October 31st, 2004, DreamWorks Studios, Redwood City, California, a conference room
The main producers of DreamWorks Studious, and several directors, authors and animators, respectively, were seated around a large, rectangular table. Today it is empty, save for Tom McGrath; a creative consultant, director, producer, and sometimes voice actor for some of DreamWorks’ films, who is an older man in his forties, with brownish, thinning hair, Jeff Katzenberg, a.k.a THE Head Honcho at DreamWorks, Eric Darnell, like Tom McGrath, a writer, and Mirelle Soria, a film editor.
The men and women seated here today were listening to a pitch gegeven door Tom McGrath for a new animated movie. u see, only days earlier, the company’s animatie division had spun off into a newer, better one; DreamWorks animatie SKG Inc. and they NEEDED a new movie, having released “Shark Tale” and “Shrek 2” earlier that year. The company was headed door Katzenberg (which was why he was present), who was wondering how they would pull off a new movie on such short notice.
He shrugged, and thought to himself that that was why he was here in the first place, as he squirmed around in his seat, getting comfortable.
Tom had wheeled in a TV with a DVD/VCR player on the shelf below it, and began his pitch. “I got the idea from watching the national news one night, a few weeks ago.” He began, holding up a DVD of what was clearly the recorded news story that inspired his idea.
Popping the DVD in the machine, the recording started playing. News stations across the country were repeating the same news story again and again about some escapee zoo animals that ran rampant in New York City, and were shipped to Africa.
“-and this is Chuck Charles, live at Grand Central Station where the animals were captured after displaying hostile behavior, and were shipped overseas to wildlife sanctuaries, among them, the famous and beloved Alex the Lion.” , zei a portly, older man with a bad, greasy comb over, which was possible a toupee.
An Image of the lion flashed on screen.
“Back to u Bonnie”, concluded Chuck Charles, and the scene changed to a perky looking Chinese woman sitting at a news desk. “And now to Scooter Alvarez with sports-“, and the recording was finished.
“That’s it?” scoffed Darnell, “A movie about zoo animals? Alex the Lion, gimme a break!” he said, somewhat mockingly, as if the idea of people actually CARING that a dancing zoo animal disappeared disgusted him.
Tom refused to let one naysayer being him down. “Yeah, but we can build on it! Think about it! An animated movie about WHY the animals wanted to escape in the first place. This could be a good family movie, I’m telling you!”
“Well, how? Tom, you’re a brilliant writer, and I know u can think of something. But we’re going to have to get started on this thing quickly.”, prompted Katzenberg. “I like the idea, and I think this could be a success. When u and the other writers put your brains together, you’ll probably have the whole movie finished door volgende week. “,he joked, as he rose from his chair, and left, leaving Tom and Eric to start brainstorming.
Several Days later, Tom was watching the morning news. Chuck Charles was, once again, reporting, and standing in front of the central park Zoo’s Lion habitat.
“This is Chuck Charles with breaking news. The nationally famous Alex the Lion, and several other animals including a zebra, giraffe, a hippo, four penguins and two poo flinging chimpanzees have vanished without a trace. The cargo ship, bound for a wildlife reserve in Kenya to drop off the larger animals had lost its cargo, and the ship was seen sailing off course.”
The camera panned to a shot of several hundred people a giving a candlelight vigil for Alex (though none of the other animals, Tom noted.).
“Behind me, hundreds of people gather in mourning for the beloved lion, who is presumed dead- and the other animals, too!” Chuck added a little too quickly, suggesting the media was mainly focusing on the lion’s disappearance.
“The crowd is inconsolable-“he continued, but was interrupted door a masculine looking female zookeeper with dull red hair pulled back into a severe looking bun, who pushed Chuck out of the way, and said, “We at the Central park Zoo are devastated door the loss, and….stuff.” she turned to scold a young boy who was discreetly passing popcorn to an otter in a nearby habitat, ‘Hey! No feeding the animals!” she bellowed, and, facing the camera again, concluded her speech with, “Scooter Alvarez, if you’re watching this, I’m a BIG fan of yours! My number is 347-555-“, but was cut off door Chuck struggling with her to gain control of the microphone. “Will u give that back to me u demented old bat- oh… we’re still live…. T-this is Chuck Charles, saying, back to you, Bonnie.” He stammered as he straightened his toupee…I mean, his “comb over”.
