[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.
[thrilling music]
♪ ♪
[all grunting]
[mean-spirited laughter]
- The Vesuvius twins. - Oof.
Okay, kiddies,
time to go make someone else's life miserable.
- Cool! - I love misery!
Is it really over?
And with no permanent injuries or--
[jabbering]
Backpack!
Well, well.
Looks like tweedle-dim and tweedle-dangerous
forgot their goody bag.
Skipper, a Vesuvius boy's backpack
is a minefield of deadly peril.
Firecrackers, shaken-up soda cans,
sharpened number 2 pencils.
I know. Free arsenal, right?
I don't know.
Of course, it's dangerous, compadre.
That's why we are not taking any chances.
- Private is. - What?
[whimpering and clanking]
You're doing great!
[gasps]
Oh, phew.
It's just a bunch of superhero comic--
Drop the comics, Private!
Huh?
What's wrong, Skipper?
Some hidden danger inside the comic books?
You blind fools.
Comic books are the danger.
Uh, what?
Spangly costumes and shouted catchphrases
are the mortal enemies of covert operations.
We work in shadows, not stretchy pants.
Surely there's no harm in reading about superheroes.
Or in our case, looking at all the pretty pictures.
That's always where it starts.
And it ends with some geeked-out yahoo
playing dandy lad dress-up.
Look at these things!
- Fancy-suited heroes. - Oh...
- High-tech gadgetry! - Ah...
Page after page of epic combat!
[chuckling]
Nope, the pull of caped crime fighting
is too great for the weak and nerdy-minded.
all: Uh-huh.
Well, I'm off to the dumpster.
That... need... look at...
all: Uh-uh.
What if Skipper wakes up?
Well, he's going to sleep like a baby,
courtesy of Mr. Snoozytime's fighty nighty-night mobile.
[cooing]
He's so sweet when he dreams about
vanquishing his mortal enemies.
They're more glorious than I dreamed.
To the picture book nook!
[chortling]
[all giggling]
- These things are fantastic! - Totally!
- Yeah! Yeah! - And look at us.
We're not out playing dress-up
in spangly uniforms.
That Skipper doesn't know what he's talking about.
Pfft, yeah.
To be a real superhero,
you'd need some special ability,
like Rico's power vomiting.
- [explosion] - My car!
Ah-ah!
Or--or some kind of special suit.
Like my armor.
And, well, obviously,
you couldn't have a super team
without a resident super genius.
[giggles]
[chuckles gleefully]
[bell tolls]
Midnight... the hour when evil
slithers out to wreak its...
evil.
But beware, evil, for this zoo is guarded by...
Steel Penguin!
The Throbbing Cerebellum!
Barf Bag!
Barf Bag, really?
I thought we agreed on Wonder Tongue.
- Barf Bag! - [giggles]
This is the coolest thing we've ever done.
Agreed. Let's go thwart some evil!
Ain't no secret to a good wet Willy.
You just just got to let the mucus do what it do.
- Huh? - Wha--
Ah! [gorillas grunt]
Whoa!
- Hey! - What's a matter here?
Stop being naughty!
- Huh? - Ooh, good catchphrase.
Oh, help me!
Ah! Oh!
I wanted to see where the air lives.
Stop being naughty.
Ooh.
Okay.
[groaning]
This is the most uncomfortable pillow in the world.
Agh!
[grunting]
Stop being naughty.
What in the--
oh, well, this is nice.
So I guess that was pretty much it on the evil tonight.
Yup.
Ooh, the clock tower's a few minutes slow.
That's inconvenient.
To the clock tower!
[grunting]
- Yes! - Woo-hoo!
And thus the dawn rises on a crime-free morning.
Gentlemen, we've done some good.
[metallic grinding]
- Oof! - What in the world's going on?
Big Ben almighty! What's the racket?
Ditch the evidence!
[grunting]
Nice reaction time, boys.
I didn't even see you leave the lair.
Yeah. How about that?
Anybody catch a peep at the perp?
We've already made a thorough search,
and there's absolutely zero evidence anywhere,
so we should all leave now without asking any questions.
