Quotes

[Babs has fainted from a near-death experience]

Babs: All me life flashed before me eyes.

[disappointed]

Babs: It was really borin'.

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?

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

Babs: Are those the only choices?

Fetcher: Birds of a feather flop together.

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.

Fetcher: It's raining hen.

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.

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 squawks to attract the farmer's attention]

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.

[on the chickens' plane before take-off]

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!

Rocky: What's eating Grandpa?

[last lines]

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: [Presenting himself] You see, I'm a traveller by nature. I did that whole barnyard thing for a while but I couldn't really get into it.

[to one of the chickens]

Rocky: Hi, how are you?

[she swoons and faints, Rocky continues]

Rocky: Nope! The open road, that's more my style. Yep, just give me a pack on my back and point me where the wind blows. In fact, you know what they call me back home? You're gonna love this: The Lone Free Ranger.

[watching the chickens trying to fly]

Nick: What's this caper, love?

Babs: We're *flyin'*!

Nick: [cynically] Obviously.

[pause]

Nick: Flamin' 'ell! Hey, look at this, Fetch.

Fetcher: They're gonna kill themselves... wanna watch?

[Nick thinks for a moment]

Nick: Yeah, all right.

[after the reason for Rocky's flying ability is discovered]

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

[Oft-repeated line]

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

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

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

Babs: Hmm. *That* might work.

[telling Rocky about a caper]

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.

[after the chickens have escaped in The Crate and the pie machine has exploded]

Mr. Tweedy: I told you they was organised.

[escaping from circus, after being shot out of a cannon]

Rocky: [shouts] Freeeeeeeeeeeedom.

Rocky: [lands in dough] D'oh. Get it? Dough!

Ginger: I'm stuck!

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

[encouraging after a failed day of "flying"]

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.

[after Rocky leaves]

Babs: Perhaps he just went on holiday.

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

[Bunty grabs Babs' knitting, throws it on the ground, and stomps on it]

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

[Mac shoves Bunty]

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

[other chickens start fighting]

Rocky: Listen. Shh. You hear that?

[silence]

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

[he leaves]

Babs: He must have very good hearing.

[Bunty is about to be shot out of a slingshot]

Fetcher: The tension's killing me.

Nick: It's gonna kill her.

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

[finding the chickens building the Crate]

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

Ginger: I thought you were teaching us how to fly.

Rocky: That's what I'm doing.

Ginger: Isn't there usually some flapping involved?

Rocky: Hey, do I tell you how to lay eggs?

Mac: Right, we tried going under the fence, and that didn't work. So the plan now is, we go over it.

[Unveils the model catapult]

Mac: [Holds up turnip chicken] This is us, right? We go in here, like this, wind her up, and let her go!

[Catapult sends turnip flying into wall; chickens cluck frantically]

Hen: And what brings you to England, Mr Rhodes?

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

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

Ginger: We need some more things.

Nick: Right you are, miss.

[opens suitcase and pulls out thimbles]

Nick: How about this quality, handcrafted tea set?

Ginger: No, thanks.

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

Ginger: It's love...

Nick: [holding a shuttlecock] Or this little number that's all the rage in the most fashionable coops in Paree? Simply pop it on like so...

[pops it on Ginger's head, feathers side up]

Nick: And as the French hens say, "Voilá!"

Fetcher: That is French.

Nick: It's two hats in one, miss. For parties...

[turns shuttlecock over]

Nick: For weddings. Oh, madame! This makes you look like a vision, like a dream.

Fetcher: Like a duck!

Mac: [very rapidly, with a thick Scottish accent] Thrust! I went over my calculations, hen, and I forgot the key element missing is thrust!

Rocky: [after a long pause] I didn't get a word of that.

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

[shouts]

Mac: Thrust!

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

Ginger: She said we need more thrust.

Rocky: Oh, thrust! Of course we need thrust. Why, thrust and flying are, well, like this.

[crosses fingers]

Rocky: See, that's flying and that's thrust.

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. Melicia Tweedy will be poor no longer.

Rocky: Guys, you are without a doubt the sneakiest, most light-fingered thieving parasites I've ever met.

Nick: [flattered] Oh, don't, don't. Stop it!

Fetcher: I've gone bright red.

[Rocky is hiding uncomfortably beneath Ginger's nest while the farmer is searching for him]

Ginger: Comfortable?

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

Ginger: You know what the problem is? The fences aren't just round the farm. They're up here, in you heads. There's a better place out there, somewhere beyond that hill, and it has wide open places, and lots of trees... and grass. Can you imagine that? Cool, green grass.

Hen: Who feeds us?

Ginger: We feed ourselves.

Hen: Where's 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 morning head count, no farmers, no dogs and coops and keys, and no fences.

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.

Rocky: What's happening? What's going on?

Babs: They took Ginger, Mr. Rhodes! They're taking her to the chop!

Fowler: Well, what are you waiting for, laddie? Fly over there. Save her!

Rocky: Of course - no, No! That's just what they'd expect. But I say we give them the old element of surprise.

Fowler: And catch Jerry with his trousers down. I like the sound of that. What's the plan?

Rocky: The plan... um, the plan. The plan! Uh - Babs, give me that thing. Bunty, give me a boost.

Fowler: Keep pedalling! We're not there yet! You can't see paradise if you don't pedal!

Ginger: Heaven help us.

Rocky: [to Ginger] Over in America, we have this rule: if you want to motivate someone, don't mention death.

Ginger: Funny, the rule here is, always tell the truth.

Rocky: Boy, that's been working like a real charm, hasn't it? Let me give you some free advice: you want them to perform? Tell them what they want to hear.

Ginger: You mean lie?

Ginger: Perhaps I didn't explain our situation properly. We lay eggs; day in and day out. And when we can't lay anymore. They kill us.

Rocky: It's a cruel world. May as well get used to it.

Ginger: What part of 'They kill us' do you not understand?

Rocky: [apparently training the chickens] And left, two, three, and right, two, three and... stop right there.

[chickens stop, confused]

Rocky: Yeah, down

[chickens stoop]

Rocky: Yeah, yeah, make little circles

[chickens start to spin and Ginger looks up, only to see Rocky getting massaged]

Rocky: That's it, faster, faster... yeah, that hits the spot...

Ginger: [walks over and clears throat; other chickens wander away, embarrassed] I thought you were going to teach us how to fly.

Rocky: That's what I'm doing.

Ginger: 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 around in circles.

[motions to the spinning chickens behind her]

Rocky: What the - ? Hey! Cut it out! You're making me dizzy!

[chickens stop and start stumbling dizzily]

Rocky: [to Ginger] I think they're ready to fly now.

Ginger: [annoyed] Good. Because they certainly can't *walk* anymore.

Rocky: Ouch! What happened to my wing?

Ginger: You took a rather nasty fall.

Mac: [in fast-paced, thick Scottish accent] And sprained the Anterior Tendon connecting your Radius to your Humerus. I gave it a wee bit of a tweak, and wrapped her up.

Rocky: Was that English?

Mac: [examining a diagram] I thought we tried going under the fence.

[Ginger flips it]

Mac: Ah! Over! Right!

Nick: Imagine a world before chickens - a chickenless, eggless world...

Fetcher: I am - and it's horrible.