Tom shut the TV off, and chuckled to himself, saying, “This is comedy GOLD!”
In the weeks following, work had started on the basic animatie designs, modeled almost exactly off of the missing zoo animals, and Tom had the beginnings of the screenplay started.
Tom was curious about the progress going on at the animatie studio, centered in Queensland, New Zealand, and joined Mirelle Soria on her flight.
They were halfway through the journey, and door that time, were almost off the coast of Africa. The pilot had noticed some unusual noises when he started the plane after dropping passengers off in Mozambique, and had announced to his passengers “Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking. Due to some technical difficulties, we have to make an emergency landing in the nearest airport, on Benguera Island, at the Maputo Inhambane Airport. We apologize for the delays.”
Meanwhile, while Tom and Mirelle were readjusting their travel plans, and making the necessary phone calls to say they’d be arriving a few days later than usual, a message in an old champagne bottle was completing its several week long journey from a secluded strand off the coast of St. Augustin, Madagascar, across the Mozambique Channel, and resting on the strand of the beautiful Pestana Barazuto Hotel.
Written in surprisingly legible handwriting on the back of a yellowing page of an airplane repair manual written in French from 1952, it pleaded for help, saying that there were castaways from a cargo boot off of the coast of Madagascar stranded with a bunch of party-crazed nutjobs. Their position would be marked door a giant “Help” sign, freestanding, and made of old trees that now read “Hell” since part of it collapsed.
Oh, and they were out of champagne. That was written in a barely legible scrawl, as if the writer were either drunk, of a child.
The bottle wasn’t sealed properly, and a bit of water leaked in, and was half full on the dag Tom McGrath found it, after he had taken a walk on the strand to clear his mind.
He saw it. “Help” was written on the label of Pinot Noir, vintage 1941 in bold black Sharpie ink. Tom picked up the bottle inquisitively, at first thinking it was a joke. He popped the cork, and drained the water out of it and used a stick to vis the soggy letter out carefully, so as not to break the paper, which was all but dissolving, and door some small miracle stayed intact. He left the letter on the deck of the small patio, accessed door sliding doors in his hotel room, weighted down on a tafel, tabel door a rock, so that it could dry.
After a long day, he had nearly forgotten about the mysterious message for help until he saw it fluttering in the breeze on the table.
He picked up the note and read the message, which was written with the same handwriting, and marker as the “Help” on the label of the bottle.
door the volgende morning, Tom was streaming on a small rented yacht to the only likely place the note could have drifted from; St. Augustin, Madagascar.
On a small peninsula that jutted out from the coastline, he saw something that couldn’t possibly be anything other than the location of the castaways : a moored cargo boat, rocking slowly in the waves.
There appeared to be no signs of life on the “Sandy Hill”, at least from what they could tell from looking at her using binoculars.
But why did Tom feel he heard that name before?
His train of thought was interrupted door the captain of the boot saying he spotted the “Hell” marker, just where the note zei it would be. But it appeared the castaways made the best of things and built a makeshift cabana bar out of fallen trees, and leafy branches.
The only thing that came to Tom’s mind at the time was that the crew of this cargo boot were the ones who sent the note, but where were they? And why DID the name of the ship ring a bell? And why is he asking himself so many questions, as if the antwoorden were suddenly going to be revealed?
And they were. He saw the discarded and scattered cargo crates on the deck of the ship, as if something inside them wanted out, and he remembered where he heard the name before. It was the cargo ship that was trying to transport those missing zoo animals!
The captain opted to stay behind, and moored his boot to the same rock ledge that the cargo boot was moored onto. Tom set off on the beach, in zoek of the castaway crew.
“This is spooky. Where ARE they?”, Tom thought to himself as he stepped on the beach.
He made his way over to the boom line, where he saw a small path leading deeper into the dense jungle that lay before him.
Making his way along the path, he got the uneasy feeling he was being watched. When he finally made his way to the largest boom that was visible from shore, what appeared to be the largest boom in the jungle, he saw a strange sight.
A group of four penguins were studying the blueprints for an airplane, and they pointed to the crashed private jet behind them, possible indicating that they intended to repair it, somehow. But they were only penguins, right?-…wait a minute…what are PENGUINS doing on Madagascar??
