[bell tolls]
[brassy detective music]
- Hit it. - ♪ Hey-oh, yah, hah ♪
- ♪ oh, hey-oh ♪ - Yeah.
- ♪ Hey-oh ♪ - ♪ Yeah, oh-hey-oh ♪
[brassy detective music]
[camera shutter clicks]
Cute and cuddly, boys.
Feed the penguins. Two bucks.
[sighs] Animals.
- Now, Skipper? - Not yet, Private.
You got to play hard to get,
make 'em beg for it.
- Over here. - Hey, penguins.
- Over here. - Entertain me.
I'm beginning to sense restless hostility
- from the crowd. - We're going to lose them.
Okay, commence adorable high jinks.
Go. Go. Go.
Executing waddle with odd
but somehow strangely endearing body shakes.
- [grunting] - Aw.
Pretending to lose my balance
and face-plant into the pool now.
Aw.
I call belly slide duty.
Let's make it extra cute and cuddly today, boys.
Aw.
[cheering]
[laughs]
And yeah. Perfect.
Look how beautitious you are.
Oh, and this apple here is looking pretty good too.
Mm. Mm. No.
[cheers and applause]
[spits] Not feeding the penguins time.
How am I supposed to enjoy my breakfast
with all of the savage, fishy-smelling fishes
assaulting my kingly senses?
Maurice?
The royal nose clamp.
- [cooing] - There.
That should do the trick.
Aw.
Kowalski, irresistibility reading.
The crowd's appetite for our enamoring antics
is reaching optimal levels.
Beautiful. Hit them with the tail wags.
No mercy.
Aw!
And cease tail wagging.
Always leave them wanting more.
[cheering]
We did it.
Fish are incoming.
Three, two--
Wake up your taste buds, boys.
What are these?
So how's the catch of the day, gentlemen?
Looks fishy, Skipper.
Fish are supposed to look fishy.
No, I think he means "fishy."
Good fishy or bad fishy?
Definitely bad fishy, sir.
[sniffing]
That's strange.
There's no fish stank. Nothing.
[sniffing]
You are right.
The fishy-smelling fish fumes are no more.
We shall wildly celebrate,
and I am talking about more than usual,
you know what I mean?
But if it's not fish, what is it?
It appears to be
some kind of molecular soy composite, Skipper.
We're supposed to eat this chow?
[grunting]
Oh.
We're penguins, man. We need fish, real fish.
Technically, these cakes do meet
our nutritional requirements.
[sniffing]
Okay, boys, let's give it a shot.
Ding!
Boing!
[gagging]
Maybe it's more of an acquired taste, Skipper.
Right. We go again--
[gagging]
And again. [gagging]
Abort. Abort.
[moaning]
This has got to be some sort of freak experiment,
a one-time thing, right?
[retching]
We're charming.
We're lovable.
Aw.
We're hungry... for real fish.
[gagging]
Ah, three days, and I am loving this life, baby.
No fishy fish fumes fuming from the fish eaters.
[laughs]
[lips smack]
[gagging]
You see, Mort, I am so happy,
I forgot for a second how disgusting you are.
- Look at you. - Hi.
Fish. Fish.
[gasps]
Fish.
67 hours without the succulent,
salty tang of the sea.
He can't take much more.
Neither can I.
What I'm about to show you is highly classified.
Slide, Private.
Sorry, Skipper.
I don't know how the holiday snaps got in there.
- [smack] - Oh.
- [smack] - Ooh.
- [smack] - Oh.
- [smack] - Ooh.
- [smack] - Oh.
- [smack] - Ooh.
This, gentlemen, is our target.
One standard--
- [smack] - Ooh.
One standard restaurant-grade fish truck.
Where are we on cracking this code, Kowalski?
Oh, its fiendishly clever inscription, Skipper.
Well, I've secured the services of a specialist
for aerial surveillance.
I get a cut of the haul, right?
You'll get your fair share, Pinky.
Mm-hmm.
No, never.
We cannot allow them to return
the ferocious fishing fishy smell to my kingdom.
Gather around.
Now, we need to be doing exactly what I say,
starting with paying strict attention
to me talking right now.
Right now.
Now.
This is wiener one.
I am up and operational.
Target is on the move. Repeat, target is on the move.
Roger that, wiener one.
We are southbound, approaching rendezvous.
[tires squealing]
[static buzzing]
Target turning east onto 23rd street.
Eye in the sky is a go.
34 seconds until fish.
[tires squealing]
Prairie dog blue
and prairie dog red are in position.
Roger, t-minus five, four, three, two, one.
Stopping target. [light buzzes]
[tires squealing]
You are go for insertion.
Go fish.
[sputtering]
[screams]
[engine revs]
[torch crackling]
Private, I want confirmation
that there is food on that vehicle.
[animals growling]
That's affirmative,
but it looks like the food is us.
[dogs barking]
Ah, Skipper! Help!
