The Penguins of Madagascar (2008–2015): Season 2, Episode 6 - Mr. Tux/Concrete Jungle Survival - full transcript
The Amarillo Kid arrives and declares that he has a score to settle with "Mr. Tux." Private is ready to move up in rank within the penguin commando unit...or is he?
(Tires squealing)
Punch it, Private!
♪
Ahh!
(Tires squealing)
Private.
What was that!?
You could've broken the track record!
(Chirping)
PRIVATE: Oh, you're
welcome, little guy.
Sorry, Skipper.
I guess nice guys
really do finish last.
Yup, that's just nature's
way, young Private.
VOICE: Yee-haw, hole in one!
Intruder alert.
Mister, I ain't no intruder.
I am the Amarillo Kid.
Should I know you?
Only if your name is...
Mr. Tux.
Oh!
Kowalski, my alias portfolio.
Let's see, there's two-bit
hood Jack the Knife,
international playbird Diego
Garcia, wealthy industrialist
Lincoln Douglas.
I'm not seeing a Mr.
Tux here, Skipper.
Perhaps it was the time I
woke up in that Kyoto hotel
room on a bed of counterfeit
Deutsche Marks.
I'm Mr. Tux.
(Western-style music playing)
(Laughing)
Oh, yeah.
Well thanks, young Private,
I think I got this.
Ha!
Well, Mr. Tux.
Been a long time.
Longer than a yeller snake in
a bowl of red bean chilli.
What?
See, Mr. Tux and me, we have
some unfinished "bidness."
Our Private?
Your business is all
finished, isn't it, Private?
a long, long time.
Yeah, that's right.
Longer than a yeller... Zip it, Kid!
You're wasting your breath.
I'm a different man, now.
Man?
But Private's so...
Private-y.
What's this about?
Mr.
Tux knows what it's about.
I told you.
Never again.
Never say never.
Unless it's when you're
saying never to say... Never.
Heh.
Armadillos are all just whacked
out from the scorching
desert heat.
Well, Private.
What an unexpected dimension
this adds to your character.
Yeah, that's... I don't like it!
I like my men one-dimensional.
Works better for me.
Hmm?
Oh, heh.
Sorry, Skipper.
I was young and foolish.
(Spitting)
Sorry.
Went down the wrong oesophagus.
Here's what we got.
Two eggs, two flapjacks,
two strips of bacon.
One smiley face.
Might make you change your mind.
What do you say, Mr. Tux?
Mr. Tux left nothing but a
trail of broken hearts and
shattered dreams.
Tell you what, you sure
shattered my dreams.
Like a big old china plate.
Of dreams.
No, I will not play your
cursed game, Amarillo Kid.
Well, we'll just see about that,
dramatic pronouncement n'
such Mr. Tux.
What does he mean, game?
It was brutal combat, Skipper,
and I was the best.
But I walked away
before it destroyed me.
Uh, guys?
I think you're gonna
wanna get out here.
(Snorting and snickering)
SKIPPER: Hey, what's the deal?
I'm just warming up on the
locals before I whup Mr. Tux.
Wait, you mean the
"brutal combat" was...?
Mini golf.
(Spitting)
Sorry again.
I thought he said, "mini golf."
No, that's right.
Miniature golf.
(Spitting)
With the windmills and
the neon coloured balls?
And the little pencil-y things?
Oh, you betcha.
Now, if you don't mind,
watch me sink this putt.
Oh, he's made this interesting.
Everybody be interested.
"Made it interesting?"
You mean you're betting this nutball?
Technically, I'm losing
everything to this nutball.
But I can't let that
distract me from my game.
Julian, he's hustling you.
Oh, really?
Well, what makes you think so?
Look out, clown's mouth.
MARLENE: I don't know,
call it a hunch.
Not to worry.
I have already doubled down, so
all I need to do is make this
shot.
Doubled down?
But what have you got left to bet?
Nothing that is too valuable.
Only my "loyalest" subjects.
Yeah, me!
Look, this isn't fair, Kid,
that shot is impossible.
Impossible for him, maybe.
But not for Mr. Tux.
I think I might stuff 'em and
put 'em next to my jackalope.
Maybe put little antlers on them, too.
