Penguins of Madagascar Movie Novelization (4 page)

“Hey! Get away! No more hugs!” Skipper complained, trying to bat him away.

“It's like being licked by a basketful of puppy dogs!” the polar bear said happily.

“Corporal!” the wolf barked. The unit leader was steering the plane.

Corporal reluctantly put down the penguins.

“Chart a course back to North Wind head­quarters,” the wolf instructed him.

Corporal backed away, forming a heart with his hands and grinning at the penguins before getting back into mission mode.

Then the wolf nodded to the white snowy owl. “Eva, inform them that we're bringing in witnesses,” he ordered.

Skipper didn't like the sound of that at all. “Private, Dibble me,” he said.

Private handed him a bag of Cheezy Dibbles, and Skipper jumped onto the plane's dashboard.

“We're not going anywhere with you,” he told
the wolf commander, stuffing a Dibble into his beak. “We don't even know who the heck you are!”

“The North Wind is an elite—” the commander began.

Crunch!
Skipper chomped down on a Dibble.

“An elite undercover, interspecies—”

Crunch!
Skipper chomped down again.

“Task—”

Crunch!

“Force, dedicated to helping—”

Crunch!

“Animals who can't help—”

Crunch!

“Themselves—”

Crunch!

“Like penguins,” the wolf finished.

“Really?” asked Skipper, insulted. “And
you
are?”

“My name is classified,” the wolf responded.

“Classified, eh? What is that, Dutch?” Skipper asked. “Can't really hear the accent.”

“My name isn't ‘Classified.' My name is classified because I am the team leader,” he informed Skipper.

He swung around on his chair to face the rest of his team.

“The seal is Short Fuse, explosives expert,” he said. “The bear is Corporal—he's our muscle. And the lovely lady in white is Eva, intelligence and analysis. We're an elite unit.”

“Well, Agent Classified, we happen to be an elite unit too,” Skipper said. For effect, he pressed one of the buttons on the dashboard with his foot.

“Self-destruct sequence activated in three . . . two . . . one . . . ,”
the computer calmly warned.

“You know, you should really label these things,” Skipper said.

Classified pressed a button to end the self-­destruct sequence.

“The name's Skipper,” Skipper said. “I run this outfit. Back there is Kowalski. He's the brains of our operation. Say something smart, Kowalski.”

But Kowalski was staring at Eva, his mouth wide open. He had never seen such a beautiful bird!

“See? He's working on a whole 'nother level,” Skipper bragged. “And Rico, he's our demolition expert.”

Rico hopped up onto Short Fuse's seat, jammed his head into the cushion, and popped up with the chair's stuffing in his mouth.

“He destroyed that chair for the sheer fun of it,” Skipper said. “No reason at all! And then there's Private.”

Private puffed out his chest and saluted.

“He's uh, sort of our secretary-slash-mascot,” Skipper said.

Private tried to hide his disappointment. Is that all he was to the team?

“Cute,” said Agent Classified, noticing his sad face.

“And cuddly,” Corporal added.

Classified shot him a look.

“Sorry,” Corporal said, and turned back to his computer screen.

The VTOL had swiftly cleared the continent and now soared over the icy northern Atlantic. Classified cranked the throttle forward, launching the craft into a steep dive, aiming at an iceberg floating on the water below.

“Let's see how cute and cuddly handles this next bit,” Classified said under his breath.

But the penguins kept their cool as the VTOL zoomed toward the iceberg, looking like it was going to crash into it at any moment. Just before they made contact, a door slid open on the side of the iceberg, allowing them to fly inside.

“Nice doggy door,” Skipper scoffed.

Classified brought the VTOL to a stop on a landing pad. Another door opened in front of them to reveal the North Wind headquarters: a massive high-tech fortress with dozens of agents scurrying about.

An announcement rang through the compound.
“Arrival. Pad seventeen. Arrival. Pad seventeen.”

The penguins peered out of the window, impressed.

“Well, well, well,” said Skipper. “Not a bad place you got here, Classified.”

“Thank you. That's not my name,” the agent replied.

Moments later, the four penguins
and the North Wind agents sat around a large table in the North Wind situation room. They faced a giant projection of a world map.

Classified stirred a cappuccino as he began the briefing. “All right, tiny penguins, the best way for the North Wind to protect helpless animals like yourselves is to bring Dr. Brine to justice. Now you were inside his sub, so I need to know everything you know.”

He turned to the penguins to the answer, but they were too busy playing with their fancy hydraulic
chairs. Skipper pressed a pedal and the chair shot up high. The others did the same.

“Yee-hoo!” Skipper cheered.

“Raaaah!” Rico growled.

“Haaaa!” cried Kowalski.

“Weeeee!” squealed Private.

Agent Classified was not amused. “Just tell me everything you know,” he said, pulling out a notebook.

The penguins lowered their chairs and got serious—well, sort of.

“All right,” Skipper began. “Hot dogs are in fact only seventeen percent actual dog.”

Classified sighed. “Not
everything
everything. Just everything regarding your abduction by Dr. Octavius Brine.”

He wheeled Skipper over to a photo of Dr. Brine on the evidence wall.

“Ah, why didn't you say so?” Skipper asked. “My team has uncovered that Dr. Octavius Brine is actually an individual known as Derek—”

“Dave,” Kowalski corrected him.

“—as Dave the octopus,” Skipper finished.

“An octopus?” Short Fuse laughed smugly. “No, Dr. Brine is not an octopus. He's—”

“An octopus! Precisely!” said Classified. “That's exactly what our intel indicated.”

