Charlotte's Web (1973)
Avery Arable: Can I have a pig too, Pop?
Arable: I only distribute pigs to early risers, and Fern was up at daylight trying to rid the world of injustice.
Wilbur: [singing] Isn't it great, that I articulate? / Isn't it grand? That you can understand / I don't snort, I don't eep, I don't even squeak or squawk / When I wanna say something, I open up and talk, I can talk, I can talk, talk, talk, I can...
Ram: Why don't you keep it down?
Wilbur: I can talk!
Wilbur: What are they? And where are you?
Charlotte: Salutations is my fancy way of saying hello.
[Wilbur is eyeing Charlotte's egg sac]
Charlotte: I'm versatile.
Wilbur: Does versatile mean full of eggs?
Charlotte: [chuckling] Certainly not. Versatile means I can change with ease from one thing to another.
Charlotte: Does anybody know how to spell it?
Goose: I think it's T double-E double-R double-R double-I double-F double-I double-C, C, C.
Charlotte: What kind of an acrobat do you think I am? It would take me all night to write a word like that into my web.
Ram: I would advise you not to consult geese in matters of spelling. The word is spelled T-E-R-R-I-F-I-C.
Goose: I still think it's prettier spelled T-double E-double R-...
Charlotte: Please! Let me spell it my way.
[Charlotte is looking for a new message to write in her web]
Lamb: How's about "Pig Supreme"?
Charlotte: Mmmm... no good. It sounds like a rich dessert.
[Templeton walks past with an apple core towards the trough, and Charlotte glares at Templeton]
Goose: How about terrific, terrific, terrific?
Charlotte: Cut that down to one terrific, and it will do nicely. I think "terrific" might impress Zuckerman.
Wilbur: But Charlotte, I'm not terrific.
Charlotte: You're terrific as far as I am concerned.
[Templeton, while holding a piece of orange in his mouth, smacks Wilbur's face with his tail and walks off to the trough]
Charlotte: [after glaring at Templeton] Does anybody know how to spell it?
Goose: I think it's T, double-E, double-R, double-R, double-I, double-F, double-I, double-C, C, C!
Charlotte: [Charlotte's remark, from shock back to the goose] What kind of acrobat do you think I am?
Goose: [to Templeton] If Wilbur is killed and his trough stands empty day after day, you'll grow so thin we can look right through your stomach and see objects on the other side!
[when Templeton sees all the food on the ground at the fair]
Templeton: The goose was right, this fair is rat's paradise! Bye-bye, my "humble" Wilbur. Fare thee well, Charlotte, you old schemer! This will be a night to remember!
Ram: Sheep do not play with pigs.
Wilbur: Why not?
Ram: Oh, it's a matter of status. Sheep, for instance, are highly regarded by Zuckerman, because we furnish him with good quality wool. With pigs, on the other hand, it's just a matter of time.
Wilbur: Time to what?
Ram: Till you're fat enough to kill.
Wilbur: What did you say?
Ram: Oh, everybody knows it. In the fall, you'll be turned into smoked bacon and ham. Just as soon as cold weather sets in, they'll kill you.
Wilbur: Will you play with me?
Goose: I'm no flibberty-ibberty-gibbit! I'm staying here and hatching my goslings.
[the family arrives at the farm to take Wilbur to the fair]
Homer Zuckerman: There he is!
Arable: That's some pig.
Avery Arable: He's terrific.
Lurvy: He's radiant.
Mrs. Zuckerman: Well, he's clean anyway. That buttermilk certainly helped.
[after the goose's eggs have hatched]
Wilbur: Congratulations! How many are there?
Goose: There are seven.
Charlotte: Seven is a lucky number.
Goose: Luck has nothing to do with it! It was good management and hard work!
Templeton: [looking at a solitary unhatched egg] Why didn't, uh, this one hatch?
Goose: [gloomily] It's a dud, I guess.
Templeton: What are you going to do with it?
Goose: [sternly] You can have it. Throw it away and add it to that nasty collection of yours! Be careful - a rotten egg can be a regular stink bomb!
Templeton: [patting the egg] I know what I'm doing. I handle stuff like this all the time.
[Templeton rolls the egg away]
Templeton: [reading the clipping] It says "Crunchy."
Charlotte: No, that's wrong. It could start Zuckerman thinking about crunchy bacon.
Charlotte: [sternly] Wilbur, I forbid you to faint!
Charlotte: Humble. Humble has two meanings: it means "not proud" and and it also means "near the ground." That's Wilbur all over.
Wilbur: Are you writers?
Charlotte's daughters: No, but we will be when we grow up.
Wilbur: Then write this in your webs, when you learn: This hallowed doorway was once the home of Charlotte. She was brilliant, beautiful, and loyal to the end. Her memory will be treasured forever.
Charlotte's daughters: Ooh, that would take us a lifetime.
Wilbur: A lifetime. That's what we have.
Narrator: Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.
Charlotte: Trust me, Wilbur. People are very gullible. They'll believe anything they see in print.
