[first lines, as Mr. Tweedy walks with the dogs by a flashlight, then shaking a lock, then he continues walking with the dog, followed by Ginger, looking at Mr. Tweedy and the dog, then looking at Mr. Tweedy, then he continues walking with a dog, then running to the fence, then grabbing a spoon, the dog looks at Ginger, then digging the dirt, then the flashlight appears at Ginger, then he continues walking, then he continues digging, then putting the spoon down, then crawling under, then running by a brick wall, then putting the hand out, then the chickens appear, then they all run to the fence]
[Babs whimpers, then Bunty tries to walk under the fence, then Mr. Tweedy looks around]
Bunty: I'm stuck!
[he sighs, then they all try to get Bunty out of the fence, then Ginger puts the hand on Bunty's mouth, muffled talking, then Mr. Tweedy walks with the dog]
Ginger: Get back.
[they all pull Bunty out of the fence, with Ginger pushing, then the chickens lay down, then Ginger runs away from the dog, followed by Mr. Tweedy, then the dog continues running at Ginger, then another dog runs at Ginger, chasing by the door, then the dogs walk up the stairs, then touching a gnome, then the dogs walk up, then Ginger grabs a gnome, then the dog eats the gnome's head, then the door opens, then gasping, then Mrs. Tweedy appears]
Mrs. Tweedy: Mr. Tweedy.
Mr. Tweedy: Eh?
Mrs. Tweedy: What is that chicken doing outside the fence?
Mr. Tweedy: Oh! [chuckling, grabbing Ginger] I don't know, love. I...
Mrs. Tweedy: Just deal with it. Now! [slams the door at Mr. Tweedy and Ginger]
Mr. Tweedy: [walks with Ginger to a bin, then opening a top] I'll teach you to make a fool out of me. [throws Ginger inside, then closing the top] Now let that be a lesson to the lot of ya! No chicken escapes from Tweedy's farm! [walks away, then the title card appears]
[Ginger puts a tally mark on the wall, then the chickens all sleep, getting up, yawning, leaving an egg, then grabbing the eggs, then checking things on the paper for Tuesday, then putting eggs inside, then the door opens at Ginger, with leaves blowing in, then walking outside, then pointing at the gate, then walking with Ginger, then opening a gate, then pushing Ginger by the shoe, then closing the gate, then walking in the house by hut 17, showing the paper, then they all gasp, then pushing a cart, then walking by Mr. Tweedy, then they all run backwards by attacking the chicken, then opening a gate, then putting down by the gate, then the chickens run, banging a gate, gasping, then they all hit the gate and overturn, showing the feet, then sighing, then walking, then Mr. Tweedy appears, then falling down while screaming, then closing the top, then Mrs. Tweedy shows the eggs with a pencil, drawing a line on the Egg Yield paper, then opening a door, then kicking Ginger, closing the gate, showing the paper, then they all move out, then opening a hole, then going down underground, then dinging the spoon two times, then going down by moving a cart, then using a whisk to dig out, then Ginger looks around, then climbing out, then touching a dog, flying in the pit, closing the top, then kicking Ginger, closing the door, then showing the paper with a chicken falling down, then they all walk with a costume of Mrs. Tweedy, then ripping the clothes, then they all scream, then the dogs attack the chickens, falling down, then they all run, then closing the gate, with the face running at the gate, then putting Ginger inside, then they all close the top, then Ginger throws the tennis ball by bouncing around, then opening a door, then kicking Ginger, then closing the gate]
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?
[they all hear a bell ring, then Fowler appears]
Fowler: Roll call! Come along now. You'll be late for parade.
[they all run]
Fowler: Pip, pip. Quick march. Left, right, left, right. Left, right, left, right! Come on. Smarten up. [pushes the chicken] Discipline! Order! Back in my R.A.F. days when the senior officer called for a scramble, you'd hop in the old crate and tallyho. Chocks away!
Bunty: Give over, you old fool. They just want to count us.
Fowler: Oh, how dare you talk back to a senior ranking officer. Why, back in my R.A.F. days...
Ginger: Fowler, they're coming. Back in line.
Fowler: Oh, right, right.
[the chicken lays on the ground, the Mrs. Tweedy walks]
Fowler: There will be a stern reprimand for you, lad. You're grounded.