Who wants snow cones?
[clamoring]
- I'll take two! - You got rainbow?
What's a snow cone?
I have a question, Kowalski.
Why is there a cape stuck to your foot?
I don't see a-- [screams]
Not just a cape, a spangly superhero cape.
Yo, I seen that cape last night.
Couple of super guys totally interrupted our, uh...
Legitimate business endeavors.
Deviled ham! Some starry-eyed milksop
must have gotten hold of those accursed comic books!
Skipper, I think I know--
How to catch these misguided nerds:
an old-fashioned stakeout.
A stakeout, eh?
I like it.
Assemble the usual supplies.
We roll with the dusk.
So we're having a stakeout to catch ourselves.
No, we're having a stakeout to catch nobody.
When no superheroes show,
Skipper will assume they've given up,
and we can forget this whole thing.
- Oh. - Ooh.
That's impressive.
Yes, the cerebellum never stops throbbing.
Huh, a super no-show.
Well, looks like they've given up, boys.
Well, I guess we can call it a--
[scream]
Flamingo habitat. Move in!
And then some freak in a cape
zoomed through and took my lucky feather.
So now it's come to super thievery.
Curse you, comic books!
Someone in a cape?
- How is that even-- - Peanuts!
What kind of monster would swipe a guy's peanut bag?
Mysterious supervillain in a cape?
Wow, I was just being rhetorical,
but, yeah, how'd you know?
- Stop! Thief! - [trumpets]
Engage that billowy cape!
[panicked yelling]
Blast! This thief is a slippery geek indeed.
We've hidden the truth long enough, Kowalski.
There's a real bad guy out there now
and there's only one way
- to stop a supervillain. - Right!
Rico, I'm gonna need a claw hammer, 16 roofing nails,
and a presidential pardon.
No. The answer is...
with superheroes.
Fine.
Also, we broke the clock.
Yeah, I got that.
Help, save the royalty!
Fear not, citizen. Justice approaches! Hyah!
Do you have to talk like that?
Sorry.
Um, what's going on?
Julien? Where are you?
[evil laughter]
Oh, hello.
Welcome to my trap.
- [gasps] - No way!
Our mystery foe is Julien?
Well, it's--no.
No.
It is not this Julien.
It is I who is me,
the Masked Booty!
But you're not wearing a mask.
- Ugh. - Oh.
Oh, please.
Who is the bottom in your face?
You don't know because it's wearing a mask.
[maniacal laughter]
[grunting]
Get him!
Look, I've been reading
about it in these picture books
I found by the dump box.
It's all in there.
Ringtail, you lunatic!
You're aping the bad guy.
Wait, uh, I don't think so.
See...
He puts on a mask,
and then everybody has to give him all their stuff.
It's like being a super king.
Didn't you read to the end?
The inevitable comeuppance?
[grunting]
Of course, I read it to the-- oh, no.
- Agh! - Ow!
Well, then, allow me to teach you how this story ends.
Skipper, you?
You're a comic book geek?
Yes, and way to really underline the irony, Private.
And now it's time the Masked Booty
met my superhero alter-ego:
Slappy Hurtpunch.
[chuckling] Slappy Hurtpunch?
Are you serious? That is your name?
[laughs]
Do you even have any super powers, Slappy?
Just one.
Slap! Hurt! Punch!
Hold on a second.
He's my wacky comicry book sound effects guy.
It's great, isn't it?
And we fight.
[smack]
Blam.
Whoof!
Pow.
Krack-a-kowie.
[moaning]
No more.
I am making my super retirement.
Retirement.
Thanks, Slappy. [giggles]
No, no, seriously.
Cool name. [snickers]
Did you really have to be so thorough with him?
You know how these comic book stories go, Private,
always copping out with some ambiguous ending
to keep you hooked for the next time.
Well, you can take it from Ringtail.
This is absolutely, without question, the end.
That's debatable.
[medieval music]
♪ ♪
Men, we live as a unit, we fight as a unit,
and we sleep as a unit.
[yawns] It's been a rough week
in the battle for shut-eye.
both: Ah!
