Chicken Run

Ginger:
So laying eggs all your life and then getting plucked, stuffed and roasted is good enough for you, is it?

Babs:
It's a livin'.

Babs:
All me life flashed before me eyes.

Babs:
It was really borin'.

Ginger:
Ladies, please. Let's not lose our heads.

Bunty:
Lose our heads? Aaaahh.

Babs:
Morning, Ginger. Back from holiday?

Ginger:
I wasn't on holiday, Babs. I was in solitary confinement.

Babs:
Oh, it's nice to get a bit of time to yourself, isn't it?

Bunty:
In all my life, I've never heard such a fantastic load of tripe. Oh, face the facts, ducks. The chances of us getting out of here are a million to one.

Ginger:
Then there's still a chance.

Ginger:
Listen. We'll either die free chickens or we die trying.

Babs:
Are those the only choices?

Rocky:
Now, the most important thing is, we have to work as a team, which means: you do everything I tell you.

Fetcher:
Birds of a feather flop together.

Babs:
I don't want to be a pie. I don't like gravy.

Ginger:
But you're supposed to be up there - you're the pilot.

Fowler:
Don't be ridiculous. I can't fly this contraption.

Ginger:
"Back in your day"? The Royal Air Force?

Fowler:
644 Squadron, Poultry Division - we were the mascots.

Ginger:
You mean you never actually *flew* the plane?

Fowler:
Good heavens, no! I'm a chicken! The Royal Air Force doesn't let chickens behind the controls of a complex aircraft.

Rocky:
The name's Rocky. Rocky the Rhode Island Red. Rhodes for short.

Bunty:
Rocky Rhodes?

Rocky:
Catchy, ain't it?

Fetcher:
It's raining hen.

Rocky:
You see, flying takes three things: Hard work, perseverance and... hard work.

Fowler:
You said "hard work" twice.

Rocky:
That's because it takes twice as much work as perseverance.

Mr. Tweedy:
What is it?

Mrs. Tweedy:
It's a pie machine, you idiot. Chickens go in, pies come out.

Mr. Tweedy:
Ooh, what kind of pies?

Mrs. Tweedy:
Apple.

Mr. Tweedy:
My favourite.

Mrs. Tweedy:
Chicken pies, you great lummox. Imagine. In less than a fortnight, every grocers' in the county will be stocked with box upon box of Mrs. Tweedy's Homemade Chicken Pies.

Mr. Tweedy:
Just Mrs?

Mrs. Tweedy:
Woman's touch. Makes the public feel more comfortable.

Mr. Tweedy:
How does it work?

Mrs. Tweedy:
Get me a chicken and I'll show you.

Mr. Tweedy:
I know just the one.

Fowler:
Pushy Americans, always showing up late for every war. Overpaid, oversexed, and over here.

Ginger:
I should turn you in right now.

Rocky:
You wouldn't... would you?

Ginger:
Give me one reason why I shouldn't.

Rocky:
Because I'm... cute?

Rocky:
Hey, what kind of crazy chick are you? Do you know what will happen if he finds me?

Ginger:
It's a cruel world.

Rocky:
I just decided I don't like you.

Ginger:
I just decided I don't care.

Fowler:
Great Scott, what was that?

Mac:
A cling-on, Cap'n, and the engines can't take it.

Nick:
The exits are located here and here. In the quite likely event of an emergency, put your head between your knees...

Fetcher:
…and kiss your bum goodbye!

Fowler:
We need more power.

Mac:
I cannot work miracles, cap'n. We're giving her all she's got.

Rocky:
What's eating Grandpa?

Rocky:
Oh, just a little place I call the land of the free and the home of the brave...

Mac:
Scotland!

Rocky:
No! America.

Nick:
Here's a thought. Why don't we get an egg and start our own chicken farm? That way we'd have all the eggs we could eat.

Fetcher:
Right. We'll need a chicken, then.

Nick:
No... no, we'll need an egg. You have the egg first, that's where you get the chicken from.

Fetcher:
No, that's cobblers. If you don't have a chicken, where are you going to get the egg?

