

-What are you clowns doing?

You're ruining the show.

-Hey.

If Prince Shares-a-lot eats you, you stay down.

Capisce.

Some guys, am I right, Prince?

-What is this?

Those amateurs are ruining my show!

Get them off my ice now!

-Looks like a kerfuffle.

Keep the Private blissfully ignorant.

-Where are they going?

-To get popcorn.

-Oh, smashing.

-And take out some security goons with extreme prejudice.

-What?

-To get popcorn.

Oh, look!

Triple Salchow.

Wow.

-Yay!

-Sorry.

Big fan.

[PUNCHING NOISES]

-Oh.

-Stop it!

-What makes you think I can?

-Why are those hacks still on my ice?

VOICE: Because people like the hacks.

-What?

VOICE: Listen to the guffaws.

They are a sensation.

-Hi-yah!

-Oh!

-Haha.

The monkey's funny.

-You're right.

This, this is a smash.

Listen to me.

Do not take those two off the ice.

Do not take them off the ice.

-Well, there you guys are.

Where've you been?

You're missing a rollicking good show.

-Well, we were, uh, punching ourselves.

Eating our flippers.

Eating.

Getting food.

We were getting, um, popcorn.

Popcorn!

-Ah!

-We were getting popcorn.

-Oh.

Tasty.

-Hey!

-Sorry.

Huge fan.

Did I mention that?

-Yay!

-Hee!

Giddy-up!

-Oh!

My spine!

-All right, Private.

It's getting late.

It's time we flew this coop.

-Aye, Skipper.

And thank you.

It was marvellous.

-Papa Bird to Bird Brain.

Bring down the curtain.

-Roger that, Papa Bird.

RICO: Wahoo!

-Rico, floor it.

Can the subtlety.

Big boys, stampede us home.

-You got it, buddy boy.

-Thank you, Skipper.

Tonight was everything I could have hoped for and more.

-So, no disappointment?

-Gosh, no.

Oh, I wanted to be able on a Lunacorn show too.

ROY: I can't stop falling down.

BING: Me too.

-Oh, there should be a penguin in there.

How disappointing.

-A cartoon detailing the exploits of penguins?

Private, that would be more awesomeness than the TV

viewing sofa spuds could handle.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

-La-da-dee.

A tumbleweed?

In New York?

Ah!

Got you road shrubbery.

Why are you following me?

-Haha!

Spooked ya, didn't I?

-The Amarillo Kid.

-That's right, Mr. Tux.

I'm back and this time I've come to ask for your help.

-No.

Wait a minute. did you say help?

-Oh, sorry.

I ain't used to being nice.

Please!

You're my only friend and everything.

SKIPPER: Haha.

No.

You're not our friend.

You're our enemy.

Show him Kowalski.

-Penguin Enemy File 308.

The Amarillo Kid forced Private into a mini-golf death match,

tried to self-destruct our HQ, and single-handedly

caused the great Peanut Butter Winky Famine of 1812.

I'm just guessing with that one.

-But I've changed.

Y'all taught me a lesson in humility and such.

And if you don't help me, they're going to take my shell.

-Who is?

-The g-- the g-- the gophers.

[LAUGHING]

Two of the meanest, lousiest two-timers, whatever partook

of the good game and mini-golf, that's them up there.

-Um.

-I bet them my shell and lost.

Now they're going to take it off my back,

use it for a guacamole bowl and such.

Please, y'all are the good guys.

Aren't the good guys supposed to help

no matter who it is and everything?

-Oh.

[SCREAMS]

-What a nut.

Now, on the upside, this means we

can throw a vanquished villain party.

308, over and out.

-Party!

-Private's guest of honor.

-But Skipper, the Amarillo Kid didn't

do anything wrong this time.

-Private, he's your enemy.

Now you don't see me helping Hans or Buck Rockgut helping

the Red Squirrel or Kowalski helping Doris the Dolphin.

-Doris isn't my enemy.

-Isn't she, Kowalski?

Think about it.

-Oh, Doris!

-Soldier, I know your big, soft heart is confused.

But sometimes the best way to help someone

is to bake a delicious cake celebrating

their tragic defeat.

Maybe something in a cod glaze, hm?

-Ow.

-Amarillo Kid?

-Private, I knew you'd come to save me.

Where are the tougher penguins?

-It's just you and me, Kid.

Skipper says we don't help our enemies,

but I know what's right.

Wait, what are you doing?

-Camouflaging my presence.

Them gophers could be anywhere.

Looky here.

-A rusty old putter?

-Not just any putter.

The Westchester Putter.

Forged deep in the fires of Mount Bogeyhaha.

Legend says any player who wields it will be unbeatable.

[CAR ALARMS]

What was that?

All we got to do is grab it from this here country club

and I can use it to beat the gophers.

-I can't help you take something that doesn't belong to you.

-Did I say grab?

I meant, uh, borrow and such.

-Well, as long as we put it back after.

-Yeehaw!

With you on my side, we'll have this mission hog-tied

faster than a pig in a yarn barn.

Haha. What's that?

Pig in a yarn barn?

-Look out!

-Ow, careful.

We don't want to break anything.

Especially me.