Call 'em "lemur-lopes."
Wait!
(Dramatic music)
(Clown laughing)
(Bells dinging)
(Whimpering)
I swore, I swore I would never,
ever, ever play that infernal
game again.
(Spitting)
Okay, my bad.
I really should just
put this mug down.
Private.
What could be so infernal
about mini golf?
(Kowalski spitting)
It wasn't the game.
It's what it did to me.
(Western-style music playing)
I started playing for fun.
But I was good.
I was too good.
Pretty soon, every young punk
who thought he could hit a
straight putt came looking for me.
And then one day, a young
armadillo was playing me tough.
(Western-style music playing)
And I started to worry...
That for the first time, I might lose.
So I did the unthinkable.
(Sad music playing)
That was it for me.
I just walked away.
So you quit the game?
Yes, forever.
Over an ice cream cone?
It was a double scoop!
Couldn't you just buy the
girl another ice cream,
or, you know, I don't... It wasn't
just the ice cream, it was me!
The pressure of the competition
was making me tart.
And churlish.
And yes, I'll admit it, at
times, even a bit... Snippety.
Well, Private, as utterly
ridiculous as that sounds to all
of us, we're behind you 100%.
(Banging loudly)
You know what I'm here for.
Sorry, armadillo, Mr.
Tux is retired.
Permanently.
Don't make me take Rico off his leash.
(Growling)
I got a date with destiny, Mister.
You don't mess with destiny.
Or Texas.
Both... What do you say, Mr.
Tux?
Fancy a little game?
I warned you, Kid!
Rico, find the armadillo,
do something horrific.
Oh yeah.
VOICE: Self destruct
sequence initiated.
A thermo fusion reactor!
Yeah, 'bout that?
I took the liberty of changing
the deactivation code.
(Snickering)
So no one gets out of here until
I've had my game with Mr. Tux.
You think you can manually override
the self-destruct sequence?
Probably not.
Private, I know you swore
never to play again.
If he wants Mr.
Tux, I'll give him Mr. Tux.
Now you go get him, Private.
We all believe in you.
(Screaming)
JULIAN: Live from Central Park
Zoo, in, you know, Central
Park, hello and welcome
to the Zoosters Cup.
I will be your whispery announcer guy.
You're gonna give me your best game, Mr.
Tux, or this
whole animal farm won't be worth
more than a toothless sidewinder
on Easter Sunday!
And the trash talk is inscrutable.
He's gonna blow up the zoo?
Ooh!
High stakes, exciting.
Shh, they're about to tee off.
Quiet in the gallery!
The instruction manual is around
here somewhere, I know it.
Here we go, got it!
No, wait, this is for the microwave.
Ohh, we have a popcorn setting?
(Snickering)
Yee haw!
"Press and hold the start
button for five seconds.
Then toggle... "
I'm pressing the start button!
That's the menu button.
Oh, well, which one is...
So, our two mini golf
gladiators enter the
final hole all tied up.
Not like in ropes, but, you
know, like, in scores.
A hush has fallen over the crowd
and I, oh, am I right in the way
here, a little bit?
(Spitting)
It was worth a try!
You hit that shot and
you beat me, Mr. Tux.
Guess you'd best not miss.
Count on it.
(Air hissing)
Oopsie.
(Snickering)
Hey, what was that?
No fair!
I decide what's fair.
And Mr.
Tux needs to sink that shot!
SKIPPER: Private, I know I
throw the encouragement around
like candy.
This time I mean it.
'Cause I have no choice.
Quick, what is he doing?
But that's the opposite direction.
JULIAN: Here we go, for the
match and the bragger's rights.
MAURICE: And all of our lives.
I can't watch!
But I must peek.
(Snickering)
It's all over!
I'm the best!
I told you, I'm fancier than
a peacock in a crow flock.
Yeehaw!
No, Kid.
You might wanna take
back that "yeehaw!"
Huh, what the...?
(Cheering)
He did it!
And the stinky penguin wins!
Yay for the Private in a bowtie!
Well, Kid, you wanted my best game.
How's it taste?
Like a tall glass of loser?
(Gulping)
Kinda.
SKIPPER: Nice job, young Mr.