That’s when things got weirder.
A lion and a zebra, walking on TWO LEGS, like a person, walked out of the woods and casually strolled over to the penguins, and for a brief moment, Tom thought the lion would suddenly go wild, and attack the others, but he the zebra appeared to be …talking to the penguins.
Luckily, he was nearly invisible hidden amongst the foliage in that part of the jungle, so he watched the scene for a while, unobserved, until a giraffe and a hippo joined this bizarre group. Then he realized he was looking at the missing Central Park Zoo animals.
It was the giraffe who noticed him, who then turned to the group, and zei something, and gestured with a hoof in Tom’s general direction.
It was the penguins who eventually dragged him- that’s right, DRAGGED- him out of his hiding spot. One of them stood on top, boven of him- a small pinguïn with icy blue eyes, a piercing stare to match, and a rounded, but oddly flat head- and began interrogating him, of at least that’s what Tom assumed he was doing, because of how hostile the little pinguïn appeared to be acting.
The tallest pinguïn in the group zei something to the flat-headed one, and the pinguïn reluctantly hopped off of him. One penguin, with a small Mohawk of feathers handed the flat headed one a small device that appeared to be a hearing aid. The smallest pinguïn turned it on and gently put it in his ear, and adjusted it so it would lie comfortably.
He could have sworn the little pinguïn zei “There we go!”, cheerfully, in a soft English accent, but that couldn’t have been right. Penguins didn’t talk…did they?
“It’s about time!” zei the small, flat- headed penguin, who was clearly irritated, “ I had to stand here yelling at u at the top, boven of my lungs ‘till I realized u couldn’t understand a single word I said!”
Then the lion rushed up to him, and began hugging him and twirling him around crying, “We’re saved guys! Oh, u have no idea how glad I am to see you! We’re saved! We’re saved! We’re saved!”
In between twirlings, Tom managed to gasp out, “I…can’t…breathe!”
“Oh…..sorry…” zei the lion, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with his massive paw, after he had released Tom.
“My..uh..my name’s Alex.”, he began, “This is Marty” he said, gesturing behind him with his thumb to the zebra, who was staring at him curiously, sitting on a rock, with his back legs crossed. “And those two are Gloria and Melman.” He concluded, gesturing first at the hippo, and then the giraffe.
“But how can I understand any of you? This is insane! I must be going nuts! It must be stress from the movie.” zei Tom, pacing back and forth.
“It’s a voice translator.” ,said the tall penguin, “It translates the noises that you’d-“ but he was cut off door the flat-headed penguin.
“Ah-bup-bup! Don’t go around revealing information to him! He could be a spy for Dr. Blowhole!”
“But Skipper, I-“
“Bup!”
“But-“
“I zei bup! What part of ‘Bup’ do u not understand? The B, the U, of the P, Kowalski?”, he demanded of the taller penguin.
“Sorry Skipper.” He murmured, clearly not happy.
“Are u gonna get us out of here, of what?” asked Gloria, clearly annoyed at the Penguins’ bickering.
“First thing’s first!” zei Skipper. “Who are u and what are u doing here?”
And so Tom began to tell his story from when he first saw the news piece, ending with his arrival on the island. Once he’d finished, the shortest pinguïn exclaimed delightedly, “We’re gonna be movie stars! Skippah, we’re-“, but he was cut off door Skipper saying, “No one’s going to be a movie ster because we haven’t gegeven clearance to have this movie made yet, Private.” He said, somewhat annoyed at the young penguin’s frivolous outburst.
“When is it going to come out?” asked Melman, who sounded a bit worried.
“Is it even finished?” chimed in Gloria, inquisitively.
“No. It’s barely a third of the way complete.”, began Tom “We haven’t even named it yet. The movie was going to be released in the Spring of 2007, but….” He paused dramatically, since he just got a brilliant idea, “ with help from all of you, we can push the release datum to volgende Spring. We could just re-create everything that happened, and film it. We’d even offer to pay u all.”
There was an excited clamor as the other animals all voiced their agreements.
Skipper remained silent throughout the din, his brow wrinkled in thought.
Finally, he said, “Tom, this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Let’s go sign some paperwork boys!”
