Penguins of Madagascar Movie Novelization

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Penguins of Madagascar Movie Novelization Page 5

by Tracey West

“That’s everything, sir,” Kowalski reported.

  “Have you purged the chemical toilet?” Skipper asked.

  “But Rico was in there for fifteen minutes!” Kowalski protested.

  “Just do it!” Skipper thundered.

  Kowalski pulled a cord, ejecting the stinky blue toilet water from the plane. The penguins couldn’t hear it, but outside the plane, Agent Classified let out a horrified wail. “Nooooooooooo!”

  Classified landed back in the boat, streaked with blue. Corporal wrinkled his nose. “Ew!”

  Short Fuse scooted across the boat. “I respect you, boss,” he said. “I’m just gonna respect you from over here.”

  Frustrated, Classified grabbed the wheel of the boat and steered around a tall, jagged rock jutting out of the water. The cable attached to the VTOL and wound around the rock, stopping the plane in midair.

  The sudden stop knocked the penguins off their feet. Rico’s face hit the button marked self-destruct.

  “Self-destruct activated in five . . . ,” the computer began.

  “No! Private!” Skipper cried. They couldn’t self-destruct. They had to help their little buddy!

  “Four . . . three . . .”

  Skipper’s heart was breaking as he watched the submarine sink beneath the water. “All alone in that cold, metal death sausage.”

  “Two . . .”

  Kowalski scrambled to reach the eject button.

  “Stay strong, soldier!” Skipper shouted down toward the water.

  “One. . . .”

  The three penguins ejected through the floor of the cockpit.

  Eva quickly figured out what was going on. “Abandon ship!” she yelled.

  Boom! The VTOL exploded above them. The North Wind agents dove out of their boat just as Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico crash-landed into it, tearing the boat to pieces.

  CHAPTER 12

  Adrift at Sea

  The sun baked down on Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico as they floated on the ocean waves, clutching a piece of the broken boat.

  “Skipper’s log,” Skipper began. “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.”

  Poor Kowalski was leaning over the side of the debris, seasick. Wild-eyed, Rico had firmly clamped his beak onto Kowalski’s rear end.

  “Please just cut it out!” Kowalski complained.

  “Not sure how we can hold on,” Skipper said, his voice weak. “This may be my final entry.”

  Pop! The cork from a bottle of sparkling nectar hit Skipper in the face.

  He looked up to see the North Wind comfortably eating a meal in their inflatable emergency pod. That conceited crew had rescued the penguins, tying their busted-up boat to the North Wind pod in order to tow it. Their furry leader had said something about them blowing up too many planes. Preposterous!

  In the pod, Short Fuse was pouring the bubbly drink for Agent Classified. The wolf sniffed it.

  “Mmm. Hints of pear, white peaches,” he said contentedly.

  Eva dined off a china plate. “Mmm. This salmon is delicious.”

  “I’ve never been more hydrated in my life!” said Short Fuse, gulping down a glass of water.

  Eva turned to Agent Classified. “Let me cut you a piece of this salmon. It’s the most delicious thing on the boat.”

  “No, thank you, I’m stuffed,” Classified replied. “Ugh. I’ll have to loosen my utility belt.”

  Corporal held out a plate of herring to Short Fuse.

  “No, I’m full,” the baby seal replied. “Just dump it in the ocean.”

  The penguins watched helplessly as Corporal tossed the herring overboard.

  Skipper scowled at Classified. “You know, we’re all in the same boat here.”

  “Actually, we’re not,” Classified replied. “And perhaps you could express a little more concern over the fact that you’ve stolen and destroyed a ninety million dollar vehicle.”

  “Bill me,” Skipper shot back.

  Beep!

  “Corporal?” Classified asked.

  “We’re picking up a signal, sir,” Corporal reported, reading the radar screen. “It’s five clicks southwest. But it’s stopped at that remote island.”

  He pointed ahead, toward a small, crescent-shaped island.

  Skipper paddled forward to get a better look.

  “Land? Good on you! You’ve tracked down some land!” he said.

  “No, silly Willy,” said Short Fuse. “We’ve been tracking your little secretary-slash-mascot.”

