Penguin Town (2021) s01e02 Episode Script
The Nest Generation
[ominous music playing]
[penguin braying]
[penguin braying]
[penguins braying]
[narrator] Being abducted by aliens…
is a terrifying experience.
But Junior has no idea
how close he was to death.
[braying]
That he's even endangered.
[man talking indistinctly]
Or that these giants
aren't breading him for dinner.
They're trying to save his life.
[opening theme song playing]
Yeah! ♪
Yeah, yeah ♪
Till my breath's all gone
I'll be pushing on so strong ♪
I'll keep pushing on ♪
Till the river runs dry
I've got to try, try, try ♪
I keep pushing on ♪
When my soul's burnt through
I won't be feeling blue ♪
I'll keep pushing on ♪
Till my dying day
I won't give it all away ♪
I keep pushing on ♪
[birds squawking]
Yeah! ♪
[penguins braying]
[narrator] Summer and the six-month
penguin breeding season
is well underway in South Africa.
[whimsical music playing]
A thousand monogamous penguin couples…
with one agenda.
To mate their way
off the endangered species list.
[braying]
Oh! Please, carry on, you two.
Your… colony needs you.
[braying continues]
Good work.
On the south side of Penguin Town,
the Bougainvilleas' efforts
have already borne fruit.
Brand-new eggs.
Fragile.
Precious.
Roundish.
After several seasons together,
these two know their way around an egg.
And they're all about teamwork.
The eggs need protecting, 24/7.
But the parents still gotta eat.
So, divide and conquer.
Today is Dad's turn to fish.
Mr. Bougainvillea's on a schedule.
No time for the scenic route.
Even though the quickest path…
runs through a sketchy neighborhood.
[suspenseful music playing]
This car park…
is gang territory.
Mr. B's grumpy, single neighbor…
found backup.
They've claimed
this shortcut as their own…
[braying]
…and none shall pass.
It's better not to engage.
Just don't make eye contact.
And stay out of reach.
Another shady character
watches Mr. B leave.
This Cape mongoose…
has been casing
the Bougainvilleas' hedge
for days.
[ominous music playing]
Known egg poacher,
and suspected chick murderer.
He's not a threat to Mrs. B,
but he'd kill for an omelet.
Mom holds her ground.
She can't risk exposing the eggs.
[brays]
[penguin braying]
Lucky for Mrs. Bougainvillea…
her nest is not the only one in the hedge.
This egg?
Abandoned, after failing to hatch.
Maybe it's unfertilized,
or was damaged, and died.
Only half of all penguin eggs ever hatch.
Mrs. B dodged the season's first bullet.
Good job, Mom.
Bad eggs can make good neighbors.
[indistinct chatter and laughter]
On the beachfront…
the newlywed Culverts
put the finishing touches
on their very first nest.
Eggs could come any minute.
But something
less welcome is also on the way.
A waddle of full-bellied commuters,
eager to relieve their partners.
Their quickest way home?
Up the steps…
past the gate,
and then a shortcut…
just through this nice, smooth…
culvert.
[braying]
Bummer.
The Culverts' dream home…
is a rush-hour bottleneck.
[braying continues]
Mr. and Mrs. Culvert
are vastly outnumbered…
but their family's future…
is at stake.
Their two determined beaks
pack a real… pinch.
The rush-hour mob backtracks to the gate.
The path of less resistance.
At least it…
doesn't bite.
[braying softly]
Poor Junior,
stuck halfway through his molt.
Adolescent limbo.
And the rescue team just discovered why.
Two infected seal bite wounds
have sapped his energy reserves.
It's hard to heal
and grow new feathers at the same time.
Junior needs stitches.
And stitches mean…
naptime.
[monitor beeping]
His deep bites are cleaned and closed…
to get Junior back on schedule.
Rest well, and dream of large fishes.
When you wake up,
your life should be a whole lot better.
[braying]
[whimsical music playing]
Mr. Bougainvillea is back on shore…
with a bellyful of fish.
He's eager
to relieve Mrs. B from the nest.
But…
the Car Park Gang…
again.
Frustrated, and ready to rumble.
[screeching aggressively]
He doesn't have time for this nonsense.
He has responsibilities.
Time to show these young bullies
that Mr. B stands for "Badass."
[braying]
[braying loudly]
Respect your elders, punks!
