Penguins of Madagascar 03

Ten years ago, on this very day,|a tiny egg hatched... and our world got a little bit cuter. So, tonight, Private,|we celebrate your birthday... by infiltrating|the United States gold depository... at Fort Knox! Splendid! - What?|- There she is, boys! The object of our unholy desire... the butter on our biscuit... the royal flush...|- Skipper? Private, what's our rule|about interrupting analogies? Sorry.|Please continue. The moment's gone.|Private ruined it. Sir, we're approaching our target. But, Skipper, I really don't... Are you questioning|my leadership, Private? No, sir.|- Too bad. Because I respect a soldier|with some moxie. Really?|Then I really think we should... Whoa, whoa!|Dial back the moxie, sass-mouth! Look at you.|Still so adorable. Fire in the hole! Eight o'clock.|Night-night time! What? Private, come on! Please enter passcode. Kowalski, you're up. Please enter passcode. Rico, sonic incursion device. Oh, come on.|You're kidding, right? Kentucky, Skipper.|They do love their Flatt and Scruggs. Y'all come in now, you hear?|Have yourself an ice tea. Private, if you could have anything|you wanted in the whole wide world... what would it be? Well, gee, Skipper. I think to be a meaningful|and valued member of this team. Oh, well, we got you something else. A vending machine? Not just any vending machine, Private. The last remaining home|in America's nanny state... for those succulent,|but chemically hazardous|bits of puffed heaven called... Cheezy Dibbles! Happy ding-dong birthday,|you little scamp. Thank you! You mess with the bull,|you're gonna get the horns, Private. Now hit that machine|and get your present. We just broke into the most secure facility|in North America. You know what that means? We're wanted criminals|who'll be on the lam|the rest of our lives... always feeling the hot breath|of Johnny Law on our necks? No! it means, as elite units go,|we're the elitist of the elite. Top shelf in the bureau.|The penultimate, plus one. Where'd Private go? There he is.|D-3. Oh, Private. How much is he? He's $3.50, sir. That's outrageous.|Even for Private. Sir, the machine is alive! I don't think I like your attitude,|vending machine. Or your prices! Release them! What the...? Kowalski, analysis! All evidence indicates... I ate too many Cheezy Dibbles. We're behind enemy lines|and incredibly thirsty. Rico, bust us out|of this delicious prison. Nice work, Rico! You are a meaningful|and valued member of this team. Private, quit lollygagging.|And regular gagging. Dark and ominous. Two of my least favorite traits|in a room. Look!|A button. Private, don't! Now, what have I told you about... Sorry, what? It looks like some sort of giant laser|sent to kill us all, sir. Another one! No! What the...? Naughty, naughty! Pretty birds belong in their cages. Now, that's just hurtful. And I was so happy to see you again.