[Mrs. Tweedy walks to a gate]
[Mrs. Tweedy walks in line by the chickens]
Mac: Welcome back, hen. Is there a new plan?
[Mrs. Tweedy grabs the glove, then Ginger hands the paper to Mac, then stretching the glove, then they all gulp]
Mac: I thought we tried goin' under.
[grabs the paper back and forth]
Mac: Ah! Over. Right.
[he grabs the clipboard to Mrs. Tweedy, then walking down]
Ginger: How's the egg count?
Bunty: I've laid five eggs this morning. Five! Well-chuffed with that, I was...
[he looks at the clipboard at the paper, saying, "Egg Production Record", pointing the numbers, then pointing the red circle on 282]
Mrs. Tweedy: Oh, no. Edwina.
Ginger: Bunty, why didn't you give her some of yours?
Bunty: I would have. She didn't tell me. She didn't tell anyone.
[Mr. Tweedy grabs Edwina, then walking, then closing the gate]
Babs: Oh, is Edwina off on holiday?
[they both walk, holding Edwina, with Ginger looking at Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy, holding Edwina, then taking Edwina to Mrs. Tweedy, then walking back, then opening a door, then Ginger walks up, then grabbing an ax, then starting to cut Edwina, then they all gasp, then they walk away, then sitting down, then looking at the geese flying in the sky]
Ginger: [sighing] We've got to get out of here.
Mac: Ginger! Are we still on?
Ginger: Oh, we're on, all right. Spread the word, Mac. Meeting tonight in hut 17.
[they all run away, then knocking the door, then opening a window, then closing the window, then they both walk inside, then grabbing a chicken, then closing the door, then Nick knocks on the door, then opening a window]
Nick: You called? Nick and...
Nick: At your service.
[Ginger opens the door, then they all look at Mr. Tweedy, opening a curtain]
Ginger: Over here.
[they all run, with Nick and Fetcher running by Ginger]
Ginger: We need some more things.
Nick: Right you are, miss. How about this quality handcrafted tea set?
Ginger: Uh, no.
Fetcher: Or this lovely necklace and pendant?
Ginger: It's love...
Nick: Or this beautiful little number, all the rage in the fashionable chicken coops of Paris. Simply pop it on like so, and as the French hens say, "Voila!"
Fetcher: That's French.
Nick: That's two hats in one, miss. For parties, for weddings. Oh, but madame, this makes you look like a vision, like a dream.
Fetcher: Like a duck.
Ginger: No, thank you. [grabs the birdie to Nick] We're making this. We need these things. Can you get them?
Nick: [grabs a paper] Oh, oh, oh, this is a big job, miss. Oh, bigger than others. No, no. This is gonna cost.
Ginger: Same as always. One bag of seed.
Nick: You call this pay?
Fetcher: It's chicken feed.
Ginger: What else could we give you?
Ginger: We can't give you our eggs. They're too valuable.
Nick: And so are we. [grabs a box, then tossing a bag to Ginger] After you, Fetcher.
Fetcher: After I what?
Nick: Move! [pushes Fetcher]
[cut to Mr. Tweedy, looking out the window, sitting down]
Mr. Tweedy: Hmm. Twenty-two and nine. Fourteen shillings and threepence. Seven and sixpence times three.
Mrs. Tweedy: [typing on a typewriter] Two and nine. Fourpence halfpenny. D-oh! Stupid, worthless creatures! I'm sick and tired of making minuscule profits. [looks at a book, saying, "Sick And Tired Of Making Minuscule Profits?", then moving the papers, saying, "Turn Your Chicken Farm Into A Goldmine", then opening a book, looking at the man holding a bag, with the bubble talk, saying, "I'm Rich!"]
Mr. Tweedy: Oh, yes. Those chickens are up to something.
Mrs. Tweedy: Quiet. I'm onto something.
Mr. Tweedy: [looking at Ginger, holding a candle] They're organized. I know it.
Mrs. Tweedy: I said, quiet.
Mr. Tweedy: That ginger one. I reckon she's their leader.
Mrs. Tweedy: [slamming on the table] Mr. Tweedy!
[he takes the binoculars off his eyes]
Mrs. Tweedy: I may finally have found a way to make us some real money around here, and what are you on about? Ridiculous notions of escaping chickens.
Mr. Tweedy: But... But...
