(GRUNTING)
(COUGHING)
(PURRING)
OPUS: Wings, Mr. Santy Claus,
I need new wings.
Not fancy wings,
just plain-Jane, low-rent, barely bent,
home-grown, bare-bone, off-the-shelf,
two-part, Kmart, no-frills flappers.
They would be an improvement over my own.
As your records should show, I am a bird.
Specifically, a penguin,
an embarrassing accident of birth
for which I do not blame my mother.
I prefer to blame
(SWALLOWING)
Congress.
For the first time in my life,
I have a request for Your Plumpness.
Let me start by telling you about my life lately.
In fact, just this morning.
OPUS: Fly, fly, fly.
Fly, fly, fly, fly.
I almost fly. I almost fly. I almost fly. I almost did.
(CHATTERING)
(MUMBLING)
Ack!
(COUGHING)
(PURRING)
(MUMBLING)
OPUS: No cats. No cats. Especially no Bill the Cats!
Fly, fly, fly, fly, fly.
Fly, fly, fly, fly.
(SINGING)
Fly, fly, fly, fly.
Fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, fly.
(BIRDS CAWING)
OPUS: And like a thousand mornings before this one,
it was plain that a penguin can say the word fly,
but he simply cannot do it.
(BURPING)
Why don't penguins have wings that work?
This! They call this a wing?
This is a bad joke.
This is built-in obsolescence.
I'm an Edsel.
I might as well be a dung beetle.
Or a fly-infested, worm-infused,
molded, mildewed, scrap of rotten banana.
Or a network executive.
A bad day for flying, anyhoo.
No lift. Heavy ozone.
Plus too many stupid cats during the take-off roll.
Oh, got a little perspiration on your puss there, Billy-boy.
You also have a rubbish can up to your nether regions.
(EXCLAIMS)
You smell like last week's Brussels sprouts.
I suggested that you move into the recyclables can, didn't I?
OPUS: Some years ago, Father Christmas,
I rescued old Bill from the University science lab.
They replaced his brains with tater tots.
I have no need for a sidekick, sir.
But still, he'd like to be my best buddy.
But then, stinkbugs might like to dance the Watusi in my shorts, too.
I mean, you've got to draw the line somewhere.
(CRASHING)
(WOMAN SCREAMING)
(DOG BARKING)
(PIGS SQUEALING)
(COW MOOING)
WOMAN: (SINGING) I woke up this morning
My wings ain't no use
My butt down on my shoes
I got those flapless, earthbound blues
OPUS: Lately, Father Christmas,
my social life hasn't gotten much higher off the ground
than my feet.
Hey, look! I'm a bird!
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth!
(LAUGHS)
Honey, I'll be taking lunch on the moon today!
(LAUGHS)
What's the red thing on the neck?
A turbo-prop? So where's the exhaust?
(CHUCKLING) Don't answer that.
Note the mighty wings.
I suspect they sputter more than flutter.
(ALL LAUGHING)
They're obviously jealous of my nose.
Anybody would be.
(HACKING)
BOTH: Huh?
BOTH: Hairball!
Get out of the way. Don't touch it!
Hey, spread out.
Get away from that. Don't touch that thing!
(PATTERING)
OPUS: Good morning, Truffles!
TRUFFLES: Merry Christmas, Opus.
Always a pleasure to run into someone lower on the food chain.
(LAUGHS)
Did you know you have a large rutabaga on your nose?
This is my nose.
Excuse me, I'm late for my support group.
Surely, you're not persisting in your flights of fancy, huh?
(CHUCKLING) Myself,
I am perfectly comfortable with my self-image.
You would not see me trying to fly.
I hope not.
You're a pig.
Rhinoceros. Pig.
Rhinoceros.
Pig.
P-O-R-K.
You know, the other white meat.
How about a water buffalo?
They been giving out those lobotomy coupons
in the Little Friskies again?
(MUMBLING)
(OPUS SIGHING)
Well, I appreciate your support on the way to my support group.
Now wait outside and please try not to give anybody rabies.
You're late, Mr. Opus.
Everyone's waiting.
There was a rhinoceros on Second Avenue.
Uh-huh, save it.
Good afternoon, everybody.
I'd like to welcome a new member to our group.
Opus, please introduce yourself.
Hello.
My name is Opus,
and I am a flapoholic.
BOTH: Hello, Opus.
I accept that my life has become ruled
by an obsessive need for flight.
I...
GEORGE: Albatross!
Just be glad your wife didn't leave you for an albatross!
Good, George. Confront your feelings.
My puny kiwi wings weren't good enough for Dolores.
Oh, no, no.
She had to have an albatross
with great big long wings.
He was on hormones.
You heard me, read my beak.
Hormones!
Uh, maybe we shouldn't be confronting those particular feelings.
Speaking of feelings,
darned if I don't feel like a Boeing 747.
I'm cleared for take-off!
Good! Let's confront our feelings about that one!
So what if they're small?
Some women prefer small wings.
What did Dolores want, quantity or quality?