Nick:
From the chicken that comes from the egg.

Fetcher:
Yeah, but you have to have an egg to have a chicken.

Nick:
Yeah, but you've got to get the chicken first to get the egg, and then you get the egg... to get the chicken out of...

Fetcher:
Hang on, let's go over this again?

Nick:
Poultry in Motion.

Rocky:
It's like an oven in here.

Nick:
What are you sobbin' about, you nancy?

Fetcher:
Little moments like this, mate. It's what makes the job all worthwhile. Wanna dance?

Nick:
Yeah, all right.

Mac:
A cannon. Aye, *that* would give ye thrust.

Fowler:
Why, back in my RAF days...

Mrs. Tweedy:
They're *chickens*, you dolt. Apart from you, they're the most stupid creatures on this planet. They don't plot, they don't scheme, and they are *not* organized.

Ginger:
Think, everyone, think. What *haven't* we tried yet?

Bunty:
We haven't tried *not* trying to escape.

Babs:
Hmm. *That* might work.

Fowler:
Cock-a-doodle-doo. What, what.

Nick:
We slipped into the farmer's room, all quiet like.

Fetcher:
Like a fish.

Nick:
Yeah, and we..."Like a fish"? You stupid Norbert.

Mr. Tweedy:
I told you they was organised.

Rocky:
Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You wanna get every chicken in this place out of here *at the same time*?

Ginger:
Of course.

Rocky:
You're certifiable! You can't pull off a stunt like that. That's suicide.

Ginger:
Where there's a will, there's a way.

Rocky:
Couldn't agree more. And I *will* be leaving *that* way.

Fowler:
Good grief! The turnip's bought it!

Ginger:
*That's* for leaving.

Ginger:
And *this* is for coming back.

Rocky:
Ducky, I think you flew four feet today!

Nick:
Right, four feet! From the roof to the ground.

Nick:
Eggs from heaven.

Fetcher:
No, from her bum.

Fowler:
Increase velocity!

Babs:
What does that mean?

Bunty:
It means pedal your flippin' giblets out!

Babs:
Perhaps he just went on holiday.

Bunty:
Perhaps he just went to get away from your infernal knitting!

Mac:
Well, you were the one that was always hitting him. Let's see how you like it.

Bunty:
Don't push me, four-eyes.

Ginger:
We can't give you our eggs. They're too valuable.

Nick:
And so are we.

Nick:
After you, Fetcher.

Fetcher:
After I what?

Nick:
Move!

Rocky:
Listen. Shh. You hear that?

Rocky:
That's the open road calling my name, and I was born to answer that call. Bye.

Babs:
He must have very good hearing.

Fetcher:
The tension's killing me.

Nick:
It's gonna kill her.

Rocky:
Easy, Pops. Cockfighting is illegal where I come from.

Rocky:
...And the pig says to the horse, "Hey, fella. Why the long face?"

Fowler:
Now see here! I, I don't recall authorising a hop!

Bunty:
Oh, shut up and dance!

Mr. Tweedy:
Me tools! Why, you thieving little buggers!

Rocky:
Why, all the beautiful English chicks, of course.

Babs:
I knew he was fake all along. In fact, I'm not even certain he was American.

Mr. Tweedy:
So, gnomes now, is it?

Babs:
Chicken seed, my favourite!

Mr. Tweedy:
What... what... what's all this then?

Mrs. Tweedy:
This is our future, Mr. Tweedy. No more wasting time with petty egg collecting and miniscule profits.

Mr. Tweedy:
No more eggs? But we've always been egg farmers. My father, and his father, and all their fathers, they was all...

Mrs. Tweedy:
Poor... Worthless... Nothings! But all that is about to change. This will take Tweedy's farm out of the Dark Ages and into full-scale automated production. Elisha Tweedy will be poor no longer.

Mr. Tweedy:
What... what... what's all this, then?

Mrs. Tweedy:
This is our future, Mr. Tweedy. No more wasting time with petty egg collecting and minuscule profits.

Mr. Tweedy:
No more eggs? But we've always been egg farmers. My father, and his father, and all their fathers, they was all...