Home at last,
where he can digest in peace.
Or not.
[squawking]
A Cape gull, another local egg-eater,
hankers for an over-easy meal.
Mr. B is well-armed…
and two feet tall.
But the gull has one big advantage.
Wings that actually work.
[dramatic music playing]
The Bougainvilleas' bush
protects from an aerial attack.
If this gull wants their eggs,
he's gotta come down to their level.
[penguin braying]
And he's gotta go through Mr. B.
[squawks]
[brays]
That was just a warm-up.
Gulls are notoriously persistent.
And his schedule today is wide open.
[squawks]
When suddenly…
[ethereal music playing]
…a mysterious egg
falls from the sky!
A gift from the penguin god?
More like their neighbors up the hill.
[whimsical music playing]
These miracle sky eggs…
are helpless.
[penguins braying]
But they're tough nuts to crack.
This should keep him busy for a while.
Clearly, wings aren't everything.
At the rehab center,
the cafeteria is open.
Junior is awake,
and all stitched up.
He can now enjoy his first meal in weeks.
Hand-fed till he's full to the brim.
Sardines are the fuel he needs to heal…
and jump-start his molt.
The last ones to spoil him like this
were his parents.
Almost as good as fish?
[braying]
Potential friends.
It's clear.
These are his people.
They're all survivors.
Just like him.
Getting a second chance at life.
The only thing he doesn't have
is freedom.
If he wants that,
he's got some serious
feather-growing to do.
The January sun rises on Penguin Town.
[indistinct chatter]
And the newly-wedded Culverts
have some big news to share.
[braying]
Behold!
Their first-ever clutch of eggs.
Their carefree days are over.
Their egg-sitting marathon begins…
in the heat.
South African summers
have been hotter every year.
And today is a real scorcher.
Mrs. Culvert draws the short straw.
Egg duty.
Nest-bound…
for hours.
Panting,
along with her pink face patches,
helps release body heat.
[panting]
But when you're sitting in an oven,
it's not enough.
Only the cool waves
of the South Atlantic…
can deliver her from heatstroke.
[braying softly]
Maybe death.
If her husband's not back soon,
Mrs. C will be forced to choose.
Protect her eggs…
or save herself.
[dramatic music playing]
[penguin braying]
[penguin braying]
[penguins braying]
[narrator] Being abducted by aliens…
is a terrifying experience.
But Junior has no idea
how close he was to death.
[braying]
That he's even endangered.
[man talking indistinctly]
Or that these giants
aren't breading him for dinner.
They're trying to save his life.
[opening theme song playing]
Yeah! ♪
Yeah, yeah ♪
Till my breath's all gone
I'll be pushing on so strong ♪
I'll keep pushing on ♪
Till the river runs dry
I've got to try, try, try ♪
I keep pushing on ♪
When my soul's burnt through
I won't be feeling blue ♪
I'll keep pushing on ♪
Till my dying day
I won't give it all away ♪
I keep pushing on ♪
[birds squawking]
Yeah! ♪
[penguins braying]
[narrator] Summer and the six-month
penguin breeding season
is well underway in South Africa.
[whimsical music playing]
A thousand monogamous penguin couples…
with one agenda.
To mate their way
off the endangered species list.
[braying]
Oh! Please, carry on, you two.
Your… colony needs you.
[braying continues]
Good work.
On the south side of Penguin Town,
the Bougainvilleas' efforts
have already borne fruit.
Brand-new eggs.
Fragile.
Precious.
Roundish.
After several seasons together,
these two know their way around an egg.
And they're all about teamwork.
The eggs need protecting, 24/7.
But the parents still gotta eat.
So, divide and conquer.
Today is Dad's turn to fish.
Mr. Bougainvillea's on a schedule.
No time for the scenic route.
Even though the quickest path…
runs through a sketchy neighborhood.
[suspenseful music playing]
This car park…
is gang territory.
Mr. B's grumpy, single neighbor…
found backup.
They've claimed
this shortcut as their own…
[braying]
…and none shall pass.
It's better not to engage.
Just don't make eye contact.
And stay out of reach.
Another shady character
watches Mr. B leave.
This Cape mongoose…
has been casing
the Bougainvilleas' hedge
for days.
[ominous music playing]
Known egg poacher,
and suspected chick murderer.
He's not a threat to Mrs. B,
but he'd kill for an omelet.