The lemur auditory assault has been merciless.
[growls and squeaks]
But tonight, it's doze or die.
Arm yourselves for lights out.
[alarm rings, cracks]
[Clank]
Uh, nightcap, Skipper?
Good point.
Warm milk puts me out
like a teeny-tiny little baby.
I mean, that's not your nightcap.
That is.
Okay.
Maybe I'm not 100% sleep-shape, ship-wise.
[snores]
Commencing lights out protocol.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Where's the Private?
For my kind author, when I may curtsy,
bid me farewell.
Oh, bravo! Bravo!
[bell tolls] [gasps] Lights out!
Reporting, Skipper.
- Sorry, I was-- - Fraternizing with the enemy.
Is that it, Private?
Have you finally flipped on us?
No, Skipper, never.
See, the play's the thing.
- I was-- - Save it!
I'll wring the answers out of you in the A.M.
Now hit the bunks.
What's up with Skipper?
He seems a bit crabby and paranoid.
I mean, you know, more than usual.
Lemur party-induced chronic insomnia,
commonly known as L.P.I.C.I.,
at least by me.
Earlier tonight, he spent an hour
interrogating the coffee machine.
Give me your dark, beany secrets.
Oh, Skipper.
"Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels--"
Batten it, Private.
10:00 P.M. Lights out. Seriously.
Ten of the clocks!
I declare Lemur-morial Day's Eve festivities
open for partyings!
- Oh, let me! - ♪ Hey-o ♪
[loud, thumping music]
Sweet and sour meatballs! Don't those lemurs ever sleep?
Kowalski, review recent boom box countermeasures.
Let's see.
Monday, asked nicely to turn music down.
[jazzy dance music]
Be quiet!
Hey, this is New York, the city that never sleeps!
Because of you!
Tuesday, gave dirty looks.
[country western dance music]
Oof!
Wednesday, blasted penguin mating calls full volume.
[high-pitched twittering]
♪ Hey-o ♪
No effect, at least not on the lemurs.
How you doing?
Recommendations for next move.
"To be, or not to be: that is the question."
We need action, not waffling.
Rico.
Voila!
I like the way you think, soldier.
Perhaps we should try diplomacy.
The art of resolving disputes by negotiation
or other non-military means.
Mm-hmm, great. Why don't we just have
a quilting bee while we're at it?
I know, it goes against every bone
in your thermo-regulated body, Skipper,
but the diplomatic approach has been known to work.
Except when it doesn't.
[yawns] All right.
Anything to get a few dozen winks.
- [gavel squeaks] - At the behest
of the penguins, we call these peace treaty talks to order.
Ah, quite right, Phil.
That is, disturbing the peace treaty.
Thank you, thank you.
As king, I will speak first.
I shall give to you,
uh, Mort,
and you shall, you know, go away.
Oh, I'm a bargaining chip, yay!
We demand a 10:00 curfew.
No prob--hey!
10:00? Ten?
Okay, we have not even begun to rock out by then.
I laugh at that.
"Oh, Ruffians that will swear,
"dance, revel the night!
Hours filled up with riots, banquets, sports!"
Private, knock off the old-timey yackety-yak!
- We're negotiating. - But--but Skipper, it's--
Time for you to be confined to quarters.
- On the double. - Aye, milord.
"And so, from hour to hour, we rot and rot."
[gasps] Oh, goody! I can still catch the show.
[applause]
And so we return, conquering, uh--what's that word
- for weaklings again? - Diplomats.
All I know is I'm finally gonna win the battle
for the land of nod.
Private's gone AWOL again!
Game over, Private.
Who you working for?
"I am amazed and know not what to say."
That code again.
Who's your outside contact?
Skipper, Private's no double agent.
He can't even cheat at Go Fish.
All right. Stand down, Rico.
- [yelps] - Know this, Private.
I may be operating on short sleep rations,
but I have one watery, bloodshot,
highly trained eye on you.
- Understood? - Aye, verily.
And one more thing!
I have one watery, bloodshot, highly trained eye on you.
Understood?