Mrs. Tweedy:
Poor... Worthless... Nothings! But all that is about to change. This will take Tweedy's farm out of the Dark Ages and into full-scale automated production. Elisha Tweedy will be poor no longer.

Mr. Tweedy:
Now let that be a lesson for the lot of ya - no chicken escapes from Tweedy's farm!

Rocky:
Sleep tight, angel face. The Rock is on the case.

Ginger:
Comfortable?

Rocky:
Nice hideout. Ouch! I had more room in my egg.

Nick:
Eggs. Just like the ones that rooster was gonna lay. Only roosters don't lay eggs, do they?

Fetcher:
Don't they?

Nick:
No, it's a lady thing apparently - ask your mum.

Ginger:
We’re still going to fly out of here!

Mr. Tweedy:
What is it?

Mrs. Tweedy:
It's a pie machine, you idiot. Chickens go in, pies come out.

Mr. Tweedy:
Ooh. What kind of pies?

Mrs. Tweedy:
Apple.

Mr. Tweedy:
My favourite!

Mrs. Tweedy:
Chicken pies, you great lummox!

Mrs.tweedy:

They don't plot!they don't scheme. AND THEIR NOT ORGANIZED!!!!

[Bunty, Babs and another hen sneak towards Hut 17 with knitted masks over them. Bunty bangs the door, and Ginger lets them in when she sees who it is, except for Babs, who just stands there. Ginger then pulls Babs in by her wing]

Babs:
Ohh!

[Nick bangs the door, and Ginger looks to see who it is.]

Nick:
You called? Nick and…

Fetcher:
Fetcher.

Nick:
At your service.

[Ginger comes out the door. Suddenly, she hears dogs barking and sees Mr. Tweedy looking out the farmhouse window]

Ginger:
Over here!

[She leads Nick and Fetcher to a corner.]

Ginger:
We need some more things.

Nick:
Right you are, miss! [opens a lunchbox and holds up a couple thimbles] How about this quality, hand-crafted tea set?

Ginger:
Um, no...

Fetcher:
[holds up a drain plug on a chain] Or this lovely necklace and pendant?

Ginger:
Well, it's lovely...

Nick:
[holds up a badminton birdie] Or how about this little number that's all the rage in the most fashionable coops in Paris. Simply pop it on like so... [pops it on Ginger's head, feathers side up so that she looks like an Indian] And as the French hens say, "Voila!"

Fetcher:
That is French.

Nick:
And that's two hats in one, miss. For parties... [turns the birdie over, making it look like a wedding veil] ...for weddings! Oh, madame! This makes you look like a vision, like a dream.

Fetcher:
Like a duck!

[Nick glares at him]

Ginger:
No, thank you. [takes off the birdie and shows a diagram of a catapult] We're making this. We need these things. Can you get them?

Nick:
Ooh-hoo-hoo. Ooh, This is a big job, miss. Oh, bigger than the other ones. No, no, this is gonna cost.

Ginger:
Same as always: one bag of seed. [hands Nick a bag of chicken feed]

Nick:
You call this pay?!

Fetcher:
It's chicken feed!

Ginger:
What else could go wrong?

Nick:
Eggs.

Ginger:
Eggs?!

Fetcher:
Eggs. [holds up an egg cup and licks his lips]

Ginger:
We can't give you our eggs. They're too valuable.

Nick:
And so are we. [packs up to leave] After you, Fetcher.

Fetcher:
[pause] After I what?

Nick:
Move!

Ginger:
Think everyone, think. What haven't we tried yet?

Babs:
Uh--

Bunty:
We haven't tried not trying to escape.

Babs:
[happily] Hmm. That might work.

Ginger:
What about Edwina? How many more empty nests will it take?

Bunty:
Well, perhaps it wouldn't be empty if she'd spent more time laying and less time escaping!

Ginger:
So laying eggs all your life and then getting plucked, stuffed and roasted is good enough for you, is it?

Babs:
It's a living.

Ginger:
Do you know what the problem is? Are not just all around us. The fences are here in your head.

