Chapter Text
“Alright, Kowalski, what’s this latest crackpot invention of yours do, anyway?”
“I call it: The Love-ometer. You simply point this laser beam at the subject’s heart and the object of their truest, deepest affections will appear right on this screen. It’s so accurate, the results may surprise even that of the subject.”
“Hoover dam it, Kowalski!” Skipper shouts. “Just once, couldn’t you invent something useful to military operations? Like a self-firing missile with superhuman intelligence or a tank that doubles as a sno-cone machine?”
“Oh, but Skipper, this device is useful for military operations! Why, with the knowledge of everybody’s secret love interest, we’ll be able to use that information as a bargaining chip. The next time that evil Dr. Blowhole threatens to destroy the planet? We’ll just shoot him with the Love-ometer, find out who he’s secretly pining for, and then skillfully use that information against him.”
“It could also be really useful in rescue operations,” Private adds, waddling over to the group.
“Right you are, Private,” Kowalski agrees. “Half the zoo’s population held captive by your old foe Hans? Just point this baby in his direction and watch how fast he lets those hostages go.”
“Hmmm…” Skipper taps pensively at his chin. “Blackmail with a side of persuasive threats. I like it.”
“I knew you would, Skipper.” Kowalski beams. “But before we put the Love-ometer to use, we’ll need to test it on a small sample population. Who wants to go first?”
All three penguins back away. They know all too well how awry Kowalski’s inventions tend to go and none of them are hankering to be his next guinea pig.
“Fine,” Kowalski sighs. “I’ll go first.”
He stands back and lets Rico shoot the bright pink laser beam into the center of his chest. The hand of the meter reaches the heart symbol in about five seconds, signaling with a loud beep that the result is ready.
“By golly, it works!” Kowalski squeals, taking the device and looking down at the screen. “It really works! Alright, who’s next?”
“Wait a minute, Kowalski.” Private waddles over, looking curious. “Aren’t you going to tell us what it says?”
Kowalski squirms and pulls the Love-ometer closer to his chest. “Ermmm… I’d rather not.”
“Oh, just hand it over, Kowalski,” Skipper says. “I’m sure it’s not that—”
But Rico has already grabbed it from Kowalski’s grasp and is now holding it up in front of Skipper.
“—bad.”
Skipper makes a disgusted face and takes the device from Rico, skillfully avoiding Private’s wandering eyes as he hands it back to Kowalski.
“I’m sorry, young Private,” Skipper says, wrapping a flipper around the shorter penguin’s shoulders, “but there are just some things in this world you’ll never be old enough to see.”
Kowalski blushes and resets the Love-ometer. “Alright, Rico. You’re up next.”
He aims the beam at Rico and the result is just as expected: Ms. Perky, his most beloved blonde-haired doll.
“Right again!” Kowalski gives himself a congratulatory fist pump. “We are on a roll.”
Private’s result is also fairly predictable: an image of Prince Shares-a-lot from his favorite television program, the Lunacorns. All of the penguins roll their eyes, but even Skipper can’t help but smile at that one. Private is just too adorable.
“Alright, Skipper. Last one.”
The gang expects to find an image of Kitka the falcon, or maybe even Marlene. Some may have even suspected Hans, despite Skipper’s claim that they are mortal enemies. But when the dial reaches the bright red heart symbol and the device makes a loud ding to let them know the result is ready, Kowalski just stares down at the screen, speechless.
“Well, Kowalski?” Skipper asks, frowning as he waddles forward. “What does it say?”
“I—I don’t know how to tell you this, Skipper,” Kowalski says, bracing himself for the shitstorm of deniability he knows is coming, “so I’ll just let you see for yourself.”
He turns the device in his hands so that the screen is facing Skipper. The image is of King Julien, shaking his booty, looking joyful and full of life with a smoothie in one hand and his boombox in the other.
“Ringtail?” Skipper blinks, then looks up at Kowalski in shock. “Is this some kind of twisted prank?”
“No,” Kowalski says, then nervously clears his throat. “It would appear as though you are secretly in love with… King Julien.”
“Love him?” Skipper scoffs, looking positively aghast. “I don't even like him!”
“Well, according to the Love-ometer, you very much do.”
“Me? In love with Ringtail?” Skipper lets out a panicked laugh. “Have you lost your mind, man? The very idea… it’s just… it’s lunacy! It’s madness!”
“No, it’s science.”
“Alright, Kowalski,” Skipper puts on a stern face and begins to pace, “I need options and I need them now.”
“I’m afraid there are no options, Skipper.”
“No options?” Skipper looks devastated. “No, no, there are always options. Think, men! Think!”
“You’re right, Skipper!” Private beams and waddles in his direction. “There is an option!”
