Penguins of Madagascar Page #4

Dave is a master of disguise.

He could be a small child,

a house plant, maybe even you or me!

- Is it you, Kowalski?

- Hey, hold on.

Wait a minute.

Bingo! Nice try, Dave!

Operation Flash, Splash and Crash is a go!

- Splendid!

- Take positions.

Penguin feeding time

will begin in two minutes.

Target, 30 yards and closing.

In position, Skipper.

- Rico, report.

- In position.

- For you, Private.

- Yes, Skipper!

- Here's your mermaid costume.

- What?

We need a diversion. And, frankly,

you're the only one who can pull off that look.

But I can do more, Skipper.

I want to help the team.

Really help the team.

If you think I'm ready, which I am.

Assuming you agree.

And perhaps even... if you don't?

I like the moxie, soldier, but right now,

I need a tail on that tush

and the cutest smile you've got.

You trust me, soldier?

Aye, aye, Skipper.

Hey, it's feeding time!

Target, ten yards from flashpoint.

Private, you're up.

You just mermaid my day.

Flash is a go!

Look, they let one of the mermaids

out of the tank!

- Oh, she's so cute.

- It's the cutest thing I've ever seen.

Shields up!

Target is stunned.

Rico, bring the Splash.

Yeah!

Oh, what are you doing out here, cutie?

Come on. Back in your tank.

Secure the mermaids and find me...

David the octopus.

A little late, North Wind.

Mission accomplished. High one!

Corporal, take our prisoner...

the one that belongs to us... into custody.

- What?

- You melted him?! You birds are sick!

He's going in through the pipes!

Skipper!

Private? Private!

You got to get out of there!

- No, no, no. No, no, no, no. Private!

- Skipper!

Private!

- Help!

- No!

Okay. Here we go.

Move, move, move!

He's got Private! He's getting away.

He's getting away!

- Skipper, the North Wind's plane.

- Sweet chariot of the gods!

- But can you fly it, man?

- There's only one way to find out.

No, I... still can't read.

Then we're going off-book.

No! No, no, no, no!

Too much, too much, too much,

too much, too much!

- I'm getting the hang of this, Skipper.

- Pull off!

Good! We're coming for you, Private!

Those ludicrous butterballs

are letting David escape!

Eva, secure transport.

Short Fuse, Corporal, hitch us a ride.

Fire!

Go fetch.

Hold her steady.

Sir, Dave is pulling ahead.

We are too heavy.

Oh, curse our heavily cheese-dibbled diet!

Rico, give me a West Helsinki fire sale.

- Yeah, yeah.

- Everything must go!

What the...

- That's everything, sir.

- Have you purged the chemical toilet?

- But Rico was in there for 15 minutes!

- Just do it!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

- Self-destruct sequence in five,

- No, Private!

- four, three, two...

- Stay strong soldier!

...one.

Skipper's log.

Private has been kidnapped by Dave,

while we have been cast adrift

for what seems like days.

No rations, fresh water...

or land in sight.

Kowalski is sick as a dog.

And Rico keeps trying to eat him.

Just, please, just cut it out.

Not sure how long we can hold on.

This may be my final entry.

2004 Grand Cru.

Hints of pear, white peaches.

- The salmon is delicious.

- Oh, I have never been...

- ...more hydrated in my life.

- Let me cut you a piece of the salmon.

- No, thank you. I'm stuffed.

- It's the most delicious thing on the boat.

- I have to loosen my utility belt.

- No, I'm full. Just dump it in the ocean.

You know, we're all

in the same boat here.

Actually, we're not. And perhaps

you could express a little more concern

over the fact that you stole

and destroyed a $19 million vehicle!

Bill me.

- Corporal? Corporal?

- We're picking up a signal, sir.

It's five klicks southwest,

but it stopped at that remote island.

Land?

Good on you.

You've tracked down some land.

No, silly willy. We've been tracking

your little secretary/mascot.

What? You put

a homing device on Private?

All of you, actually, when I darted you.

You low-down,

dirty, mangy, filthy,

flea-bitten, bum-sniffing

toilet drinker!

But... good.

See, I told you.

You should've left this

to the professionals.

893. 894.

Ahoy there!

Penguins.

I bet you're all just dying to know

why I brought you here.

- He's gonna kill us all!

- What? No.

My Medusa Serum doesn't kill anyone.

- Where's the fun in that?

- So, what does it do?

Something much, much worse.

Right. But, like, what specifically?

Well, that's exactly

what I came up here to show you.

All I need is a test subject.

Hello, little buggy-boo!

Is this about the chirping?

'Cause I could... Whoa!

Whoa!

Behold, as I unleash the full power

of the Medusa Serum.

Fire!

Yes! It works!

I made a monster. I made a monster!

And all you adorable penguins are next!

Crikey!

Who said that?

No.

No. No.

Yes!

Gentlemen, you remember Private.

Oh, hey.

You'll never get away with this, Dave.

My brothers are coming,

and together we'll take a wrecking ball

to your whole rotten operation.

Call off the hunt, everyone.

Turns out the elite unit

will be coming to us.

Boop.

Eva?

What do you see?

My count is 30 hostiles.

Those two are very close together.

I mean, you know, intertwined,

physically, but... but not in...

Ixnay on the irtflay, Kowalski.

Poor Private. Alone,

helpless in the belly of that beast.

We've faced some

long odds before, Skipper,

but these look like

the longest and oddest.

If we're gonna pull this off,

we'll need a diversion.

Deactivating jungle camouflage.

- Would you be quiet?

- Listen, Classified...

Short Fuse, you were supposed

to handcuff them to the rock!

- Don't you hologram me!

- I tried, but they don't have hands.

They just have flippers, boss. And I

have flippers! So it's flipping useless!

All right, pooch.

If you won't work with us,

you better work for us.

Our plan requires a diversion.

I give the orders around here.

Much as it pains me,

I need you to act as our diversion

for our operation, understood?

Nope! This is our plan,

and it requires you to cause a diversion.

- Die-version.

- Dih-version.

- Die, die, die, die, die, die!

- Dih, dih, dih, dih, dih, dih!

Gentlemen, there is only

one way to resolve this.

- We should kiss.

- Plan-off.

Yep, plan-off.

That's what I was gonna say.

Plan-off.

Here's Dave's sub.

And this young, helpless,

vulnerable rock is Private.

And here's Dave.

While you four blowhards

"dih-vert" the octopi,

we strike fast and strike hard!

Hi-yah! Get on in here, boys!

Slap him silly, Rico! Come on!

Kowalski, free the hostages!

Now, that's what I'm talking about,

big fella!

With Private freshly liberated,

we celebrate with a well-earned high one,

and feast off Dave's sweet remains.

Any questions?

Whoa-hoa, hey, now!

Wow. I mean, truly impressive.

Especially the bit

where you slap the fruit.

Oh! Corporal, dim the lights.

Short Fuse, glasses.

My apologies. Had to rush a bit.

The schematic's a little crude.

- Where is that music coming from?

- Wow.

All right, at 2150, Skipper,

Kowalski and... Richard, was it?

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