Charlotte: Chin up, chin up / Everybody loves a happy face / Wear it, share it / It'll brighten up the darkest place / Twinkle, sparkle / Let a little sunshine in / You'll be on the right side, looking at the bright side / Up with your chinny-chin-chin.
Narrator: Wilbur's stomach was empty and his mind was full. Well, when your stomach is empty and your mind is full, It's hard to fall asleep. But sleep and Wilbur finally found each other.
Wilbur: I think you're beautiful.
Charlotte: Well, I am pretty. Nearly all spiders are good looking. I'm not as flashy as some, but I'll do.
[Templeton returns from a night of overeating]
Templeton: [hiccups] I'm back...
[Charlotte and Wilbur glare at him]
Templeton: What a night! Never have I seen such leavings! Everything well ripened, seasoned with the passage of time and the heat of the day... Oh, it was rich, my friends. Rich!
Charlotte: You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Templeton. It would serve you right if you had an acute attack of indigestion.
[Templeton hiccups agains and pats his stomach]
Templeton: My stomach can handle anything...
Wilbur: Templeton, if you weren't so dopey, you'd notice that Charlotte has made an egg sac.
[Templeton gazes toward the ceiling and sees Charlotte's egg sac]
Templeton: [hiccup] Hooray for Charlotte.
Wilbur: She's going to become a mother. For your information, there are 514 eggs in that peachy, little sac.
Templeton: [sarcastically] This has been a night...
[Templeton crawls over to Wilbur's pen and hiccups again]
[a fly lands in Charlotte's web]
Charlotte: Just a minute, Wilbur.
[she climbs up and wraps the fly]
Charlotte: He'll make a perfect breakfast for me.
Wilbur: [shuddering] Ooooh. You mean you eat flies?
Charlotte: Why, certainly. I eat anything that gets caught in my web. I have to live, don't I?
Wilbur: [nervously] Why, yes, of course. Do they taste good?
Charlotte: Course, I don't really *eat* them, I drink their blood. I love blood.
Wilbur: [gasps] Oh, please don't say things like that.
Charlotte: Why not? It's true.
Wilbur: But it's *cruel*.
Charlotte: Well, you can't talk. You have your meals brought to you in a pail. Nobody feeds me. I live by my wits.
Wilbur: It just seems an odd sort of diet.
Charlotte: Do you realize that if I didn't eat them, bugs would get so numerous, they'd destroy the earth? Spiders are really very useful creatures.
Charlotte: [after Templeton ignored and distracted Charlotte's meeting, he continues to look for food as a cat approaches the fence] Why don't you try over by the fence, Templeton?
Charlotte: [innocently] Lurvy dropped half a sandwich from his lunch there.
Templeton: Why, thank you Charlotte...
[goes over to the fence, the cat sees him and tries to pounce over the fence; he flees and the cat leaves]
Templeton: [calling] That wasn't nice, Charlotte!
Charlotte: Perhaps next time I call a meeting to discuss Wilbur's safety, you'll see fit to attend.
Henry Fussy: When I heard Zuckerman's famous pig was here, I came looking for you.
Fern Arable: Well, I'm *not* Zuckerman's famous pig!
Charlotte: Do you want a friend?
Wilbur: Yes! I want a friend, but I want to live, too.
Narrator: And so, Wilbur came home to his beloved manure pile in the barn cellar. Around his neck, he wore a medal of honor. In his mouth, he held a sack of spider's eggs.
[Mr. Zuckerman takes Wilbur's medal, polishes it, and hangs it over the cellar doorway]
Narrator: Wilbur no longer worried about being killed, for he knew that Mr. Zuckerman would keep him as long as he lived.
Narrator: The autumn days grew short. One evening, just before Christmas, snow began falling, and cold settled on the world.
Narrator: Once she had promised Wilbur she was going to save his life, Charlotte was determined to keep her promise. Day after day, she hung from her web and waited patiently for an idea to come to her.
Narrator: People had come to see Wilbur when he was "Some Pig", and came back again now that he was "Terrific".
Fair M. C.: Ladies and gentlemen, we now present Mr. Homer L. Zuckerman and his distinguished pig!
[audience cheers and applauds]
Fair M. C.: The fame of this unique animal has spread to the far corners of the earth, attracting many vaulable tourists to our great state. You will all recall that day last summer when the writing appeared mysteriously on the spider's web in Mr. Zuckerman's barn. This miracle has never been explained. All we know is that we are dealing with supernatural forces here, and we should all be proud and grateful. In the words of the spider's web, this is "Soooome Pig".
[audience applauds and cheers]
Goose: You have a good home home here. Why aren't you happy happy happy?
Wilbur: I miss Fern.
Homer Zuckerman: [after Wilbur is awarded his bronze medal at the fair] Thank you, thank you, everybody. He's some pig, and if I have anything to do with it, he's gonna live to a ripe old age!
Fair M. C.: [after the quartet sings at the fair] On behalf of the governors of the fair, I have the honor of awarding a special prize of $25 to Mr. Zuckerman.
