Merry Madagascar
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Trungk18 |
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Goodbyes can be bittersweet. |
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It seems like only 306 days ago, |
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we were snatched from our |
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and dumped here in... rustic Madagascar. |
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But now that we're leaving, |
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it reminds us just how |
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That's the greatest speech I've ever...! |
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Looks like the kid can't |
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-Well, at least he showed up. |
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It's not like Julien to miss a party. |
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Maybe for some people, |
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Yeah, well, send him a postcard |
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Let's do this! |
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Can I have your attention? The redeye |
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We're going home for Christmas! |
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-Sandbags! |
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-Ropes! |
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-Snacks! |
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-It's working! |
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It may not be pretty, |
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Candied yams from Sylvia's! |
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I can't wait to get back to my hippo |
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And I can't wait to see Dr. Maneesh, |
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Me? I just wanna see the snow |
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New York, here we come! What the...? |
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Look out! |
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Oh, no, no! No! This isn't happening! |
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Get off me! Get off me! |
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Guys, did you hear something? |
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-Cannibals! |
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-Julien! |
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Maurice, I thought they left already. |
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I hope we're still charging them rent. |
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-Mort, stop drumming already! |
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False alarm, everyone! Back into |
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Hoax?! What kind of |
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Sorry. We thought you were |
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The Marauding Red... What-nin? |
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Maurice... |
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Every year, on the 24th of Julianuary... |
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-Julianuary? |
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-named after His Majesty. |
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Then the air fills with the goblin's |
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Then it pelts us with |
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Red Night Goblin! |
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OK, I get it. It's |
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Very funny. |
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You can stop now, Mort. |
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The Red Goblin! |
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-He's real! |
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-Here, Julien. |
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Load the shooting thingy! |
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Lemurs down! You, you, |
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Aye, aye. |
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That's it! I surrender! |
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We're gonna die! |
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-Alex, do something! |
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You're going down, Red Night |
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I did it, everybody! |
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I did it! |
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Everyone, after the Goblin. |
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-Candy canes? |
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-These rocks taste like coal. |
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Alex, I think you just shot down... |
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Who's laughing now, Red Night Goblin? |
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I am. That's who. |
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Merry Madagascar! |
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-I shot down Santa. |
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-Is it safe? |
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Are there more of you? How many? |
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Maybe you have an army hidden inside |
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-I am talking to you! |
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Look, everybody! It shakes |
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-Hey, this is fun! |
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-No wonder he throws coal at you. |
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Santa! Santa, you OK? I can't |
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-I know. |
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What do you mean, "Who's Santa"? |
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My name is... |
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I can't remember. |
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Look, he's got another hat on. |
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He must have hit his head in |
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Oh, this is bad. This is... |
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I've ruined Christmas for everybody. |
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the whole world! Unless... |
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-Unless? |
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This could work out great for everybody. |
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-Santa's head wound? |
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Here's the plan: we find the sleigh, |
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Then, on the way home, he |
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It's perfect! What do you guys think? |
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-I'm in! |
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Let's go find that sleigh. |
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They are just adorable! Alex, |
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Hello, there, little reindeer. |
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You guys up for a little |
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Back away! You don't know |
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Hey, no need to get psycho. |
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-We meet again, South Polers. |
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OK, you guys know each other? |
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It's a cold war that |
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You see, Santa used to be |
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This again? Santa chose |
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Please. They bribed him with |
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That's it! Let's go! |
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On my command, kick him in the bells. |
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Wait, where's Private? |
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You're the most beautiful |
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That's the sweetest thing any |
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Shake it off, Private! That North Poler |
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but she'll spit you out |
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Guys, guys. Come on, it's Christmas. |
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So, what do you say? |
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Son of the gun, we're only allowed |
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Why don't you ask your |
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I forget! They can't fly. |
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Merry Christmas down there, |
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-Merry Christmas. |
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Great. There goes our lift home. |
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-We'll fly it. |
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And those reindeer have, |
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That's exactly what they |
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Private, give 'em a little demo. |
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The only thing magical |
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is that tank full of sparkly stuff. |
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Now, go find Big Red and |
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Fat man, behold the beauty of |
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honoring... me. |
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-I like to... |
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-You like to... |
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We like to... |
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Move it! |
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I like to move it, move it |
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Santa? |
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I'm physically fit, physically fit |
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Incoming! |
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Alrighty, Santa. Time to big, big buddy. |
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I don't wanna go! |
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I just wanna shake my booty! |
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-Santa, buddy. You gotta stop dancing. |
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I'll never go! |
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-What are we gonna do now? |
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for much longer. So either |
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-or the world goes without Christmas. |
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You made this mess. Now, |
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-Yo, Skipper! Sparkle time! |
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Tighten your harnesses |
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Viva Las Vegas! |
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And everyone wept tears of joy for |
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You see, fat man, Julianuary |
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To me! Now, bring me the presents! |
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Merry Julianuary. |
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You remembered! Next one, |
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Thank you, on behalf of His |
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Thank you, on behalf of His |
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-How did you do that? |
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-Could you make one for me? |
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-I want one. |
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Next. |
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Where's my presents? |
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What's going on over there? |
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Merry Julianuary! |
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-Merry Julianuary. |
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-Merry Julianuary. |
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Stop! |
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What's so special about Julianuary |
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You! |
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I took you in as my guest, |
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and now, you've ruined Julianuary! |
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From this moment forth, |