Ginger:
There is a better place out there, beyond on the hill, outdoors, trees and grass.

Ginger:
You imagine it, with fresh grass and green.

Chicken #1:
And who feeds us?

Ginger:
We feed ourselves.

Chicken #2:
Where is the farm?

Ginger:
There is no farm.

Babs:
Then where does the farmer live?

Ginger:
There is no farmer, Babs.

Babs:
Is he on holiday?

Ginger:
He isn't anywhere! Don't you get it? There's no role call, no dogs, no coups and locks and keys, and no fences!

Bunty:
In all my life, I've never heard such a fantastic... LOAD OF TRIPE!

[The chickens start murmuring]

Bunty:
Oh, face the facts, ducks. The chances of us getting out of here are 1,000,000 to 1.

Ginger:
Then there's still a chance.

[first lines]

[Ginger has just dug a hole with a spoon to get under the fence. She signals Bunty, Babs, Edwina and some other chickens to come over to the fence, but they make a loud noise once they come to the fence]

Bunty:
[loud whispering] Shush!

Babs:
[whimpers]

[Bunty tries to get under the fence, but she is too big. Mr. Tweedy hears this and turns around]

Bunty:
I'm stuck!

[Ginger rolls her eyes and goes to help Bunty get under the fence, but Edwina, Babs and the other chickens are making too much noise trying to push Bunty under. Once Ginger arrives to the rescue, she puts her wing over Bunty's beak so that Mr. Tweedy doesn't hear her. Unfortunately, the noise of Edwina, Babs and the other chickens trying to push her under the fence attracts the attention of the dogs. Ginger hears the dogs and sees Mr. Tweedy trying to hold them back]

Ginger:
Get back!

[After everyone is yelling]

Rocky:
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa! Let's back up and start from the top. Where am I?

Ginger:
Oh, you're right, how rude of us. We're just very exci-- [clears throat] This is a chicken farm.

Babs:
And we're the chickens. [winks]

Rocky:
Ah, I'm with you so far. Chicken farm, chickens--

Fowler:
[about Rocky] I don't like the look of this one. His eyes are too close together.

Ginger:
Fowler, please!

Fowler:
And he's a yank!

Rocky:
Easy, pops. Cockfighting's illegal where I come from.

Bunty:
And where is that, exactly?

Rocky:
Ah, just a little place I call The Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave.

Mac:
Scotland!

Rocky:
No! America!

Chickens:
Oooh! America!

Fowler:
Poppycock! Pushy Americans, always showing up late for ever war. Overpaid, oversexed, and over here! [exits Hut 17]

Rocky:
Hey, what's eatin' Grandpa?

Ginger:
Oh, don't mind him, Mr...Mr.?

Rocky:
The name's Rocky. Rocky the Rhode Island Red. Rhodes for short.

Random:
Rocky Rhodes?

Rocky:
Catchy, ain't it?

Ginger:
Um, Mr. Rhodes, is this you?

Rocky:
Uh, who wants to know?

Ginger:
A group of rather desperate chickens. You see, if it is you, then you just might be the answer to our prayers.

[Rocky nervously looks at the chickens, who giggle anxiously]

Rocky:
Well, then, call me a miracle, doll face, 'cause that's me.

Chickens:
Oooh!

Agnes:
And what brings you to England, Mr. Rhodes?

Rocky:
Why, all the beautiful English chicks, of course.

Rocky:
So, you wanna fly? Well, it ain't gonna be easy, and it ain't gonna happen overnight either. You see, flying takes three things - hard work, perseverance and... hard work.

Fowler:
You said "hard work" twice!

Rocky:
That's because it takes twice as much work as perseverance. [licks a feather and shows it to the hens, making all of them except Ginger laugh]

Fowler:
Codswallop! [muttering] Cocky Yanks think that they know it all... [goes back into Hut 1]

Mr. Willard Tweedy:
[being attacked by the chickens] MRS. TWEEDY, THE CHICKENS ARE REVOLTING!

Mrs. Melisha Tweedy:
[with her back turned, not paying attention] Finally, something we agree on.