[audience cheers and applauds]
Fair M. C.: And this handsome bronze medal suitably engraved, to this radiant, this terrific, this - humble pig.
[audience cheers and applauds as the medal is hung around Wilbur's neck]
Templeton: What are you doing?
Templeton: Why so late?
Charlotte: I'll be lucky if I'm finished by sunup. Go to sleep, Templeton.
Templeton: Good night, Charlotte.
Charlotte: Good night, Templeton.
Homer Zuckerman: Lurvy?
Lurvy: Yes, sir?
Homer Zuckerman: Make a large crate, and paint it green with gold letters.
Lurvy: Uh, what should the letters say?
Homer Zuckerman: They should say uh, "Zuckerman's Famous Pig".
Lurvy: Yes, sir!
Henry Fussy: Look at Wilbur. He's got tears in his eyes.
Avery Arable: Probably having such a good time he hates to go home.
Lurvy: He's not sick, is he?
Homer Zuckerman: Probably just homesick. I guess we all are.
Charlotte: The autumn days grow short and cold; / It's Christmas time again. / Then snows of winter slowly melt. / The days grow short, / And then... / He turns the seasons around, / And so she changes... her gown: / Mother Earth... and Father Time.
[words are slowly being reduced to a whisper]
Charlotte: How very special are we... / For just a moment... to be... / Part of life's... eternal... rhyme.
Narrator: [Six weeks later] Wilbur was what the farmers call a "spring pig", which means that he was born in springtime. By the time he was six weeks old, he'd grown so big, you never would have noticed he started life as a runt. Wilbur had gotten so big, in fact, that John Arable decided that it was time for him to stop being a pet, and start being a pig.
Arable: [At the Arable House] He's got to go, Fern.
Fern Arable: Papa, no!
Arable: You've had your fun raising a baby pig. But Wilbur's got to be sold. He's not a baby anymore and his brothers and sisters are already sold.
Fern Arable: [Fern starts crying and runs outside] Oh Papa!
Fern Arable: [John Arable lifts runt from the newborn litter of piglets] Papa! Papa, stop! Don't kill it! It's unfair.
Arable: Fern! You have got to learn to control yourself!
Fern Arable: [crying] Control myself? This is a matter of life and death, and you talk about controlling myself?
Arable: Now Fern, I know much more about raising pigs than you do. A weakling makes trouble, now run along.
Fern Arable: But it's unfair if i had been very small would you have killed me?
Arable: Oh, certainly not! A little girl is one thing, a... runty pig is another.
Fern Arable: [Sobbing] I don't see any difference! This is the most terrible case of injustice that I ever heard of!
Arable: Oh, now i got a good mind to let you raise this pig, and then you'll see what trouble a pig can be.
Fern Arable: Oh Papa, would you please?
Arable: [Hands runt piglet to Fern] Alright he's yours, Saved from an untimely death
Fern Arable: Oh, look at him, he's absolutely perfect! It's name is... Wilbur.
Arable: A pig doesn't grow fat on kisses and hugs, Fern. Now take him inside and feed him.
Narrator: [Rooster crows Cow moos]
Narrator: This old world is filled with wonders, but to me there is no place more wonderful than a farm in springtime, when the sun is just lifting from sky lines. The air is so sweet and everywhere you look, little miricles are happening. Buds swell into blossoms, Eggs hatch, Young are born.
[shows duck and ducklings swimming in puddle]
Narrator: Everything is off to a fresh start and life is good and busy and brand new.
[hen and chicks pass by]
Narrator: Around the barnyard, big families are a blessing. The more the merrier.
[litter of ten piglets are suckling from a sow, A tiny white runt appears]
Narrator: Root and grunt, push and shove, room for everyone. Well, everyone except for the runt.
[runt squealing, Arable picks up his ax]
Narrator: John Arable had been up since daybreak. He'd seen the size of the pig, and he wasn't looking forward to what had to be done...
Fern Arable: [carrying a bowl of eggs]
Fern Arable: Good morning, Papa!
Arable: [looks at Fern] Morning, Fern!
Fern Arable: Oh Wilbur!
Narrator: The next day was the saddest one Fern and Wilbur had ever known, for the young pig was taken from his home under the apple tree, and sold down the road to Fern's uncle, Homer L. Zuckerman.
Fern Arable: [crying] Goodbye Wilbur, Goodbye Wlbur, Goodbye...
Fern Arable: [Enters kitchen and puts eggs on the kitchen counter] Here are the eggs, Mama!
Mrs. Arable: [Flipping pancakes] Thank you, Fern!
Fern Arable: What's Papa doing with that ax?
Mrs. Arable: [Poors more batter on pancake griddle] Some pigs were born last night.
Fern Arable: What does he need an ax for?
Mrs. Arable: One of the pigs was a runt, So your father has decided to do away with it.
Fern Arable: Do away with it? You... you mean, kill it?
Mrs. Arable: Well, yes.
Fern Arable: [shocked] Just because it's smaller than the others?
Mrs. Arable: Don't yell, Fern. The pig'd probably die anyway.