Mr. Fox: [in a cellar with many of the other animal characters] Allright, let's start planning. Who knows shorthand?
[Linda raises her hand]
Mr. Fox: Great! Linda! Lutra Lutra - you got some dry paper?
[she holds up some paper]
Mr. Fox: Here we go. Mole! Talpa Europea! What d'you got?
Mole: I can see in the dark.
Mr. Fox: That's incredible! We can use that! Linda?
Linda Otter: Got it.
Mr. Fox: Rabbit! Oryctolagus Cuniculus!
Rabbit: I'm fast.
Mr. Fox: You bet you are. Linda?
Linda Otter: Got it.
Mr. Fox: Beaver! Castor Fiber!
Beaver: I can chew through wood.
Mr. Fox: Amazing! Linda!
Linda Otter: Got it.
Mr. Fox: Badger! Meles Meles!
Badger: Demolitions expert.
Mr. Fox: What? Since when?
Mrs. Fox: [Mr. Fox and Kylie are sneaking through the Fox family's kitchen, Kylie is wearing a bandit mask; Mrs. Fox sees them from a doorway] Another book party?
Mr. Fox: [surprised] Oh! I didn't see you sitting in the dark over there.
Mr. Fox: Yeah! No actually, there's a fire. I just got the call; they said maybe it's arson. I've got to interview the marshal and see if it's...
Mrs. Fox: Kylie,
[turns on the light]
Mrs. Fox: is he telling the truth?
Kylie: [turns to Mr. Fox] I... I don't want to be put into the middle of this!
Mr. Fox: Thanks, Kylie.
Mrs. Fox: [notices something off to her right] Why is he wearing that bandit hat?
[points to Kris, who is halfway out the door leading to the kitchen from the starwell leading upstairs; Kris pulls his bandit hat up to unobscure his face]
Mr. Fox: His ears were cold. He's not with us.
Mr. Fox: Go back to bed.
[Kris leaves and closes the door]
Mrs. Fox: If what I think is happening is happening - it better not be.
Mr. Fox: [looking at an electric fence] Huh. This could be difficult.
Squirrel: It's fatal for humans, but we got enough fur to keep the voltage from getting to us. Let's go!
Ash: You should probably put your bandit hat on now. Personally, I- I don't have one, but I modified this tube sock.
[they put on their 'hats']
Kristofferson: We look good.
Ash: Yeah, we do.
Mr. Fox: [sighs] Who am I, Kylie?
Kylie: Who how? What now?
Mr. Fox: Why a fox? Why not a horse, or a beetle, or a bald eagle? I'm saying this more as, like, existentialism, you know? Who am I? And how can a fox ever be happy without, you'll forgive the expression, a chicken in its teeth?
Kylie: I don't know what you're talking about, but it sounds illegal.
Mr. Fox: Honey, I am seven fox years old. My father died at seven and a half. I don't want to live in a hole anymore, and I'm going to do something about it.
[tears into his toast in an animalistic manner]
Badger: In summation, I think you just got to not do it, man. That's all.
Mr. Fox: I understand what you're saying, and your comments are valuable, but I'm gonna ignore your advice.
Badger: The cuss you are.
Mr. Fox: The cuss am I? Are you cussing with me?
Badger: No, you cussing with me?
Mr. Fox: Don't cussing point at me!
Badger: If you're gonna cuss with somebody, you're not gonna cuss with me, you little cuss!
Mr. Fox: You're not gonna cuss with me!
[Both start snarling at each other, and then settle down]
Mr. Fox: Just buy the tree.
Mr. Fox: [Mr. Fox, Ash, Kris, and Kylie are on a motorcycle, and Mr. Fox refers to a quadruped wolf at the edge of a snowy forest] I don't think he speaks English or Latin.
Mr. Fox: [loudly, to the wolf] Pensez-vous que l'hiver sera rude?
Mr. Fox: [aside] I'm asking if he thinks we're in for a hard winter.
[Coach Skip is teaching Kristofferson the rules of Whackbat]
Coach Skip: Basically, there's three grabbers, three taggers, five twig runners, and a player at Whackbat. Center tagger lights a pine cone and chucks it over the basket and the whack-batter tries to hit the cedar stick off the cross rock. Then the twig runners dash back and forth until the pine cone burns out and the umpire calls hotbox. Finally, you count up however many score-downs it adds up to and divide that by nine.