[Bunty is laying eggs from her nest for Nick and Fetcher to get more supplies as they are building the flying machine]

Nick:
Eggs from Heaven!

Fetcher:
No, from her bum!

[On the flying machine]

Fowler:
We need more power!

Mac:
I cannae work miracles, Cap'n! We're giving her all she's got!

[later, when Mrs. Tweedy grabs onto the string that the flying machine is pulling]

Fowler:
Great Scott! What was that?

Mac:
A cling-on, Cap'n! And the engines can't take it!

Fowler:
Increase velocity!

Babs:
What does that mean?

Bunty:
It means PEDAL YOUR FLIPPING GIBLETS OUT!!!

[Ginger makes a speech to the hens with Rocky behind her]

Ginger:
I knew it was possible.

Rocky:
Oh its possible alright.

Ginger:
I knew the answer would come.

Rocky:
Amen!

Ginger:
We're all going to fly over that fence, and Mr. Rhodes is going to show us how, right?

Rocky:
That's r-- W-W-What? Did you say "fly"?

Ginger:
You can teach us.

Rocky:
No, I can't. [The other hens sigh in despair] Listen. Shh! You hear that? [Silence] That's the open road calling my name and I was born to answer that call. Bye. [Dashes out the coop]

Babs:
He must have very good hearing.

[Fowler is forced to share his bunk in Hut 1 with Rocky]

Fowler:
ABSOLUTELY OUTRAGEOUS! Asking a senior officer to share his quarters! And with a non-commissioned Yank, no less! Why, back in my day, I'd never...

Rocky:
Hey! You weren't exactly MY first choice either. And scoot over, your wing's on my side of the bunk--

Fowler:
"YOUR SIDE OF THE BUNK"?! The WHOLE bunk is MY side of the bunk!

Rocky:
[snapping back] Just-- Oh, what's that smell?! Is that your breath?

Fowler:
[grumbling] ... It's absolutely outrageous...

Mac:
THRUST! [rapidfire] I went over my calculations, hen, and I forgot the key element we're missing is thrust!

[Silence]

Rocky:
I-– I didn't get a word of that.

Mac:
THRUST! Other birds, like ducks and geese, when they take off, what do they have? THRUST!

Rocky:
I swear she ain't using real words.

Ginger:
She said we need more thrust.

Rocky:
Oh! Thrust! Well, of course we need thrust! Thrust and flying are like, well, like this. [counts on his feathers] That's flying, and that's thrust.

Ginger:
Will you excuse us?

Mac:
Aye.

Ginger:
Where there's a will, there's a way.

Rocky:
Couldn't agree more. And I WILL be leaving THAT way.

Ginger:
But...Mr. Rhodes...Please!

Rocky:
[singing] ? Oh, I'm the type of guy...that likes to roam around. ? [a horn honks and a van comes into view] ? I'm never in-- ? [gasps and dashes behind the hut]

Ginger:
So that's it. You're from the circus.

Rocky:
[alarmed] Shh!

Ginger:
You're on the run, aren't you?

Rocky:
[pulls Ginger behind Hut 17] You wanna keep it down?! I'm trying to lay low here!

Ginger:
I should turn you in right now!

Rocky:
You wouldn't… would you?

Ginger:
Give me one reason why I shouldn't.

Rocky:
Because I'm... cute? [Ginger stares at him and squawks loudly, he quickly clamps her beak shut] Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! What kind of crazy chick are you? Do you know what'll happen if he finds me?!

Ginger:
It's a cruel world.

Rocky:
I've just decided, I don't like you.

Ginger:
I've just decided, I don't care. Now show us how to fly.

Rocky:
With this wing?!

Ginger:
Teach us, then!

Rocky:
No!

[Ginger squawks again]

Mrs. Melisha Tweedy:
He's valuable, you say?

Circus Man:
Sure.

Mrs. Melisha Tweedy:
[to Mr. Tweedy] Get the torch.

Rocky:
[clamps her beak closed again] Now you listen here, sister. I'm not going back to that life! I'm a lone free ranger; emphasis on "free"!