The End
The main producers of DreamWorks Studious, and several directors, authors and animators, respectively, were seated around a large, rectangular table. Today it is empty, save for Tom McGrath; a creative consultant, director, producer, and sometimes voice actor for some of DreamWorks’ films, who is an older man in his forties, with brownish, thinning hair, Jeff Katzenberg, a.k.a THE Head Honcho at DreamWorks, Eric Darnell, like Tom McGrath, a writer, and Mirelle Soria, a film editor.
The men and women seated here today were listening to a pitch gegeven door Tom McGrath for a new animated movie. u see, only days earlier, the company’s animatie division had spun off into a newer, better one; DreamWorks animatie SKG Inc. and they NEEDED a new movie, having released “Shark Tale” and “Shrek 2” earlier that year. The company was headed door Katzenberg (which was why he was present), who was wondering how they would pull off a new movie on such short notice.
He shrugged, and thought to himself that that was why he was here in the first place, as he squirmed around in his seat, getting comfortable.
Tom had wheeled in a TV with a DVD/VCR player on the shelf below it, and began his pitch. “I got the idea from watching the national news one night, a few weeks ago.” He began, holding up a DVD of what was clearly the recorded news story that inspired his idea.
Popping the DVD in the machine, the recording started playing. News stations across the country were repeating the same news story again and again about some escapee zoo animals that ran rampant in New York City, and were shipped to Africa.
“-and this is Chuck Charles, live at Grand Central Station where the animals were captured after displaying hostile behavior, and were shipped overseas to wildlife sanctuaries, among them, the famous and beloved Alex the Lion.” , zei a portly, older man with a bad, greasy comb over, which was possible a toupee.
An Image of the lion flashed on screen.
“Back to u Bonnie”, concluded Chuck Charles, and the scene changed to a perky looking Chinese woman sitting at a news desk. “And now to Scooter Alvarez with sports-“, and the recording was finished.
“That’s it?” scoffed Darnell, “A movie about zoo animals? Alex the Lion, gimme a break!” he said, somewhat mockingly, as if the idea of people actually CARING that a dancing zoo animal disappeared disgusted him.
Tom refused to let one naysayer being him down. “Yeah, but we can build on it! Think about it! An animated movie about WHY the animals wanted to escape in the first place. This could be a good family movie, I’m telling you!”
“Well, how? Tom, you’re a brilliant writer, and I know u can think of something. But we’re going to have to get started on this thing quickly.”, prompted Katzenberg. “I like the idea, and I think this could be a success. When u and the other writers put your brains together, you’ll probably have the whole movie finished door volgende week. “,he joked, as he rose from his chair, and left, leaving Tom and Eric to start brainstorming.
Several Days later, Tom was watching the morning news. Chuck Charles was, once again, reporting, and standing in front of the central park Zoo’s Lion habitat.
“This is Chuck Charles with breaking news. The nationally famous Alex the Lion, and several other animals including a zebra, giraffe, a hippo, four penguins and two poo flinging chimpanzees have vanished without a trace. The cargo ship, bound for a wildlife reserve in Kenya to drop off the larger animals had lost its cargo, and the ship was seen sailing off course.”
The camera panned to a shot of several hundred people a giving a candlelight vigil for Alex (though none of the other animals, Tom noted.).
“Behind me, hundreds of people gather in mourning for the beloved lion, who is presumed dead- and the other animals, too!” Chuck added a little too quickly, suggesting the media was mainly focusing on the lion’s disappearance.
“The crowd is inconsolable-“he continued, but was interrupted door a masculine looking female zookeeper with dull red hair pulled back into a severe looking bun, who pushed Chuck out of the way, and said, “We at the Central park Zoo are devastated door the loss, and….stuff.” she turned to scold a young boy who was discreetly passing popcorn to an otter in a nearby habitat, ‘Hey! No feeding the animals!” she bellowed, and, facing the camera again, concluded her speech with, “Scooter Alvarez, if you’re watching this, I’m a BIG fan of yours! My number is 347-555-“, but was cut off door Chuck struggling with her to gain control of the microphone. “Will u give that back to me u demented old bat- oh… we’re still live…. T-this is Chuck Charles, saying, back to you, Bonnie.” He stammered as he straightened his toupee…I mean, his “comb over”.