Kristofferson: Got it.
Beaver's Son: We don't like you and we hate your dad. Now grab some of that mud, chew it in your mouth, and swallow it.
Ash: I'm not gonna eat mud!
Beaver's Son: Cuss yeah you are.
[he picks up a large glob of mud and shoves it in Ash's face. Ash makes a gagging sound but does not react further]
Kristofferson: [takes off his shoes] Don't do that.
Beaver's Son: Why'd you take your shoes off?
Kristofferson: So I don't break your nose when I kick it.
[he proceeds to take Beaver's son out with some precision karate moves, ending with a throwdown in the mud. Beaver's son walks away quietly sobbing]
Ash: I can fight my own fights.
Kristofferson: [turns to Ash] No you can't...
Mrs. Fox: Excuse me? Am I being flirted with by a psychotic rat?
Bean's Son: Dad is on fire!
Ash: There's a lot of attitudes going on around here... don't let me get one.
Mr. Fox: A Titanium Card?
Mr. Fox: How did you qualify for this?
Kylie: I pay my bills on time.
Mr. Fox: That was pure wild animal craziness.
Rat: The boy is being held in an apple crate on top of a gun cabinet in the attic of Bean Annex.
Mr. Fox: Would you have told me if I hadn't killed you first?
Mrs. Fox: This story's too predictable.
Mr. Fox: Predictable? Really? Then, how does it end?
Mrs. Fox: In the end, we all die. Unless you change.
Mr. Fox: The whole time I was putting paw over paw with your mother digging beside me, and I thought to myself: I wonder who this little boy...
Ash: Or girl!
Mr. Fox: Right, 'cause at the time we didn't know. I wonder who this little boy or girl is gonna be? Ash, I'm so glad he was you.
Mr. Fox: Redemption? Sure. But in the end, he's just another dead rat in a garbage pail behind a Chinese restaurant.
Petey: [singing around a campfire with his banjo] 'Bout a handsome little fox let me sing you folks a yarn. / Hey, diddle-dee daddle-da doddle-do doodle-dum! / 'Twas a splendid little feller full of wit 'n' grace 'n' charm. / Say, zippy-zee zappa-za yappy-yo doodle-dum! / Well, like any little critter needin' vittels for his littl'uns, / Well, he stole, and he cheated, and he lied just to survive. / With a doodle-dum diddle-die doddle-diddle doodle-dum!
Other singers: Doodle-dum diddle-die doddle-diddle doodle-dum!
Petey: Zippy-zo zippy-zay zippy-zappy zoopy-zee!
Other singers: Zippy-zo zippy-zay zippy-zappy zoopy-zee!
Petey: Doo-dah doo-day day...
Petey: Let me take a little tick now to color in the scene: / 'Cross the valley lived three yokels name of Boggis, Bunce, and Bean. / Now these three crazy jackies had our hero on the run. / Shot the tail off the cuss with a fox-shootin' gun. / But that stylish little fox was as clever as a whip / Dug as quick as a gopher that was hyper-ack-a-tive.
Other singers: Yeah!
Petey: Now those three farmers sit 'twhere there's a hole 'twas once a hill. / Singin' diddle-dee daddle-da doddle-do doodle-dum! / And as far as I can reckon they're a-settin' up there still. Singin' zippy-zee zappa-za yappy-yo...
Franklin Bean: [standing behind him] What are you singing, Petey?
Petey: Just... just making it up as I went- as I went along, really.
Franklin Bean: That's just weak songwriting. You wrote a bad song, Petey!
Kristofferson: Uh, do you mind if I slide my bed roll slightly out from under the train set? It's hard to sleep in that corkscrew position.
Ash: [in the top bunk] There's a lot of attitudes going on around here. Don't let me get one.
Kristofferson: No, it's only just my spinal cord getting...
Ash: Sleep wherever you want, man. Here, take my bed! I'll just uh... I'll crawl under the bookcase! Who cares if I get splinters in my ears?
Kristofferson: Never mind.
Ash: Oh, you gonna pout about it? 'Cuz I've had it up to HERE
[gestures with his hand]
Ash: with the "sad houseguest" routine.
[Ash turns off the light and continues to read his White Cape comic in bed]
Kristofferson: Good night.