Ginger:
And that's what we want: freedom! [Rocky notices the Tweedys approaching] Fancy that, they're coming this way.

Rocky:
Oh, no! Oh, no, they're after me!

Ginger:
Teach us to fly, and we'll hide you.

Rocky:
And if I don't? [Ginger starts to squawk again when Rocky clamp her beak shut the instant she does] Was your father, by any chance, a vulture?

Ginger:
Do we have a deal? [Offers her wing to seal the deal. Rocky reluctantly agrees and Ginger pulls him behind Hut 17]

Rocky:
Time to make good on that deal, doll–

Ginger:
[grabs his beak] The name... is Ginger. [knocks on the wall of Hut 17. A hidden door opens and two chickens grab her and Rocky and take them inside]

Ginger:
I thought you were going to teach us how to fly.

Rocky:
That's what I'm doing.

Ginger:
[chuckles] Isn't there usually some flapping involved?

Rocky:
Hey, do I tell you how to lay eggs? Relax. We're making progress.

Ginger:
Really? I can't help feeling we're going round in circles. [points to the chickens, who are indeed, spinning around in circles]

Rocky:
What the--? Hey! Cut it out! You're making me dizzy! [The chickens stop, and start wobble around uneasily and toppling over] Yeah. I think they're ready to fly now.

Ginger:
Good, 'cause they certainly can't walk anymore.

Ginger:
[bangs her gavel] Order, order!

[After Ginger has told the chickens that the Tweedys are planning to kill them all]

Rocky:
Listen, I've met some hard-boiled eggs in my day, but I'd say you're about 20 minutes!

Ginger:
And what's that supposed to mean?

Rocky:
It means you gotta lighten up. You see, over in America, we have this rule - "If you want to motivate someone, don't mention death!"

Ginger:
Funny. Over here, the rule is "Always tell the truth!"

Rocky:
Oh, and hey, that's been working like a real charm, hasn't it? Here's some free advice: you want them to perform? Tell them what they wanna hear.

Ginger:
You mean lie? [she exits Hut 1]

Rocky:
[sighs] Here we go again. You know what your problem is? You're... difficult!

Ginger:
Why? Because I'm honest? I care about what happens to them. Something I wouldn't expect a Lone Free Ranger to know anything about!

Rocky:
Hey, if this is the way you show it, I hope you never care about me!

Ginger:
I can assure you, I never will!

Rocky:
Good!

Ginger:
Fine!

[The pie machine has been built and Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy looks at it]

Mr. Willard Tweedy:
Ooh! That's champion, that is. What is it?

Mrs. Melisha Tweedy:
It's a pie machine, you idiot. Chickens go in, pies come out.

Mr. Willard Tweedy:
Oh! What kind of pies?

Mrs. Melisha Tweedy:
[sarcastically] Apple.

Mr. Willard Tweedy:
My favorite!

Mrs. Melisha Tweedy:
[forcefully] CHICKEN pies, you great lummox! [calmly] Imagine it! In less than a fortnight (2 weeks), every grocer's in the county will be stocked with box upon box of "Mrs Tweedy's Homemade Chicken Pies".

Mr. Willard Tweedy:
Just "Mrs"?

Mrs. Melisha Tweedy:
Woman's touch. Makes the public feel more comfortable.

Mr. Willard Tweedy:
Oh, right. How does it work? [about to pull the gearshift]

Mrs. Melisha Tweedy:
[slaps Mr. Tweedy on the hand] Get me a chicken and I'll show you.

Mr. Willard Tweedy:
I know just the one... [he walks out]

[Ginger has been strapped on the pie machine, and can't get free]

Rocky:
Yo! Baby doll!

Ginger:
Rocky!

Rocky:
I'm coming! [begins slipping on the metal] I'm still coming!

Ginger:
Come on! Stop this thing!

Rocky:
I'm getting there! [The machine releases Ginger. He makes a grab at her, but misses as she falls down a chute.] Oh, sh*t!

Ginger:
ROCKY!

Rocky:
I'll be down there before you can say– [Mixed vegetables tumble towards him] Mixed vegetables?! [is knocked down the chute]