If she wants them big, marry the space shuttle, you shrew!
Space shuttle! Watch it!
Oh my, Dolores.
Oh, don't you know...
Now, we're getting somewhere.
Pull up and out of here!
(WHOOPING)
(KNOCKING AT DOOR)
GEORGE: I'd run, I'd jump...
Shake and bake, shake and bake,
shake and bake!
Excuse me.
Is this cockroach cross-dressers in crisis?
I want to talk to the Colonel!
OPUS: At this point, Father Christmas,
there was only one option for a penguin whose wings only sputter.
I was compelled to take the laws of physics into my own hands.
I became an aeronautic vigilante.
(YELLING)
(SINGING)
(THUDDING)
OPUS: Alas, Father Christmas,
my brief career as an aeronautic vigilante was over,
as was my patience.
That's it! My cup runneth over with cats.
I need cats like I need butt implants.
You still smell like Brussels sprouts.
And look at you! You have hair growing out of your eyeballs.
You lay around the house eating small rodents like ding dongs and you...
Barf on the Chinese rug.
You are the grand poobah of worthlessness
and you can't even fly.
You ruin everything!
Go! Leave!
Shoo! Shoo!
(WHIMPERING)
(MUTTERING)
OPUS: It was then, dear Santa Claus,
in the midst of my most terrible conniption,
that my salvation revealed itself to me.
You, sir. You are that.
Please, sir,
I have only one request this Christmas,
one passion, one wish.
Some penguin wings that work!
I'll be flying on Christmas morning.
I'll be flying on Christmas day.
Ho, ho, ho!
Hmm.
Turbulence.
Ho, ho, ho! Oh, no!
MAN: Good morning, Lovey.
Oh, my word, of course, yeah!
Boy, we're traveling in the wrong direction.
Wake up! We're going in the wrong direction!
Couldn't you arrange to make a little less noise?
I tell you we're going west
and Shanghai is way east of here!
Oh, quiet. Feather's the best pilot in China,
he knows what he's doing. It's Feather!
Well, he might have lost his way.
Of course! That's what I told him last night.
You can't expect a man to sail around in the dark.
All right, all right, calm yourself. I'll speak to Feather.
Feather? I say...
Bob! Bob, wake up! Something's happened!
It isn't Feather in the cockpit!
The bloke up there looks like a Chinese or a Mongolian or something.
What? What?
We don't keep the macadamia nuts up here!
Talk to the stewardess!
Got to go.
I've got a Douglas DC-3 to fly!
It's a penguin.
I can fly this thing. I can fly this thing.
Left foot, left rudder,
starboard stabilizing ailertooter.
Ailertooter?
Ailertooter. Ailertooter.
Good evening. This is the captain speaking.
If anyone knows where the starboard ailertooter is on a DC-3,
would you please press your call button now?
(SCREAMING)
I can't stand it any longer!
Take us down! I can't stand it...
Starboard ailertooter.
We're going down. Why are we going down?
We're going down because penguins can't fly.
(WOMAN SCREAMING)
(SCREAMS)
Yikes!
There.
(BANGING)
Calamity! Catastrophe!
Cataclysm! A considerable setback!
A yuletide debacle! Pure and simple!
Come with us!
No time! Help!
Okay, okay, let me just gargle.
Superfluous! Needless!
Spread out! Out! Out! Out! Out!
(ALL EXCLAIMING)
His stern!
His rudder!
Look. It's replaceable. Like a tire.
(CHUCKLING)
Look, there!
This is a fraternity prank, isn't it?
No! Look!
You're going to steal my clothes
and leave me naked outside Albuquerque.
There!
Ow. Jeez.
Hello!
Can somebody help?
We'd do it ourselves...
But ice water ain't our shtick.
(BURPING)
(EXCLAIMING)
Look!
Ho, ho, ho! Go!
Yow! That's cold!
(COUGHING)
You seem to have mislaid your hat from your head.
I would be honored to have you wear mine instead.
I see no penguins here whose wings merely sputter.
Tonight it was courage that flew yours beyond others.
Time to fly, son.
(LAUGHS) Yeah!
Boys, let's go!
Yee-ha!
(SIGHING)
Ah, thank you.
(OPUS EXCLAIMS)
Wait, wait. Stop, stop. No, no, no, no.
Wait, wait, wait.
Whoa!
Rhinoceros coming through.
(LAUGHING) Yes! Yes!
So, last night,
who exactly was it that suggested coming to me?
Hey! Billy boy! Come on.
You're falling behind, hairy-butt.
(COUGHING)
(WHEEZING)
I'm flying for you, too!
Bill, it's wonderful up here!
(MUMBLING)
(LAUGHING)
I'm flying!
Unauthorized take-off! Unauthorized take-off!
Pull up! Pull up! Pull up!
Don't suck a duck into your turbines.
An albatross!
Suck up an albatross!
Yeah!
This is totally unnatural.
Excuse me. But I simply must fly.
(SINGING)
Don't get cocky!