He coughed, and removed a photo of a sheep from the evidence wall. His guess had been way off, but he didn't want the penguins to know that.

Then he whispered into his watch. “Release the sheep.”

He turned back to the penguins. “But what you of course, could
not
know, is that Dr. Brine's laboratory in Venice is secretly developing a doomsday weapon called the Medusa Serum.”

Classified pointed to a picture of a canister filled with green goop.

“Ah, but what you don't know is that Dirk—” Skipper began.

“Dave,” Kowalski corrected.

“Dave won't be using his Bazooka Serum—”

“Medusa Serum,” said Kowalski.

“Medusa Serum on anybody!” finished Skipper.

Kowalski nodded. “That part is accurate.”

“Show 'em, Rico!” Skipper ordered.

Rico coughed up the canister.

Classified looked stunned. “You . . . you stole the Medusa Serum?”

Skipper grinned triumphantly. “Well, ‘stole the serum,' ‘saved the day,' ‘did your job for you,' call it what you will.”

Classified growled just as a static sound filled the room. Suddenly, Dave's face appeared on the large screen!

“Debbie!” Skipper cried.

“Dave,” Kowalski corrected him.

“Dave!” Skipper cried.

“He hacked into our system!” Corporal reported.

On the screen, Dave looked like he was giving an amazing, villainous speech, but there was no sound to go with it.

“Where's the sound?” Eva asked in a Russian accent. “I can't hear anything.”

Kowalski yelled at the screen. “Dave! Your microphone. It's not on!”

Confused, Dave started pressing buttons.

“Click on the button with the picture of the microphone,” Classified instructed.

Short Fuse frowned. “Every time a villain calls in, this happens. That's so annoying. Every time!”

Dave's screen froze and then went blank.

“Hello? Hello?” Dave's voice rang out.

“Now we can hear you, but we can't see you,” Kowalski reported.

“I thought it was this button,” Dave said, reaching again.

Classified sighed. “It's like talking to my parents.”

The screen popped up again, and now they could see Dave wearing glasses and peering at buttons, his face close to the camera.

“How about now?” Dave asked.

The penguins and agents let out a cheer.

“Excellent. Now where was I?” Dave tossed his glasses, leaned in, and laughed evilly.

“Dave!” Kowalski cried.

“Greetings, North Wind,” Dave began. “I see you've met my old zoo mates.”

“We were never ‘mates,' ” Skipper corrected him.

“Turn yourself in, David,” Agent Classified urged. “You're powerless now that I have your precious Medusa Serum.”

He held up the canister for Dave to see.

“What? You! You didn't steal that!” Skipper protested.

“It's over,” Agent Classified said, ignoring Skipper.

“It's over? Then why did I call you?” Dave asked. “Weird. Oh! Maybe it was to show you this.”

Dave panned the camera to reveal a giant vat of the green serum behind him. Classified looked down at the small canister he was holding. Dave had much, much more.

“That's a lot of serum for four penguins,” Kowalski noticed.

“Aw, you thought this was just for you four?” Dave asked. “No, no, no. We're just getting started. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go do some shopping . . . for revenge!”

He fumbled with the buttons again. “Wait, how do you . . .”

His octopus henchmen helped him, and the screen finally flipped off.

Boop! Boop!
A message flashed on the screen in front of Eva.

“Incoming alert!” she cried.

“Put it on the screen!” Classified commanded.

Eva typed on her keyboard, and the map of the world appeared back on the screen. A window popped up on the map with a picture of a penguin inside it.

“Berlin! Fifteen penguins missing,” Eva reported.

“Dave's kidnapping other penguins!” Private cried.

“No doubt cute and cuddly,” added Corporal.

“We have to move!” Agent Classified and Skipper said at the same time.

Then they looked at each other.

“What?” they both asked. They were both used to being the one in charge.

“Time for our ‘A' game,” Classified told his agents.

“Everybody huddle up!” Skipper told his team.

“Corporal, ready the jet,” Classified said. “I'm
initiating North Wind Protocol Zeta.”

Boop! Boop!
Eva got another alert. “Twelve more penguins taken from London!” she informed them.

Skipper and the boys jumped into a huddle. “Okay, boys, this is it, the mission we've been preparing for our entire lives. We're gonna take down Dave or die trying.”

He turned to Kowalski. “Cancel our improv class.”

“Yes, sir!” Kowalski replied.

“Rico, equipify!” Skipper commanded.

Rico grunted.

“Private, do that little thing I like,” Skipper ordered.

Private grinned and gave a silly salute.

“Ha-ha! It's still funny,” Skipper said.

Kowalski put down his phone. “Skipper! Good news! I got them to credit our class.”

The two teams sprang into action. While Corporal readied the VTOL, the penguins helped themselves to some cool gear. They raced back into the situation room loaded with rocket launchers, jet packs, and grenades.

“Aw yeah, baby!” Skipper cheered.

“They're stealing my stuff!” Short Fuse said angrily.

Agent Classified stepped in front of them.

“No! This mission is no place for a pathetic waddle of useless penguins!” he said firmly.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Who are you calling pathetic?” Skipper asked.

“Enough!” Classified shouted, pounding his paw on the table.

Rico was sitting right there. The table bumped up, he burped, and a rocket shot out of his mouth.

Boom!
It crashed through the window and blew up the VTOL that Corporal had just prepared.

“See, Rico, that's why you can't have nice things,” Skipper said.

Fwip!
Agent Classified shot a tranquilizer dart at Skipper.

Instantly, Skipper's whole world went dark.