“Alright, young Private,” Skipper sighs, wrapping a flipper around him, “lay it on me. There’s no task or mission that’s too tough for me. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
“You could go over to King Julien’s and have a nice, long talk about your feelings!”
“What feelings?”
“And if he feels the same way that you do, then an exciting interpersonal adventure full of caring and mutual respect could blossom, just like between Princess Self-Respectra and Prince-Shares-a-lot from the Lunacorns!”
“Private, all of this hippie mumbo jumbo is making my head hurt. Just get to the point, will ya?”
Kowalski steps forward. “I think what Private is trying to say is that you should probably tell King Julien the truth. Tell him you love him."
“For the last time, I am not in love with Ringtail! I don’t even like the guy.”
“But you do like him, Skipper!” Private pipes in with a smile. “How about the time you stopped him from getting eaten by that giant space squid? Or the time you saved him from certain death at the hands of Dr. Blowhole?”
“Those were just standard rescue operations,” Skipper rebuts, though it’s clear he is getting more and more self-conscious. “They don't mean I have feelings for the guy.”
“Actually, Private does have a point, Skipper,” Kowalski says, whipping out his abacus to do the necessary calculations. “According to the data I’ve been collecting ever since King Julien came to the zoo just over one and a half years ago, you have saved him from mortal danger precisely thirty-seven times, spent time with him when you didn’t have to another seventy-three times, and acted like you were fighting but were actually thoroughly enjoying each other’s company a total of… one-thousand-seven-hundred-eighty-two times.”
Skipper blinks. He’s shocked and angry, yes, but he can’t fault Kowalski’s calculations. “Alright, so you got me there. But that doesn't mean I'm in love with the guy. It just means I'm capable of tolerating him long enough to treat him like an equal.”
“Just tell him how you feel, Skipper,” Private suggests with that warm, hopeful smile of his. “I promise that will make everything better!”
“For the last time, I do not feel anything for that ridiculous dancing lemur!” Skipper yells, then expels a hard breath. “Look, do I have to state the obvious, men? As smart and capable as Kowalski is, this particular invention of his is clearly faulty. It’s broken, it doesn’t work, it’s trash!” He takes in a deep breath, as he’s honestly on the border of hyperventilating. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very important date with the popcorn machine.”
He stomps proudly across the room and over to the door, only pausing to turn around once he pulls it open.
“That's what the device should have said, Kowalski. Popcorn. Because that’s who I really love.”
Skipper can feel the reverberation of the door slamming as he steps out into the warm, summer sun. As much as he respects and adores his team, he couldn’t bear to stay in there and listen to that nonsense for even one second longer.
He scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he sits down near the edge of the pool. “Imagine me, in love with Ringtail. Why that’s just about as crazy as seeing a two-headed rhino wearing a hula skirt with two talking parrots on its head.”
He hears a strange sound, then—something about polly wanting a cracker—and his eyes slowly drift to the left of him, where he sees a two-headed rhino in a hula skirt with two talking parrots on its head, sipping lazily on what appears to be a pina colada.
He’s hit with a fresh surge of anger. “Oh, come on!”
“Kowalski?” Private asks, waddling up to him. "Do you really think the device is defective?"
"If it is, it seems to have only affected Skipper’s readings,” Kowalski says, drumming a flipper against his chin. His eyes light up. “What I need is a larger sample size!"
While Rico heads out to try and find Skipper, Kowalski and Private hit up every habitat in the zoo to take everybody’s readings. So far, everyone's results check out, even if some are a bit… bizarre. They stop by the lemur habitat last, as it’s quite close to their own, and take both Mort and Maurice’s readings. Mort’s shows a mildly disturbing image of King Julien’s feet, while Maurice’s result displays an attractive lady friend he once courted while on Spring Break.
“Well, this one checks out, too,” Kowalski sighs, resetting the Love-ometer. “King Julien, you're the last one.”
“This is so ridiculous,” the king snorts. “You're telling me that a stupid laser beamy thingie shot at my heart is going to tell me who it is that I secretly, undyingly love?”
“Precisely,” Kowalski says, aiming the Love-ometer at his chest. “Ready?”
Julien winces. “Will it hurt?”
“Not as long as you stay perfectly still, no.”
“Me, me,” Mort whispers under his breath as the pink beam shoots out of the device and into King Julien’s chest, “please, oh, please let it be me…”
“Well, that confirms it—” Kowalski sighs a few moments later, looking down at the screen.
“...me, me, me…”
“—you’re in love with Skipper.”
Private squeals. Mort whimpers. Maurice’s eyes bug out in shock.
And King Julien just stares at Kowalski, as though he can’t believe his ears. He blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Here, see for yourself,” Kowalski says, handing him the Love-ometer, which shows a rather handsome picture of Skipper, smiling all stately and dapper with both of his flippers curled at his sides.
