Fu Panda: Kung Fu Panda Kung

Oogway dissolved into glowing peach blossoms, his spirit returning to the universe. Shifu, devastated, turned to Po. “You are not ready. No one is.”

Mr. Ping, far below, rang a dinner bell. “Soup’s on!”

Po grinned, flipped off the balcony, landed in a perfect crouch, and ran home—not to wash dishes, but to eat with his father. kung fu panda kung fu panda

That night, Po stood on the balcony of the Jade Palace, looking over the Valley of Peace. He was still a panda. Still a little clumsy. Still loved noodles.

“Then,” Shifu grinned, “we train… with food.” Oogway dissolved into glowing peach blossoms, his spirit

What followed was the most joyful montage the Jade Palace had ever seen. Shifu threw buns; Po had to catch them with kung fu moves to eat them. Shifu hung mooncakes from the ceiling; Po had to leap and twist to bite them. To reach a basket of dumplings, Po had to climb a thousand steps—so he ran up them, laughing.

“No,” Po said, and gently, lovingly, he wrapped his own pinky around Tai Lung’s. “I’m not. Skadoosh. ” No one is

“Hey,” Po said. “Fat panda here. You want the secret? The real secret?”