  “What? You put a homing device on Private?” Skipper asked incredulously.

  Classified held up his dart gun.

  “All of you, actually, when I darted you,” he replied smugly.

  Skipper hopped into the pod and got in Classified’s face.

  “You low-down, dirty, mangy, filthy, flea-­bitten toilet drinker,” he told him, but he paused. That low-down, dirty, mangy, filthy, flea-bitten toilet drinker had found Private. “But . . . good.”

  “See? I told you. You should have left this to the professionals,” Classified said. He bit down on a biscotti, and the crumbs flew into Skipper’s face. Skipper didn’t notice. He stared uneasily at the island.

  Private was there, somewhere. But was he all right?

  CHAPTER 13

  Test Day

  Private was inside Dave’s submarine, trapped in a cage with the mermaid penguins from the aquarium. A pair of octopus henchmen wheeled the cage past dozens of other penguins in a long hall.

  The other penguins had been caged for a long time now. One of them counted off the days with tally marks on the cage floor. Another played a harmonica, while another did push-up after push-up.

  Dave entered the hall, leaping and swinging from cage to cage with his tentacles. He smiled at the penguins as he passed them.

  “Penguins! Ahoy there!” he greeted them. “Peeeenguiiins . . .”

  He jumped onto the cage with the mermaid penguins.

  “I bet you’re dying to know why I brought you here,” he said.

  One of the mermaid penguins cracked from the stress. “He’s gonna kill us all!” she screamed.

  “What? No. Ew,” said Dave. “My Medusa Serum doesn’t kill anyone. Where’s the fun in that?”

  Private was surprised to hear it. He wanted more information—but he didn’t want to give up his disguise either.

  Dave laughed and pretended he was a game-show host. “So what does it do, Dave?” he asked himself. “Let’s find out!”

  Dave pulled out a random cricket from the group. “Ready . . . ,” he said.

  “No. Not ready. I could use a minute, actually,” the cricket protested.

  Dave ignored the cricket’s protests and gave him to one of his henchmen.

  “Elijah, would you do the honors?” Dave said. “Goggles, everyone!”

  The henchmen put on safety glasses just as the giant ray came to life. A series of lights blinked on, illuminating the serum within.

  The penguins looked on nervously as Dave pressed a button on the remote.

  Zap! The ray fired. A blast of green light electrified the room as a laser crackled loudly.

  The cricket grew to a monstrous size. His cute little face transformed into a hideous mask.

  Dave continued speaking like a game-show host. “And what comes next, Dave? INVASION! Horrible mutant penguins unleashed on the streets of New York City!” Dave then screamed like a panicked human.

  “Crikey!” Private cried, horrified.

  Dave’s head turned at the sound of Private’s voice. He quickly clamped his beak shut.

  “Who said that?” Dave asked.

  He rushed to the mermaid cage and pulled open the cage door. One by one, he tossed the mermaid penguins aside until he came to Private. Then he ripped off Private’s costume.

  “Yes!” Dave cheered. He grabbed Private and held him up “Ge
ntlemen, you remember Private.”

  The henchmen waved.

  “You’ll never get away with this!” Private said furiously. “My brothers are coming, and they’re gonna get you.”

  Dave grinned. “Call off the hunt, everyone,” he told his henchmen. “Turns out, the ‘elite unit’ will be coming to us.” Then he tapped Private’s beak. “Boop!”

  • • •

  The sun set as the North Wind reached the island. They landed and then spread out to watch what was happening with Dave’s submarine.

  “Eva, what do you see?” Agent Classified asked over the radio.

  Eva watched the sub through a pair of binoculars. “My count is thirty hostiles.”

  “Thirty-one,” said a voice next to her.

  Startled, Eva pulled back to see that Kowalski was right next to her, looking through the other eyepiece.

  Kowalski got flustered. “Uh, those two octopi are very close together. I mean, you know. . . .”

  At that moment Rico rose up on the other side of Eva with a coconut on his head for camouflage. Skipper popped up by Kowalski, with a banana strapped to his head.

  “Ix-nay on the irt-flay, Kowalski,” Skipper warned. Then he sighed. “Poor Private. Alone. Helpless in the belly of that beast.”