-The Westchester Putter.

-What?

No security case?

This will be easy.

We can just grab--

-I'll get it.

-Ahh!

-Sorry.

Got a little over fired up there.

-There.

When that fan turns on, it will coil the rope

and lift the chandelier right off the putter.

Oh, Kowalski would be so-- No, not yet!

Whoa!

Oh, you're not very good at this, are you?

-Depends on the meaning of good.

[SIRENS BLARING]

-You guys get the shuttle, I'll get the car.

-Intruder alert.

There's a breach on the zoo's perimeter.

Move, move, move!

-Well, what do we have here?

A pair of shell snatching gophers

out for a little underground B&E?

-Whoa, easy, Mr. Birdman.

You have got it all wrong.

-You got it all not right.

-I am Gomer.

This is my brother, Bo.

-Pleasure's all yours.

-We are looking for the Amarillo Kid.

Yes, it is true.

But we did not come for his shell.

We came to warn you.

Oh yeah.

That armadillo tricked us up something fierce.

He made us bet all our valuables on crazy golf games

and then whooped us.

We lost everything to him.

[HUMMING]

Even our tiny violin.

-Aww.

-So the story he told us was a lie?

[HUMMING]

-Ha!

I knew it!

Good thing you didn't fall for it, right, Private?

Private?

Private?

Private's not here, is he?

-Oh, this is not turning out like I planned.

-No, it's hopeless.

We ain't never getting that putter.

-No, there's a solution for every problem.

Let's just think.

You know, if Rico was here, he'd probably just blow it all up.

But it's not like we have any dynamite or landmines.

[FLAME LIGHTING]

-Got a canon.

-Of course you did.

[LOUD BLAST]

-It's the Westchester!

-The blast freed it.

-We did it, Tux!

-Now you can re-match those gophers

then give the putter right back.

-Yeah.

Yeah.

Give it back and everything.

-You really have changed, turning over a new leaf.

Not tricking people anymore.

-Trick?

I don't-- uh.

I can't.

-Yes, truth and honesty.

That's your game now.

-I, I, I can't take it anymore!

Private, I've done wronged you.

-What?

-I'm not borrowing this here putter.

I'm stea-- I'm steal-- I'm stealing it.

Oh, there I said it.

-Oh!

-For the gophers.

They said I could keep my shell if I snatched it for them.

I couldn't do it alone, so I, I horn-swaggled you.

I feel kind of bad.

-Then Skipper was right.

I shouldn't have helped my enemy.

-But you know, I'd rather go shell-less

if it means proving you were right.

-Really?

-Sure.

Bring on them gophers.

I'll putter-whup 'em myself.

-My, my, my look who's putting with the enemy.

-Gah!

Gophers!

-Skipper, how'd you find us?

-Easy, we just followed Insubordination Road

and hung a left at Gullible Way.

-Also, you left a trail.

-Seriously, add some sneak away drills

to your training regiment.

-But Skipper, the gophers!

-Are the victims.

Open your eyes man.

You were tricked.

As were we, apparently.

-Ha.

Ha.

I love these penguins.

They will believe anything.

-They're not smart like us at all.

-Gopher, what gives?

-Skipper, if I may.

I believe the gophers plan was to have the Amarillo Kid

recruit Private to penetrate this establishment's

security net and steal the-- uh.

What's it called?

-The Westchester Putter.

-From Mount Bogeyhaha.

-Right.

The gophers also speculated that prolonged exposure to Private

might improve the Kid's questionable moral character so

that he just might not steal the Westchester Putter.

AMARILLO KID: From Mount Bogeyhaha.

-So they've played on your sympathies to lead them

to Private and the Kid so they could

then steal the Westchester Putter--

AMARILLO KID: From Mount Bogeyhaha.

-Yes!

We got that!

For themselves.

All right, I'm done.

-Kowalski, that is the most cockamamie, convoluted plan

I've ever heard.

There is no way I helped thieves.

-Nailed it.

-Arrivederci, Snowbirds.

And thank you for all your help.

-Well, this is awkward.

-It's OK, Skipper.

We all make mistakes.

-Yeah, but you guys make them all the time.

It's new for me.

-You're free.

-Ha!

Let's bag some gophers.

-We got birdies on us.

-Incoming!

-Rico, putter me.

-OK.

-Atta, soldier.

Kowalski, punch it.

-Oh!

[GASPING]

[SCREAMING]

[LAUGHING]

-We got 'em!

Haha!

-I don't have them.

-I'm giving her all she's got.

She can't take much more, Skipper.

-Later losers!

-No!

-Oh!

Oh!

-Put, put, putter-whupped ya!

-Leave 'em hanging, boys.

Let the sprinklers clean 'em up.

-Ain't nothing but a rusty old putter any old ways.

-Yeah.

Let's go.

-Thank you, Mr. Tux.

I'm as appreciative as a horsefly in a pigsty.

You know I am.

And now I'm heading off into the sunset.

But rest assured, I've turned over them new leaves

and what-you-ma-call-its and I'll be

as honest as an aid from now on.

-Mmm.

The putter?

-Oh, right.

-Almost forgot.

[MUSIC PLAYING]