Mom holds her ground.
She can't risk exposing the eggs.
[brays]
[penguin braying]
Lucky for Mrs. Bougainvillea…
her nest is not the only one in the hedge.
This egg?
Abandoned, after failing to hatch.
Maybe it's unfertilized,
or was damaged, and died.
Only half of all penguin eggs ever hatch.
Mrs. B dodged the season's first bullet.
Good job, Mom.
Bad eggs can make good neighbors.
[indistinct chatter and laughter]
On the beachfront…
the newlywed Culverts
put the finishing touches
on their very first nest.
Eggs could come any minute.
But something
less welcome is also on the way.
A waddle of full-bellied commuters,
eager to relieve their partners.
Their quickest way home?
Up the steps…
past the gate,
and then a shortcut…
just through this nice, smooth…
culvert.
[braying]
Bummer.
The Culverts' dream home…
is a rush-hour bottleneck.
[braying continues]
Mr. and Mrs. Culvert
are vastly outnumbered…
but their family's future…
is at stake.
Their two determined beaks
pack a real… pinch.
The rush-hour mob backtracks to the gate.
The path of less resistance.
At least it…
doesn't bite.
[braying softly]
Poor Junior,
stuck halfway through his molt.
Adolescent limbo.
And the rescue team just discovered why.
Two infected seal bite wounds
have sapped his energy reserves.
It's hard to heal
and grow new feathers at the same time.
Junior needs stitches.
And stitches mean…
naptime.
[monitor beeping]
His deep bites are cleaned and closed…
to get Junior back on schedule.
Rest well, and dream of large fishes.
When you wake up,
your life should be a whole lot better.
[braying]
[whimsical music playing]
Mr. Bougainvillea is back on shore…
with a bellyful of fish.
He's eager
to relieve Mrs. B from the nest.
But…
the Car Park Gang…
again.
Frustrated, and ready to rumble.
[screeching aggressively]
He doesn't have time for this nonsense.
He has responsibilities.
Time to show these young bullies
that Mr. B stands for "Badass."
[braying]
[braying loudly]
Respect your elders, punks!
Home at last,
where he can digest in peace.
Or not.
[squawking]
A Cape gull, another local egg-eater,
hankers for an over-easy meal.
Mr. B is well-armed…
and two feet tall.
But the gull has one big advantage.
Wings that actually work.
[dramatic music playing]
The Bougainvilleas' bush
protects from an aerial attack.
If this gull wants their eggs,
he's gotta come down to their level.
[penguin braying]
And he's gotta go through Mr. B.
[squawks]
[brays]
That was just a warm-up.
Gulls are notoriously persistent.
And his schedule today is wide open.
[squawks]
When suddenly…
[ethereal music playing]
…a mysterious egg
falls from the sky!
A gift from the penguin god?
More like their neighbors up the hill.
[whimsical music playing]
These miracle sky eggs…
are helpless.
[penguins braying]
But they're tough nuts to crack.
This should keep him busy for a while.
Clearly, wings aren't everything.
At the rehab center,
the cafeteria is open.
Junior is awake,
and all stitched up.
He can now enjoy his first meal in weeks.
Hand-fed till he's full to the brim.
Sardines are the fuel he needs to heal…
and jump-start his molt.
The last ones to spoil him like this
were his parents.
Almost as good as fish?
[braying]
Potential friends.
It's clear.
These are his people.
They're all survivors.
Just like him.
Getting a second chance at life.
The only thing he doesn't have
is freedom.
If he wants that,
he's got some serious
feather-growing to do.
The January sun rises on Penguin Town.
[indistinct chatter]
And the newly-wedded Culverts
have some big news to share.
[braying]
Behold!
Their first-ever clutch of eggs.
Their carefree days are over.
Their egg-sitting marathon begins…
in the heat.
South African summers
have been hotter every year.
And today is a real scorcher.
Mrs. Culvert draws the short straw.
Egg duty.
Nest-bound…
for hours.
Panting,
along with her pink face patches,
helps release body heat.
[panting]
But when you're sitting in an oven,
it's not enough.
Only the cool waves
of the South Atlantic…
can deliver her from heatstroke.
[braying softly]
Maybe death.
If her husband's not back soon,
Mrs. C will be forced to choose.
Protect her eggs…
or save herself.
[dramatic music playing]