  “We’ve faced some long odds before, Skipper,” Kowalski said. “But these look like the longest . . . and the oddest. If we’re gonna pull this off, we’ll need a diversion. And fast.”

  Behind them, the green leafy jungle background started to blink and flash.

  “Deactivating jungle camouflage,” a computer announced.

  The holographic screen fizzled out, revealing Classified, Short Fuse, and Corporal.

  “Shh! Will you be quiet?” Classified whispered to Skipper.

  Skipper frowned. “Listen, Classified—”

  Classified cut Skipper off by turning the hologram back on and disappearing behind it.

  “Short Fuse, you were supposed to handcuff them to the raft!” he scolded the baby seal.

  “Don’t you hologram me!” Skipper shouted. He then walked over to the holoscreen controls and shut it off.

  “I tried, but they don’t have hands,” Short Fuse explained to his commander. “They just have flippers, boss, and I have flippers, so it’s flipping useless!”

  Skipper marched up to Classified. “All right, if you won’t work with us, you’d better work for us. Our plan requires a diversion.”

  “I give the orders around here, and as much as it pains me, I need you to act as a diversion for our operation. Understood?” Classified asked.

  “No,” Skipper replied. “This is our plan, and it requires you to cause a diversion.”

  Skipper and Classified got into each other’s faces. Besides everything else they disagreed on, they couldn’t agree on how to pronounce the word “diversion.”

  “Die-version,” said Classified.

  “Dih-version,” countered Skipper.

  “Die,” said Classified.

  “Dih,” said Skipper.

  “Die.”

  “Dih.”

  “Die.”

  “Dih.”

  “Die.”

  “Dih.”

  “Die!”

  “Dih!”

  “Die! Die!” yelled Classified, more frustrated than ever.

  “Gentlemen, there’s only one way to resolve this,” Eva began.

  Kowalski stared at her, totally smitten. “We should kiss!” he blurted out.

  “A Plan-off!” said Eva at the same time.

  Kowalski blushed. “Yep, a Plan-off, that’s what I was going to say,” he said quickly. “A Plan-off.”

  The North Wind agents and penguins retreated to the beach for the Plan-off. Skipper and Classified would each present their plan—and the best plan would win!

  CHAPTER 14

  The Plan-off

  Skipper began the Plan-off by sketching a simple submarine shape in the sand.

  “Here’s Dave’s sub,” he said, and then moved a small rock inside the sub. “And this young, helpless, vulnerable rock is Private.”

  Kowalski and Rico waddled over with a pine­apple made up to look like Octavius Brine.

  “And here’s Dave,” Skipper said. “While you four dih-vert the octopi, we strike fast and strike hard.”

  He attacked the pineapple with punches and kicks.

  “Heeeiiiiyeeeaah!” he cried. “Get on in here, boys. Slap him silly, Rico, come on!”

  Kowalski and Rico joined in.

  “Kowalski, free the hostages!” Skipper yelled.

  Corporal got into the spirit too. The polar bear smashed the pineapple with his big fist.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about, big fella,” Skipper praised him.

  Classified glared at Corporal, who jumped back into position.

  “With Private freshly liberated, we celebrate with a well-earned high-one and a feast of Dave’s sweet remains. Any questions?” Skipper asked.

  The penguins cheered and slapped flippers.

  Classified clapped slowly.

  “Wow, I mean, truly impressive,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Especially the bit where you slap the fruit. Oh!”

  He turned to his team. “Corporal, dim the lights. Short Fuse, glasses.”

  Corporal snuffed out their campfire while Short Fuse handed 3-D glasses to everyone. Classified dropped a cube onto the sand. It instantly transformed into a holographic 3-D dome that surrounded them with maps, charts, and graphs.

  Kowalski was impressed. “Ooh!”

  So was Rico. “Whoaa!”

  Skipper, frowning, refused to be impressed.

  Exciting music played, and the image of Dave’s sub popped up on the dome.

  “My apologies, had to rush a bit, the schematic’s a little crude,” Classified said. “At twenty-one fifty, Skipper, Kowalski, and Richard, is it?—will die-vert the octopi away from their posts.”

