A Wish for Wings That Work (1991) Movie Script
(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.
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,
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.
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!
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.
Starboard ailertooter.
We're going down.
Why are we 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!
(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.
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,
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.
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!
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.
Starboard ailertooter.
We're going down.
Why are we 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!