Tux.
That last shot, I mean, wow!
The ball had totally stopped!
How did you do it, Private?
Well, let's just say...
Nice guys don't always finish last.
Punch it, Private!
♪
Ahh!
(Tires squealing)
Private.
What was that!?
You could've broken the track record!
(Chirping)
PRIVATE: Oh, you're
welcome, little guy.
Sorry, Skipper.
I guess nice guys
really do finish last.
Yup, that's just nature's
way, young Private.
VOICE: Yee-haw, hole in one!
Intruder alert.
Mister, I ain't no intruder.
I am the Amarillo Kid.
Should I know you?
Only if your name is...
Mr. Tux.
Oh!
Kowalski, my alias portfolio.
Let's see, there's two-bit
hood Jack the Knife,
international playbird Diego
Garcia, wealthy industrialist
Lincoln Douglas.
I'm not seeing a Mr.
Tux here, Skipper.
Perhaps it was the time I
woke up in that Kyoto hotel
room on a bed of counterfeit
Deutsche Marks.
I'm Mr. Tux.
(Western-style music playing)
(Laughing)
Oh, yeah.
Well thanks, young Private,
I think I got this.
Ha!
Well, Mr. Tux.
Been a long time.
Longer than a yeller snake in
a bowl of red bean chilli.
What?
See, Mr. Tux and me, we have
some unfinished "bidness."
Our Private?
Your business is all
finished, isn't it, Private?
a long, long time.
Yeah, that's right.
Longer than a yeller... Zip it, Kid!
You're wasting your breath.
I'm a different man, now.
Man?
But Private's so...
Private-y.
What's this about?
Mr.
Tux knows what it's about.
I told you.
Never again.
Never say never.
Unless it's when you're
saying never to say... Never.
Heh.
Armadillos are all just whacked
out from the scorching
desert heat.
Well, Private.
What an unexpected dimension
this adds to your character.
Yeah, that's... I don't like it!
I like my men one-dimensional.
Works better for me.
Hmm?
Oh, heh.
Sorry, Skipper.
I was young and foolish.
(Spitting)
Sorry.
Went down the wrong oesophagus.
Here's what we got.
Two eggs, two flapjacks,
two strips of bacon.
One smiley face.
Might make you change your mind.
What do you say, Mr. Tux?
Mr. Tux left nothing but a
trail of broken hearts and
shattered dreams.
Tell you what, you sure
shattered my dreams.
Like a big old china plate.
Of dreams.
No, I will not play your
cursed game, Amarillo Kid.
Well, we'll just see about that,
dramatic pronouncement n'
such Mr. Tux.
What does he mean, game?
It was brutal combat, Skipper,
and I was the best.
But I walked away
before it destroyed me.
Uh, guys?
I think you're gonna
wanna get out here.
(Snorting and snickering)
SKIPPER: Hey, what's the deal?
I'm just warming up on the
locals before I whup Mr. Tux.
Wait, you mean the
"brutal combat" was...?
Mini golf.
(Spitting)
Sorry again.
I thought he said, "mini golf."
No, that's right.
Miniature golf.
(Spitting)
With the windmills and
the neon coloured balls?
And the little pencil-y things?
Oh, you betcha.
Now, if you don't mind,
watch me sink this putt.
Oh, he's made this interesting.
Everybody be interested.
"Made it interesting?"
You mean you're betting this nutball?
Technically, I'm losing
everything to this nutball.
But I can't let that
distract me from my game.
Julian, he's hustling you.
Oh, really?
Well, what makes you think so?
Look out, clown's mouth.
MARLENE: I don't know,
call it a hunch.
Not to worry.
I have already doubled down, so
all I need to do is make this
shot.
Doubled down?
But what have you got left to bet?
Nothing that is too valuable.
Only my "loyalest" subjects.
Yeah, me!
Look, this isn't fair, Kid,
that shot is impossible.
Impossible for him, maybe.
But not for Mr. Tux.
I think I might stuff 'em and
put 'em next to my jackalope.
Maybe put little antlers on them, too.
Call 'em "lemur-lopes."
Wait!
(Dramatic music)
(Clown laughing)
(Bells dinging)
(Whimpering)
I swore, I swore I would never,
ever, ever play that infernal
game again.