There is a long pause as King Julien stares down at the picture. He is unable to believe his own two eyes, despite the twinge of something he feels, gnawing at the pit of his stomach. A moment passes and he does his best to shake it off, deflecting the slight sting of feelings by breaking out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
“Oh, that is funny,” he snorts and hands the device back to Kowalski. “You are such a funny penguin. Now, come on, show me the real result. Is it Marlene? Because I’ve always thought she was kind of cute, you know.”
“I am not being funny,” Kowalski sighs. “This is the real result.”
The comment only makes King Julien laugh even harder, doubling over on his throne and making obnoxious snorting sounds.
“Okay, wait, wait, wait... you are saying to me that I, the most almightiest lemur king that has ever... kinged... is in love with a bossy, fishy-smelling penguin?”
“According to the Love-ometer, which has been spot-on for ninety-nine percent of the zoo’s population… yes.”
Another burst of laughter comes shooting out of King Julien’s mouth. “This is outrageousness!”
“No, this is science.”
“Alright, annoying sciencey penguin, answer me this then, huh? How could I, a lemur king who values dance-partying and booty-shaking above all things, possibly be in love with someone who doesn’t even appreciate my supreme booty-shaking skills?”
Private and Kowalski glance at each other.
“That cranky commando penguin couldn't recognize a decent booty shaking if it was rubbed all up in his fishy face,” King Julien dismisses, leaning back against his throne. “All he cares about is boring stuff like ammo and missions and bossing you guys around all day.”
“Hmmm... that is a valid point.” Kowalski taps his chin with his pen. “Skipper's heroic nature and strive for order would be at odds with your hedonistic, party-throwing nature.”
Julien flails a hand, looking triumphant. “I rest my case.”
“However,” Kowalski goes on, “it has been scientifically proven that two people who are drastically different in many ways, but also have just enough in common to form a close bond, often experience the strongest attraction of all.”
“Oh, please. Don’t make me laugh this hard so early in the morning!” King Julien clutches at his stomach. He’s honestly wheezing, now, the idea is so incredibly ludicrous. “What can I possibly have in common with that black and white buzzkill you call a Skipper?”
“Well, for starters, you’re both leaders,” Kowalski explains. “Skipper is in charge of our unit and you’re the… Well, you claim to be the king of the lemurs, though we’ve yet to see any actual paperwork on that.” He awkwardly clears his throat. “The two of you are also ridiculously stubborn and both react rather ungracefully to criticism or being proven wrong.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Maurice chimes in, earning him a side-eye from the King.
“Even your differences are complementary to each other, in a way,” Kowalski continues. “You require a grounding presence to force you back down to reality every now and then, which Skipper is more than able to provide. And I’ve seen the way you bring out the fun side in Skipper. He even danced last week at Mort’s birthday party, remember?”
“It really does make a lot of sense,” Private adds, happily, waddling over to the throne. “You admire Skipper for his heroism, and respect the way he goes out of his way to help others. You’re attracted to the qualities in him that you lack yourself - how fearless and brave he is in the face of danger. That, when combined with all of your similarities, has caused a steady mound of buried feelings to grow in each of your hearts over the past year or so. It really is quite simple when you think about it.”
“Puh-lease,” King Julien says, laughter still evident in his tone. “Do I have to be the only one to point out the obviousness here? Clearly, that laser beamy machine of yours is broken or it would have displayed my actual true love—”
“Oh, please, let it be me!” Mort whispers to himself, hands clasped in prayer.
“—the smoothie machine.”
Maurice rolls his eyes while Mort breaks out into tears and runs off in hysterics, of which no one pays any mind.
“I'm afraid the evidence is irrefutable,” Kowalski says, looking rather serious. “We've tested the entire zoo population and, with the exception of you and Skipper, the device has returned the correct results for everybody else. The statistics of the experiment would conclude that the device is functioning correctly. It’s… Well, it’s you and Skipper that aren’t.”
“But obviously it does not function correctly if it says I am in love with a testy penguin!”
“Actually, it does.” Kowalski nervously clears his throat. “It would appear as though you and Skipper are just... in denial.”
“Denial?” King Julien huffs. “No, no, I cannot be hearing any more of this!” He waves a hand, all laughter and amusement drained from his tone. “Maurice! Get these sciencey penguins and their demonic love device out of my royal throne area at once!”
“Alright, you heard the king,” Maurice steps forward, shooing them away, “move it out.”
“Imagine me,” Julien scoffs as the penguins turn to leave, “the greatest and bestest lemur king, in love with a cranky penguin who can't even move it move it.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against his throne.
“Whatever you say, King Julien,” Private quietly replies, looking sad and disappointed as he waddles away.
“You know, King Julien,” Maurice says, leaning in to fan his face, “they do kind of have a point.”
“Shut up, Maurice.”