Hang on, prairie dogs.
Kowalski, keep your eyes on the target.
[tires squealing]
I am locked on, Skipper.
[dogs barking]
This is wiener one. Are we aborting mission?
Repeat, are we aborting mission?
Gentlemen, we are penguins.
We have a natural need to feed on the fruits of the sea.
That's the way momma nature built us.
Now, who wants to spit in the eye of momma nature?
That's what I thought.
We are go for operation.
Target is turning right onto Broadway.
I am sending it to extraction point.
[light buzzing]
[tires screeching]
- Locked. - Uh-uh.
[gagging]
- We're in. - [gurgles]
[lights crackling]
[torch crackling]
Job well done, boys.
We have enough fish to last forever.
Fish. Fish.
♪ Fish ♪
One small problem.
We could not allow for you to return to eating
the savage-smelling, foul-fuming fishy fish.
[snaps]
[grunting]
So I planned to come up with my own carefully planned plan,
to plan to steal the stinkies ourselves.
And my plan all went accordingly... to plan.
So you see, we have the crates with the real fish
while yours are filled with only the phony fish cakes,
so ha-ha-ha-ing.
[grunting]
Oh, nice try, ring tail,
but I know how much you hate the smell of fish.
I was expecting a move like that,
which is why I switched the crates
before you even got back to the zoo.
Ah, but I was expecting you to be expecting that,
so we switcheroo-ed the crates on the pier
before the fish got loading onto the truck.
It doesn't really matter,
because I just switched these crates
- during your last flashback. - Well, I switched them
while you were saying that you switched them.
And I switched them the last time you blinked.
Yes, but I pretended to switch them,
so you actually switched them back.
- Oh, but I double switched. - And I triple switched.
I million zillion switched.
I switched them to infinity,
so you have to shut up a little bit.
Ah, but what you didn't see coming
is that I am actually you. [gasps]
Okay, nicely played, but if you are me,
then by processing of elimination, I must be you.
Maybe. Maybe. But if you are me,
and I am you, then we must both be--
Enough.
Can we just crack these babies open
and get this over with already, please?
[grunting]
Fish cakes?
They're all the phony fish cakes.
Aha, so I am the winner.
Right? I think so.
Eh... can we get an official ruling on this
so I can better enjoy my gloating?
But where are the real fish?
- I have a theory. - Huh?
Suckers.
[statue clanking]
Stay frosty, men.
- Rico. - [laughs]
[gags]
[ice clanking]
[moaning]
Ice is secure, Skipper.
[ice crackling]
Affirmative.
Commence operation frozen glory.
Hockey!
Skipper, I hope this isn't insubordination,
but I'm gonna wipe the ice with you.
I like your sass.
[bangs]
[buzzer]
Whoo-hoo! Strike!
Wrong sport, rodent.
Now get off our ice.
Oh, gee, bird, you don't look happy to see us.
Well, we're not, so why don't you go crawl back
into that sewer you call a home.
- Can't. - The pipes burst.
There's a little too much sewer in the sewer,
so we ain't going nowhere.
Oh, that's a double negative.
Make it a triple. You're out of here.
- This is our base, our home. - Our hockey rink.
Hockey you say?
Is that what these thingies are for?
The technical term is "hockey stick."
And you're holding it wrong.
Tell you what, how about we take you on in hockey?
- You win, we leave. - We win, you leave.
Forget it. Hockey is our sport.
Ice is our element.
We'd slaughter you rookies.
Then what are you afraid of?
All right. Deal.
Kowalski, outfit the sewer rats with the proper equipment.
Oh, that won't be necessary. We brought our own gear.
Uh-oh.
[bass-driven rock music]
Eh--oh. [buzzer]
- Goal! - Goal!
[grunting]
[buzzer]
[grunting] [buzzer]
[panting] [buzzer]
That's game.
You... hustled us.
Oh, yeah. We did.
Now, off our ice, losers.
We lost our ice.
It's worse than that, Private.
We lost our pride.
[shivering]
Cold.
Mort, when it is freezy out, my royal feet
are sensitive with a fearsomeness.
You know this. [shivering]
All right, men, if we're gonna win our ice back,
we need to take our game to the next level.
Um, excuse me,
what in the name of me do you think you are doing?
We're commandeering your ice, ring tail.
Kowalski, I'm open. Hit me.
This looks fun.
[sputtering] Nice grab, Rico.
Oh, I like this ice game.
I declare we lemurs shall play too.
Maurice, order us some uniforms, something in a mauvey
with the tangerine sleeves but not too poofy.
I'd like to maintain my masculinity.
Negatory, our roster is full.
You do not want me to play?
Now you're catching on.
You know, in the sporting teams,
I was always picked last.
Isn't that interesting?
Kowalski, circle back and--
Skipper, maybe we should let Julien play.
After all, it is his ice.