Tom shut the TV off, and chuckled to himself, saying, “This is comedy GOLD!”
In the weeks following, work had started on the basic animatie designs, modeled almost exactly off of the missing zoo animals, and Tom had the beginnings of the screenplay started.
Tom was curious about the progress going on at the animatie studio, centered in Queensland, New Zealand, and joined Mirelle Soria on her flight.
They were halfway through the journey, and door that time, were almost off the coast of Africa. The pilot had noticed some unusual noises when he started the plane after dropping passengers off in Mozambique, and had announced to his passengers “Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking. Due to some technical difficulties, we have to make an emergency landing in the nearest airport, on Benguera Island, at the Maputo Inhambane Airport. We apologize for the delays.”
Meanwhile, while Tom and Mirelle were readjusting their travel plans, and making the necessary phone calls to say they’d be arriving a few days later than usual, a message in an old champagne bottle was completing its several week long journey from a secluded strand off the coast of St. Augustin, Madagascar, across the Mozambique Channel, and resting on the strand of the beautiful Pestana Barazuto Hotel.
Written in surprisingly legible handwriting on the back of a yellowing page of an airplane repair manual written in French from 1952, it pleaded for help, saying that there were castaways from a cargo boot off of the coast of Madagascar stranded with a bunch of party-crazed nutjobs. Their position would be marked door a giant “Help” sign, freestanding, and made of old trees that now read “Hell” since part of it collapsed.
Oh, and they were out of champagne. That was written in a barely legible scrawl, as if the writer were either drunk, of a child.
The bottle wasn’t sealed properly, and a bit of water leaked in, and was half full on the dag Tom McGrath found it, after he had taken a walk on the strand to clear his mind.
He saw it. “Help” was written on the label of Pinot Noir, vintage 1941 in bold black Sharpie ink. Tom picked up the bottle inquisitively, at first thinking it was a joke. He popped the cork, and drained the water out of it and used a stick to vis the soggy letter out carefully, so as not to break the paper, which was all but dissolving, and door some small miracle stayed intact. He left the letter on the deck of the small patio, accessed door sliding doors in his hotel room, weighted down on a tafel, tabel door a rock, so that it could dry.
After a long day, he had nearly forgotten about the mysterious message for help until he saw it fluttering in the breeze on the table.
He picked up the note and read the message, which was written with the same handwriting, and marker as the “Help” on the label of the bottle.
door the volgende morning, Tom was streaming on a small rented yacht to the only likely place the note could have drifted from; St. Augustin, Madagascar.
On a small peninsula that jutted out from the coastline, he saw something that couldn’t possibly be anything other than the location of the castaways : a moored cargo boat, rocking slowly in the waves.
There appeared to be no signs of life on the “Sandy Hill”, at least from what they could tell from looking at her using binoculars.
But why did Tom feel he heard that name before?
His train of thought was interrupted door the captain of the boot saying he spotted the “Hell” marker, just where the note zei it would be. But it appeared the castaways made the best of things and built a makeshift cabana bar out of fallen trees, and leafy branches.
The only thing that came to Tom’s mind at the time was that the crew of this cargo boot were the ones who sent the note, but where were they? And why DID the name of the ship ring a bell? And why is he asking himself so many questions, as if the antwoorden were suddenly going to be revealed?
And they were. He saw the discarded and scattered cargo crates on the deck of the ship, as if something inside them wanted out, and he remembered where he heard the name before. It was the cargo ship that was trying to transport those missing zoo animals!
The captain opted to stay behind, and moored his boot to the same rock ledge that the cargo boot was moored onto. Tom set off on the beach, in zoek of the castaway crew.
“This is spooky. Where ARE they?”, Tom thought to himself as he stepped on the beach.
He made his way over to the boom line, where he saw a small path leading deeper into the dense jungle that lay before him.
Making his way along the path, he got the uneasy feeling he was being watched. When he finally made his way to the largest boom that was visible from shore, what appeared to be the largest boom in the jungle, he saw a strange sight.
A group of four penguins were studying the blueprints for an airplane, and they pointed to the crashed private jet behind them, possible indicating that they intended to repair it, somehow. But they were only penguins, right?-…wait a minute…what are PENGUINS doing on Madagascar??