  The hologram showed octopi guarding the outside of the sub. They disappeared one by one as Classified explained his plan.

  “At twenty-two hundred, Short Fuse breaches the hull with a swarm of self-guided underwater nanocharges,” Classified went on as Kowalski and Rico watched, entranced.

  In the hologram, an image of Short Fuse swam up to the sub and fired a burst of tiny pellets at it. They spiraled in and attached themselves to the sub’s spinning propulsion system. One by one the pellets exploded, damaging the propulsion and creating an opening in the hull.

  “I call them Wet Booms,” Short Fuse said proudly.

  “Yes, please don’t,” said Classified.

  Short Fuse nodded. “Okay, sorry, sorry.”

  “At zero-nine-zero-two, knock-knock,” Classified went on.

  “Who’s there?” asked Corporal.

  “The North Wind,” replied Classified.

  “The North Wind, who?” Corporal asked.

  “The North Wind who doesn’t have time for knock-knock jokes because we’re too busy taking down Dave,” Classified said with a satisfied grin.

  Skipper’s eyes were glazing over. Sure, Classified’s plan had a bunch of fancy stuff, but that didn’t mean it was better than their pineapple plan, was it?

  Classified gleefully went over their available equipment. “Personal hovertank? Check. Auto-targeting wing mounts? Why not? Oh, and what’s this?”

  Skipper tuned out completely as Classified blabbed on and on, explaining exactly how they were going to take down Dave and rescue the penguins.

  “At twenty-two-zero-nine, mission accomplished!” Classified finished.

  Boom! The submarine in the hologram exploded. An image of Agent Classified appeared, walking out of the wreckage unharmed and dragging Dave behind him.

  “See that? I don’t even look back,” Classified bragged. “There’s a huge explosion, and I just keep walking.”

  The hologram zipped back into the cube. There was a stunned silence as the North Wind broke into applause. Kowa
lski and Rico’s minds were blown.

  “Way to go, boss!” cheered Short Fuse. “That’s North Wind, sucker!”

  “Nicely done,” added Corporal.

  Skipper saw the doubt in Kowalski and Rico’s eyes. He stepped forward.

  “Well, la-di-da, blah blah blah,” he said. “A good plan is about more than effecty stuff and vocabulary words.”

  “Oh, and you, you certainly know a good plan,” said Classified, sarcastically again. “I mean, your operation in Shanghai allowed Dave to escape with your boy.”

  His words felt like a punch in the gut to Skipper.

  “I’ve never lost a member of my team,” Classified went on. “It must feel awful. Can’t imagine the guilt, the regret. The feeling that, I don’t know, it should have been you.”

  Skipper’s heart broke at that moment. He looked down at the sand, at his sketch of the sub with the poor little rock representing Private trapped inside. He had a mental image of Private, who smiled up at him, so trusting.

  “All for penguin plan?” Eva asked.

  Loyal to the end, Kowalski and Rico raised their flippers.

  “All for North Wind plan?” Eva asked.

  Classified’s team raised a wing, a flipper, and a paw—and Skipper raised his flipper too!

  “His,” Skipper said, beaten. “His is better.”

  “What?” Kowalski asked, and Rico looked upset.

  “Sorry, boys, but I can’t lead you this time,” Skipper said.

  “But . . . we’re a team,” Kowalski said. “And you’re our skipper, Skipper. We don’t need these guys.”

  Skipper shook his head. “No, Kowalski. But Private does. I think this time we leave it to the professionals.”

  “But, sir—” Kowalski protested.

  Skipper held up a flipper to stop him. “It’s settled. We take orders from Agent Classified now.”

  Rico’s eyes teared up.

  “That’s an order, Rico,” Skipper said.

  He turned away to hide his true feelings. Skipper was devastated. He hated to turn things over to Agent Classified. But in his heart, he felt like it was the best thing to do for Private. He took a deep breath and turned to face his fluffy new commander.

  “All right, Classified. What’s the diversion?” Skipper asked.

  Classified grinned. Wait till the penguins found out what was in store. . . .

 

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