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all your presents are my presents! |
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Lady and gentlemen, we are about |
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Canada is straight ahead. |
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OK, boys, let's take her down. |
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Flaps up. |
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Beaks down. Stay on target. |
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Stay on target! |
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What kind of landing was that? |
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Any landing you can walk |
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This is stupid, Marty. Can't |
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Come on. How hard can it be? |
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-But I'm claustrophobic. |
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Now, you can be Santa Claustrophobic. |
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Now, dive, fool, dive, dive, dive! |
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Easy... |
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Guys? I'm stuck! |
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Hang in there, Melman! I'm coming! |
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-Melman, I'm right here! |
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-You're not burning! |
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Thank you. |
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Don't leave me! |
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Alex, you still have the present! |
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Dash away, boys. Dash away! |
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-What...? No, wait! |
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I got you, Melman! |
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Way to drop the ball, you hippie freak. |
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Me? Melman lost it in the chimney. |
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Calm down. It's a small town, |
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-Let's not freak out. |
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Can we freak out now?! |
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OK, here's the plan. |
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We head to the nearest post office |
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-That's a plan. |
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Skipper, get us to |
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In New York. |
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Well, looks like our coffee break. |
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Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! |
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This is amazing! You're |
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But amazing! OK, calm |
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Namaste. Namaste. |
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Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! |
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Merry Christmas! |
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Oh, my gosh! I almost forgot! |
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I made you cookies. |
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This is the best Christmas ever. |
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Don't tell Santa I was up. Really. |
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OK, I'm going to bed now. |
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I can't go to sleep. No way I can go |
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I think, I broke my collarbone. |
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No! It's OK. Going to bed now. |
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Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! |
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New plan. We're not going |
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We're Santa's hairy helpers. |
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And we don't rest until every one |
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Skipper, progress report. |
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Only 152 cities left to go. |
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Skipper, look! |
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-New York! |
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-It's still beautiful! |
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when we're done! |
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All right, New York, let's do this! |
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On the 88th day of Julianuary, |
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my true love sent to me, |
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a great, big present for me, |
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Oh, Amelia. Did you ever feel |
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This is the worst Julianuary ever. |
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-King Julien? |
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Haven't you heard of knocking? |
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I'm sorry if I ruined your Julianuary. |
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I don't understand. |
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I have all the presents. |
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I don't know. But back there, |
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when we were all giving |
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it was pretty good. |
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Hey! Why don't you give one to |
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-I bet she'd like it. |
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I don't want to. OK, fine, I'll do it! |
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Here, Amelia. Merry Julianuary. |
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Look at the smile on Amelia. |
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Making her feel good, |
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Kind of warm and tingly |
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Like pinworms! Come, fat man! |
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We must share with the world |
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We did it. |
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Every single present delivered |
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Goodbye, empty bags. Hello, New... |
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No! There's still a few |
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No. No! No more! I can't take it. |
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I'll throw it in the river. |
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Give me that. |
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Wait, they're... they're for us. |
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-What? |
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-Really? |
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-Get out of here. |
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No way! Candied yams from Sylvia's! |
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And they're still hot! |
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An inflatable hippo pool? |
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Oh, yeah. That's the stuff. |
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Dr. Maneesh's neck massager! |
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-What'd you get, Alex? |
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on my beautiful city. |
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That's why Santa's Santa. |
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We can't leave him back there dancing |
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-We gotta go back and help him. |
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sparkly stuff to get us |
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-Is there bad news? |
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Put it back! |
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So it's Madagascar or... home? |
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There she is, fellas! |
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Maybe next Christmas, New York. |
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This is the life. |
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It says, "To Mort. Happy Julianuary. |
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Love, King Julien." |
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A coconut! Thank you, King Julien! |
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OK, boys, let's take her down. |
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We just lost one of our engines! |
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I thought you said there was enough |
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-I did. |
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I was wrong! |
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Red Night Goblin! |
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Come on, Private. Think happy |
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The Red Night Goblin's attacking again! |
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Brace for impact! |
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Oh, no. |
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He's alive! |
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Where am I? The children. The presents! |
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-He got his memory back. |
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The South Polers stole |
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-Now, Christmas is ruined! |
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That's an outright Christmas |
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Yeah, Christmas isn't ruined. |
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it's the truth. Santa, |
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Cupid, stay out of this! |
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I grow tired of your reindeer games. |
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We want to be... bipolar. |
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Son of the gun. |
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-So you really delivered all the gifts? |
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And you even found Liechtenstein? |
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Liechety-what? |
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Oh, chestnuts! Those children |
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-This way, Santa. |
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I'll use the reserve tank then. |
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-Oh, reserve tank. |
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-My friends and I... |
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-Santa, wait! |
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and you're not with Santa, |
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-Farewell, Private. |
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-Santa! |
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And Julien, you're officially |
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What? You can't take me |
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I am the naughty list! |
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What's the naughty list? |
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Merry Christmas! |
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Well, looks like Santa's |
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And we're back in Madagascar. |
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And you know what? We're gonna |
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Right here! |
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This'll get me back on the naughty |
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All right, let's give |
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I can't stop! I can't stop! |
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Rockefeller Center ain't |
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Well, we may not have |
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but we got snow! |
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I wouldn't do that if I were you. |
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-It's not snow! It's not snow! |
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-It's what you give. |
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I'm so naughty. Mort, you're next! |
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Alex, you OK? |
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Who's Alex? |
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Merry Christmas and happy |