[he lies down under the train set and begins to quietly sob; Ash comes down, turns on the train, Kris gets up and they watch it]
Beaver's Son: [lays down a box of supplies during a Science lab class] Why's your cousin such a wet sandwich?
Kristofferson: I beg your pardon?
Beaver's Son: What's that mean?
Kristofferson: That means that I don't understand what you just said. A wet sandwich?
Beaver's Son: Yeah! A wet sandwich. He's too short, he dresses like a girl, he's
[makes a motion with his hands]
Beaver's Son: different.
Kristofferson: Are you a bully? You're starting to sound like a bully.
Beaver's Son: Watch this.
[he takes a spoonful of yellow powder and drops it into the bubbling liquid over a Bunsen burner; it explodes and covers both of them in the yellow substance]
Kristofferson: That's... you just destroyed the whole experiment. We'd better extinguish this magnesium.
[they raise their safety goggles]
Kristofferson: Stand back.
[Kris sprays the fire with an extinguisher]
Agnes: [watching from a few feet away] Wow.
Kristofferson: [whistles] Whew!
Agnes: [to Kris] Hmm. I like your ears.
[gestures to her own]
Kristofferson: M... Mine?
Kristofferson: Thank you! I like your... spots.
Agnes: Really? I used to cover them up, but, you know...
Ash: You're supposed to be *my* lab partner.
Agnes: I am!
Ash: No you're not. You're disloyal.
Mrs. Fox: [to Mr. Fox] I love you, but I should have never married you.
Mr. Fox: Here, put this bandit hat on.
Mr. Fox: Ash, are you mad at me? I understand if you are and I'm sorry; I wouldn't have ever involved your cousin if I had realized you would feel this way. It was only ever just because he's kind of a natural... I mean... I mean look at him dig!
[View changes to Kristofferson, Kylie and Mrs. Fox digging, with Kristofferson leading with athletic determination, then switches back]
Mr. Fox: Anyway, I'm sorry if you feel any...
Ash: [as he shoves dirt in his ears] You know what? I'm just gonna put dirt in my ears. Ow... That's better. I can't hear you now, but keep talking.
Ash: Can I ask you a question?
Kristofferson: You may.
Ash: What's the point of sitting on the floor with your legs twisted into a pretzel talking to yourself for an hour and forty-five minutes? It's - it's weird.
Kristofferson: My father and I first started practicing meditation together when I was...
Ash: Yeah? Well, that's great. But I worry more about what that does for your reputation than whether or not you have beagle ticks or not.
Kristofferson: I don't. Nor pelt lice.
Mr. Fox: One of those slovenly farmers is probably wearing my tail for a necktie.
Mr. Fox: They say all foxes are slightly allergic to linoleum, but it's cool to the paw - try it. They say my tail needs to be dry cleaned twice a month, but now it's fully detachable - see? They say our tree may never grow back, but one day, something will. Yes, these crackles are made of synthetic goose and these giblets come from artificial squab and even these apples look fake - but at least they've got stars on them. I guess my point is, we'll eat tonight, and we'll eat together. And even in this not particularly flattering light, you are without a doubt the five and a half most wonderful wild animals I've ever met in my life. So let's raise our boxes - to our survival.
Kylie: Apple juice... apple juice flood...
Franklin Bean: What are you singing, Petey?
Petey: Erm... I just kind of made it up as I went along, really.
Franklin Bean: That's just weak songwriting! You wrote a bad song, Petey!
Mrs. Fox: If what I think is happening, IS happening... It better not be.
Mr. Fox: [addressing the others from atop a pile of bricks] In a way, I'm almost glad that flood interrupted us because I don't like the toast I was giving. I'm gonna start over.
[Mr. Fox switches on his radio. "Le Grand Choral" plays. He gestures as if holding a wine glass]
Mr. Fox: When I look down this table, with the exquisite feast set before us, I see: two terrific lawyers, a skilled pediatrician, a wonderful chef, a savvy real estate agent, an excellent tailor, a crack accountant, a gifted musician, pretty good minnow fisherman, and possibly the best landscape painter working on the scene today. Maybe a few of you might even read my column from time to time, Who knows? I tend to doubt it.
Mr. Fox: I also see a room full of wild animals.
[He approaches their groups as he speaks]
Mr. Fox: Wild animals, with true natures and pure talents. Wild animals with scientific-sounding Latin names that mean something about our DNA. Wild animals each with his own strengths and weaknesses due to his or her species.