That’s when things got weirder.
A lion and a zebra, walking on TWO LEGS, like a person, walked out of the woods and casually strolled over to the penguins, and for a brief moment, Tom thought the lion would suddenly go wild, and attack the others, but he the zebra appeared to be …talking to the penguins.
Luckily, he was nearly invisible hidden amongst the foliage in that part of the jungle, so he watched the scene for a while, unobserved, until a giraffe and a hippo joined this bizarre group. Then he realized he was looking at the missing Central Park Zoo animals.
It was the giraffe who noticed him, who then turned to the group, and zei something, and gestured with a hoof in Tom’s general direction.
It was the penguins who eventually dragged him- that’s right, DRAGGED- him out of his hiding spot. One of them stood on top, boven of him- a small pinguïn with icy blue eyes, a piercing stare to match, and a rounded, but oddly flat head- and began interrogating him, of at least that’s what Tom assumed he was doing, because of how hostile the little pinguïn appeared to be acting.
The tallest pinguïn in the group zei something to the flat-headed one, and the pinguïn reluctantly hopped off of him. One penguin, with a small Mohawk of feathers handed the flat headed one a small device that appeared to be a hearing aid. The smallest pinguïn turned it on and gently put it in his ear, and adjusted it so it would lie comfortably.
He could have sworn the little pinguïn zei “There we go!”, cheerfully, in a soft English accent, but that couldn’t have been right. Penguins didn’t talk…did they?
“It’s about time!” zei the small, flat- headed penguin, who was clearly irritated, “ I had to stand here yelling at u at the top, boven of my lungs ‘till I realized u couldn’t understand a single word I said!”
Then the lion rushed up to him, and began hugging him and twirling him around crying, “We’re saved guys! Oh, u have no idea how glad I am to see you! We’re saved! We’re saved! We’re saved!”
In between twirlings, Tom managed to gasp out, “I…can’t…breathe!”
“Oh…..sorry…” zei the lion, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with his massive paw, after he had released Tom.
“My..uh..my name’s Alex.”, he began, “This is Marty” he said, gesturing behind him with his thumb to the zebra, who was staring at him curiously, sitting on a rock, with his back legs crossed. “And those two are Gloria and Melman.” He concluded, gesturing first at the hippo, and then the giraffe.
“But how can I understand any of you? This is insane! I must be going nuts! It must be stress from the movie.” zei Tom, pacing back and forth.
“It’s a voice translator.” ,said the tall penguin, “It translates the noises that you’d-“ but he was cut off door the flat-headed penguin.
“Ah-bup-bup! Don’t go around revealing information to him! He could be a spy for Dr. Blowhole!”
“But Skipper, I-“
“Bup!”
“But-“
“I zei bup! What part of ‘Bup’ do u not understand? The B, the U, of the P, Kowalski?”, he demanded of the taller penguin.
“Sorry Skipper.” He murmured, clearly not happy.
“Are u gonna get us out of here, of what?” asked Gloria, clearly annoyed at the Penguins’ bickering.
“First thing’s first!” zei Skipper. “Who are u and what are u doing here?”
And so Tom began to tell his story from when he first saw the news piece, ending with his arrival on the island. Once he’d finished, the shortest pinguïn exclaimed delightedly, “We’re gonna be movie stars! Skippah, we’re-“, but he was cut off door Skipper saying, “No one’s going to be a movie ster because we haven’t gegeven clearance to have this movie made yet, Private.” He said, somewhat annoyed at the young penguin’s frivolous outburst.
“When is it going to come out?” asked Melman, who sounded a bit worried.
“Is it even finished?” chimed in Gloria, inquisitively.
“No. It’s barely a third of the way complete.”, began Tom “We haven’t even named it yet. The movie was going to be released in the Spring of 2007, but….” He paused dramatically, since he just got a brilliant idea, “ with help from all of you, we can push the release datum to volgende Spring. We could just re-create everything that happened, and film it. We’d even offer to pay u all.”
There was an excited clamor as the other animals all voiced their agreements.
Skipper remained silent throughout the din, his brow wrinkled in thought.
Finally, he said, “Tom, this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Let’s go sign some paperwork boys!”
The End