[gavel squeaking]
Disturbing the peace treaty talks, round two.
We've reviewed the treaty.
It's one-sided, demoralizing, insulting--
oh, two-ply--and good to go.
Not so quickly, tuxedo bird.
We wish to add some teensy appendages.
Note the last item there.
Your big-brained penguin will invent for me
the solar-powered karaoke.
Oh, oh, and this one time, this guy said,
"Better a witty fool than a foolish wit."
Ooh, how great is that?
Hold on a minute.
All right, keep talking.
We had a deal.
And we still do.
I have just swapped the parts I don't like
with the parts I do like.
- Take it or heave it. - Leave it.
Leave it? Wait, leave what?
[sighs] I'll sign.
Skipper, you're not thinking clearly.
"A pox upon you, you muddy rascals!"
[giggles] That was a good one.
Don't try to confuse me with your legalese.
How about, "You're just little leather jerkin,
"crystal-button, agate-ring, puke-stocking,
caddis-garter, Spanish-pouches!"
It's true! [sobs]
I think.
I do not know these words,
but I know when I am insulted,
and I am insulted!
I heave it.
Wait, he didn't mean it.
Where's a pen? I need a pen.
Too late.
Eh, good luck snoozing tonight.
I am turning the volumes knobby up to me-leven... teen!
No! He doesn't speak for us.
He's gone AWOL!
He's a turncoat!
Turncoat!
You're really not thinking clearly.
[distorted] But Skipper, it was just
Shakespeare in the park.
Spears! Shaking! In the park.
It's worse than I thought.
[explosions] Did you hear that? Artillery.
The Spear-shakers are coming.
Put Private in lockdown.
- But Skipper-- - That's an order, Kowalski!
Now, you might want to dial back ye olde fancy talk.
Do you even know what those words mean?
Uh, nay?
The blast of war blows in our ears.
Hear that voice? That's war talk.
Just look at the size of that enemy encampment.
There must be nearly 1892 of them.
Looks to me like an innocent theatrical presentation.
What have kings that Privates have not too?
You call that innocent? It's in code again.
Something about making Private a king.
- Do you really think-- - This is not a drill!
It's a full-on coup!
Initiate operation break spear.
Phase one, locate enemy munitions.
[snores]
[cackles maniacally]
Please, we've got to help Skipper.
He's got acute sleep deprivation.
La-la-la-la-la.
I'm not hearing why you think he's cute,
- you traitor, you. - I'm not a traitor!
I was just quoting Shakespeare.
That last one was from "King Henry V."
What?
Who is claiming to be a king named Henry?
That is a very stupid name for a king.
You will lead me to this stupid Henry immediately
so as to ridicule his name and physical appearance.
- [tape rips] - [yelps]
Prepare for combat.
I love thee, Kate.
I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen.
[heavy footsteps]
Wait, what play are we doing?
- [metallic clang] - [screams]
Oh, look!
That guys is hitting that other guy
with sharp pointy metal.
I took stage combat at Yale drama.
Should have gone to knight school. [chuckles]
[gasps] It's the guys!
If I know anything about sword fights,
they're losing big-time.
Come on!
There are animals everywhere! [crowd screaming and yelling]
[snores]
Skipper.
I will interrupt that silly king.
Perhaps a diversion.
No cannonballs.
[screams]
What play is this?
Okay, I have two big problematic problems with you,
you pretend-y king.
[shrieks]
- Rabid spider monkey! - What?
Hi, guys!
You... traitor!
[gasps] What have I done?
What have I done?
[snores]
What have I done?
He definitely needs a nap.
Forgive me, Private.
I'll forgive you, Skipper.
It's not your fault you can't sleep.
Private!
You should be with Manfredi and Johnson!
You know, one up there, one down there.
No, it's make-believe, see? Harmless.
[cheers and laughter]
Oh, no, it isn't.
You fat-witted, clay-brained guts,
you knotty-pated fool.
[laughs] I love this theater thing.
I am adding season tickets to our list of demands.
I don't think we need a treaty anymore.
Skipper's finally found a place he can get some sleep.
[snores]
♪ ♪