[re-ascends the brick pile]
Mr. Fox: Anyway, I think it may very well be all the beautiful differences among us that might just give us the tiniest glimmer of a chance of saving my nephew, and letting me make it up to you for getting us into this, this crazy... whatever it is. I don't know. It's just a thought. Thank you for listening. Cheers, everyone.
[mimics draining the imaginary glass and smashing it to the floor]
Kylie: Lets eat!
[All eyes turn to Kylie]
Kylie: What? I was just playin' along with the bit he was doing...
Ash: [points to a sign Agnes carries] What's that stand for?
Agnes: Huh? It's for, uh, it's for pep... pep.
Ash: It's a K.
Coach Skip: [runs into frame, grabs a bottle from the cooler; to players] Come on, now! Look alive!
Coach Skip: 'Atta boy.
[runs out of frame]
Agnes: [to Ash, about Kristofferson] We're going steady.
[Ash exclaims angrily]
Mr. Fox: I spotted a couple of broken burglar bars underneath the back door to Bean's secret cider cellar.
Kylie: We're breaking into Bean's *house*?
Mr. Fox: Cellar.
Kylie: Where he *lives*?
Mr. Fox: Where he keeps the cider.
Ash: [appears behind them] *Below* where he lives.
Mr. Fox: [takes] Where'd you come from? Why don't you go back to the tree and do your homework?
Ash: I want to help you steal some cider.
Mr. Fox: *We're* going to a *book* party, and keep your mouth shut about any cider, because no one ever said that! Now get out of here!
Ash: But, ah...
Mr. Fox: But nothing! You're gonna get me in a lot of trouble! Besides, you're too little and uncoordinated.
[Ash frowns, twitches, and spits]
Mr. Fox: One, two, three!
[Mr. Fox points in the direction of the tree. Ash stomps off, growling]
Rat: Y'all are trespassin' now. *Illegally*.
Ash: [Mr. Fox has just lost his tail in the shooting] It'll grow back, won't it?
Kylie: Tails don't grow back.
Ash: Tails don't grow back?
Kylie: Uh-uh. 'Cept for lizards.
Mr. Fox: Tails don't grow back. I'm gonna be tail-less for the rest of my life.
Ash: Well, anyway, it's not half as bad as double pneumonia, right? I mean his dad's got one foot in the grave and three feet on a banana peel. That's a lot worse than just a...
Kristofferson: [ricochets an acorn around the room, which lands in the teacup he is holding. The others glare in amazement] Excuse me, everyone. I'm gonna go meditate for half an hour.
Mrs. Fox: [Kristofferson has just departed after Ash's comment] You have got twenty-nine minutes to come up with a proper apology.
Ash: [snaps, gestures wildly] Me? *Me* have an apology? He gets a bandit hat? He just got here, and he gets a bandit hat? Where's *my* bandit hat? Why didn't *I* get shot at? It's because, you... you... you think I'm no good at anything! Well, maybe you're right, thanks.
[stomps away angrily and slams door upon exit]
Kylie: [sighs, to Mr. Fox] Told ya not to bring him.
Kristofferson: Divide that by nine please!
Mrs. Fox: [to Ash] We're all different.
[indicates Mr. Fox]
Mrs. Fox: Especially him. But there's something kind of fantastic about that, isn't there?
Ash: What's that white stuff around his mouth?
Kylie: I think he eats soap.
Mr. Fox: That's not soap.
Kylie: Wha- why does he have that...
Mr. Fox: He's rabid. With rabies.
Mole: I just want to see... a little sunshine.
Mr. Fox: But you're nocturnal, Phil. Your eyes barely open on a good day.
Mole: I'm sick of your double talk, we have rights!
Mr. Fox: [after animals have dug through the wall] You scared the cuss out of us!
Badger: A lot of good animals...
Badger: ... are probably going to die, because of you! Half the woods have been obliterated, nobody can get out, and right now, my wife is at the bottom of a flint mine with no food, no water, and 27 starving animal brats!
[Mr. Fox prepares for the final showdown with the farmers]
Mr. Fox: Your tractors uprooted my tree. Your posse hunted my family. Your gunmen kidnapped my nephew. Your rat insulted my wife - and you shot off my tail. I'm not leaving here without that necktie.