Jane Horrocks: Babs

Chicken Run

Babs

Babs: [after fainting from a near-death experience] All of me life flashed before me eyes!
[disappointed]
Babs: It was really borin'.

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.

[after Rocky leaves]
Babs: Perhaps he just went on holiday.
Bunty: [grabbing Babs' knitting, throwing it on the ground, and stomping on it] 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.
[shoves Bunty]
Bunty: Don't push me, four-eyes.
[other chickens start fighting]

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'.

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: [chuckling] 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.

Ginger: [shows the poster of Rocky to the chickens] This is our way out of here.
Babs: We'll make posters?
Ginger: What's on the poster, Babs? What's *on* the poster? We'll fly out!
Babs: He must be very important to have his picture taken. What do you suppose he does?
Bunty: Isn't it obvious? He's a professional flying rooster. He flies from farm to farm giving demonstrations.
Babs: Do you suppose?
Bunty: Oh, absolutely.