(Spitting)
Okay, my bad.
I really should just
put this mug down.
Private.
What could be so infernal
about mini golf?
(Kowalski spitting)
It wasn't the game.
It's what it did to me.
(Western-style music playing)
I started playing for fun.
But I was good.
I was too good.
Pretty soon, every young punk
who thought he could hit a
straight putt came looking for me.
And then one day, a young
armadillo was playing me tough.
(Western-style music playing)
And I started to worry...
That for the first time, I might lose.
So I did the unthinkable.
(Sad music playing)
That was it for me.
I just walked away.
So you quit the game?
Yes, forever.
Over an ice cream cone?
It was a double scoop!
Couldn't you just buy the
girl another ice cream,
or, you know, I don't... It wasn't
just the ice cream, it was me!
The pressure of the competition
was making me tart.
And churlish.
And yes, I'll admit it, at
times, even a bit... Snippety.
Well, Private, as utterly
ridiculous as that sounds to all
of us, we're behind you 100%.
(Banging loudly)
You know what I'm here for.
Sorry, armadillo, Mr.
Tux is retired.
Permanently.
Don't make me take Rico off his leash.
(Growling)
I got a date with destiny, Mister.
You don't mess with destiny.
Or Texas.
Both... What do you say, Mr.
Tux?
Fancy a little game?
I warned you, Kid!
Rico, find the armadillo,
do something horrific.
Oh yeah.
VOICE: Self destruct
sequence initiated.
A thermo fusion reactor!
Yeah, 'bout that?
I took the liberty of changing
the deactivation code.
(Snickering)
So no one gets out of here until
I've had my game with Mr. Tux.
You think you can manually override
the self-destruct sequence?
Probably not.
Private, I know you swore
never to play again.
If he wants Mr.
Tux, I'll give him Mr. Tux.
Now you go get him, Private.
We all believe in you.
(Screaming)
JULIAN: Live from Central Park
Zoo, in, you know, Central
Park, hello and welcome
to the Zoosters Cup.
I will be your whispery announcer guy.
You're gonna give me your best game, Mr.
Tux, or this
whole animal farm won't be worth
more than a toothless sidewinder
on Easter Sunday!
And the trash talk is inscrutable.
He's gonna blow up the zoo?
Ooh!
High stakes, exciting.
Shh, they're about to tee off.
Quiet in the gallery!
The instruction manual is around
here somewhere, I know it.
Here we go, got it!
No, wait, this is for the microwave.
Ohh, we have a popcorn setting?
(Snickering)
Yee haw!
"Press and hold the start
button for five seconds.
Then toggle... "
I'm pressing the start button!
That's the menu button.
Oh, well, which one is...
So, our two mini golf
gladiators enter the
final hole all tied up.
Not like in ropes, but, you
know, like, in scores.
A hush has fallen over the crowd
and I, oh, am I right in the way
here, a little bit?
(Spitting)
It was worth a try!
You hit that shot and
you beat me, Mr. Tux.
Guess you'd best not miss.
Count on it.
(Air hissing)
Oopsie.
(Snickering)
Hey, what was that?
No fair!
I decide what's fair.
And Mr.
Tux needs to sink that shot!
SKIPPER: Private, I know I
throw the encouragement around
like candy.
This time I mean it.
'Cause I have no choice.
Quick, what is he doing?
But that's the opposite direction.
JULIAN: Here we go, for the
match and the bragger's rights.
MAURICE: And all of our lives.
I can't watch!
But I must peek.
(Snickering)
It's all over!
I'm the best!
I told you, I'm fancier than
a peacock in a crow flock.
Yeehaw!
No, Kid.
You might wanna take
back that "yeehaw!"
Huh, what the...?
(Cheering)
He did it!
And the stinky penguin wins!
Yay for the Private in a bowtie!
Well, Kid, you wanted my best game.
How's it taste?
Like a tall glass of loser?
(Gulping)
Kinda.
SKIPPER: Nice job, young Mr.
Tux.
That last shot, I mean, wow!
The ball had totally stopped!
How did you do it, Private?
Well, let's just say...
Nice guys don't always finish last.