[whimpering]
[groans]
Okay, show me what you got.
[laughs]
- Ow. - It's slippery.
[grunting]
Whoa.
Ha ha. I am a natural. Admit it.
Well, that was-- what's the word I'm looking for?
- [sputters] - Yeah, that's the one.
Okay, boys, let's work on defense.
Ah, ah, ah, you let me on your team
or you go back to play on your own freezy ice.
Give me something else to break.
Well, of course you're on the team,
my little ring-tailed friend.
You can--
Be our... cheerleader?
What is this cheerleader?
Only the most important position on the team.
Well, I am feeling pretty important today.
Yesterday, mm-mmm, but today, yes. Tell me more.
Well, you're the source of inspiration.
And no team can win without inspiration.
Well, I am very inspiring.
Yes, I shall be your leader of cheers.
Ooh, I am twittering with the excitement.
What shall I do first? Tell me.
Leave us be so you could...
you could cook up some really choice cheers.
Maurice, quick, get the pen and paper.
I am feeling crazy with the inspiration.
[groans]
Okay, men, back to work.
We're gonna practice till we're perfect.
Hey, I'm open. I'm open.
I'm--[screams]
[grunting]
- [buzzer] - What?
That's just a little sample of what we brought, rat.
Rematch?
What do you say, boys?
Should we give these birds another whooping?
[laughing]
Yes, stupidy rats.
We will be beating you in this hockey contest.
This clown with you?
Ha, you probably can't even
get the ball into the hoopy thingy.
It's called a puck.
Oh, okay. Okay.
You probably can't even get the ball into the puck thingy.
Cheerleader, off the ice. Now.
You dummy rats shall never score a homely run.
You see, he's the-- we made this deal and--
never mind. Let's play.
[intense rock music]
[laughs]
[grunting]
[buzzer]
Goal!
♪ Every time you penguins score ♪
♪ It's King Julien we adore ♪
Bring me on.
You're not supposed to cheer for yourself.
Oh, I'm not. They are.
[laughs]
[grunting]
Yo, rats, huddle up.
[panting] They're killing us.
Those penguins got good.
Yeah, so we get bad.
[bass-driven rock music]
Whoa.
[screaming]
On a positive note,
the porcupines were very apologetic.
- Can you skate? - S-s-sure.
[screams]
You know, you ain't got a full team,
you forfeit. That means you lose.
Eggs and bacon, man.
We don't have another player.
Technically speaking, Skipper,
that's not entirely true.
♪ All, uh-huh ♪
♪ Across the nation, uh-huh ♪
♪ There's a new, uh-huh ♪
♪ Hockey sensation, uh-huh ♪
♪ Julien, Julien, Julien ♪
Desperate times.
[gasps]
Congratulations. You're in the game.
Hey, look, don't expect me to do nothing
but hold a stick and stand there.
That's all we require.
[bass-driven rock music]
[screams]
Kowalski, speak to me, man.
Just a knock on the old monkey bus.
- Kowalski? - No need to paint.
I'm as flopsy-faced as ever.
I don't think you're fit for duty.
Flibity jibit, man. I'm as juxtaposed
as the next hamburger.
Oh, you're down another player.
Ready to call it quits, penguin?
Negative.
[laughs]
[whimpering]
- [grunting] - [moaning]
Medic.
Okay, it's go time.
Skipper, maybe it's time to admit we lost.
The moo cow may have a chocolate marshmallow.
No, we still have one player left.
Rico, turn me.
Oh, no.
Without my all-important cheerful leading,
how can the game be winned?
Turns out that cheerleading is really not
- so important to hockey. - [gasps]
So the whole game did not rest on my regal shoulders?
Well, no, but it does now.
Ring tail, this whole game has come down to you.
Then I shall not be letting you down.
I shall only be letting you up.
Make way for King Julien, champion hockey guy.
[bass-driven rock music]
Hey, hey, hey. Slow down.
How am I to beat you if you do not slow down?
[buzzer]
They're scoring again.
Defense!
Ah, ah, ah, ah. It must be a cheer.
♪ Defense de-fence ♪
♪ King Julien needs to play defense, rah ♪
Which fence? I see no fence.
Hey, hey, everybody, new rule.
One player on the ice at a time. That way, I--[screams]
You skated across the royal feet.
Your point is?
[stammering]
Oh, here it comes.
[stammering]
None may touch the royal feet!
None!
[grunting]
[laughs] [grunts]
[grunting]
[grunting in slow motion]
No more. We give. We give.
Well, I'll be a bicycle cream cone.
They did it, Skipper. They--ow.
And that is why none may touch the royal feet.
It's true.
Well, there's only one thing to do.
- ♪ All, uh-huh ♪ - ♪ Across the nation, uh-huh ♪
[grunting]
♪ Hockey sensation, uh-huh ♪
♪ Julien, Julien, Julien ♪
Eh?
[brassy detective music]