Mrs. Tweedy: [to Mr. Tweedy] It's all in your head, Mr. Tweedy. Say it!
Mr. Tweedy: It's all in me head. It's all in me head.
Mrs. Tweedy: Now, you keep telling yourself that, because I don't want to hear another word about it. Is that clear?
Mr. Tweedy: Yes, love. But you know that ginger one...
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!
[cut to Ginger, slamming the gavel three times]
Ginger: [on microphone] Order! Order! Quiet, everyone. Settle down. I would like to call to order... Please, if you could just settle...
Fowler: [banging on the table] Let's have some discipline in the ranks! What, what!
Ginger: Thank you, Fowler.
Fowler: In my R.A.F. days, we were never allowed to waste time unnecessary chitchat.
Ginger: Yes, thank you, Fowler.
Fowler: Right! [chuckling, clears throat, then putting his hand up] Carry on.
Ginger: Now, I know our last escape attempt was a bit of a fiasco, but Mac and I have come up with a brand-new plan. Show 'em, Mac.
Mac: Right. We tried going under the wire and that didn't work. So, the plan is, we go over it.
[they all show a catapult]
Mac: [showing a chicken turnip] This is us, right? We get in like this. Wind her up, and let her go!
[the chicken turnip splats on the wall when Fowler ducks, then they all scream]
Fowler: Good grief! The turnip's bought it!
Chicken: Farmer's coming! [blows a whistle, then the chickens all run, then sliding the paper back under the bed]
Fowler: Operation Cover-up!
[puts a blanket on Fowler, then closing the floor, and papers]
Chicken: Whee! [licks the finger, burning on the fire] Ouch!
[Mr. Tweedy looks at the chickens with a flashlight, then looking at a teapot and the chicken, then the blanket lands on the teapot chicken, then hearing a chicken clucking]
Mrs. Tweedy: Mr. Tweedy!
[the top hits the head]
Mrs. Tweedy: Where are you?
Mr. Tweedy: It's all in your head. It's all in your head. It's all in your head.
[the chicken opens the curtain window, then putting a thumb up, then getting down]
Ginger: Think, everyone, think. What haven't we tried yet?
Bunty: We haven't tried not trying to escape.
Babs: Hmm. That might work.
Ginger: What about Edwina? How many more empty nests will it take?
Bunty: Perhaps it wouldn't be empty if she'd spent more time layin' and less time escapin'.
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 your heads. There's a batter place out there somewhere beyond that hill, and it has wide open spaces and lots of trees, and grass. Can you imagine that? Cool, green grass.
Chicken: Who feeds us?
Ginger: We feed ourselves.
Chicken: Well, 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 gettin' out of here are a million to one.
Ginger: Then there's still a chance. [walks outside, then closing the door, with Fowler laying down on the ground, then putting hands on, then crying] Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no. What am I doing? Who are you trying to fool? You can't lead this bunch of... [bangs on the fence, then holding on] Oh, heaven help us.
[the cannon fires, then Rocky appears]
Rocky: [flies by Ginger, chuckling, then spinning on the vane, screaming, then bouncing on wires, then flying down, screaming] Whoa! Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. You've been a wonderful audience. [hits Rocky, then the paper flies in the sky]
Woman: Oh, yes.
[the paper lands on Ginger, then looking at the paper]
Ginger: That's it. Get him inside quickly.
[the dogs walk with Mr. Tweedy, then closing the curtains, then turning on the lantern, then showing the paper, saying, "Rocky The Flying Rooster"]
Ginger: This is our way out of here.
Babs: We'll make posters?
Ginger: No. 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 take. 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.
Rocky: Not in the dark, no. No, not in there. No. Get out. Good. Gotta get... [he mutters, then looking in eyes of the chickens] Who are you? Where am I? What's goin' on? Ouch! What happened to my wing?
Ginger: You took a rather nasty fall.
Mac: And sprained the anterior tendon connecting your radius to your humerus. I gave it a wee bit of a tweak, Jimmy, and wrapped her up.
Rocky: Was that English?
Ginger: She said you sprained your wing. She fixed it.
Babs: I made the bandage.
Bunty: I-I carried you in.
[they all chatter]
Rocky: Whoa. Whoa. Whoa! Whoa. [chuckling] Let's back up and start from the top. Where am I?
Ginger: You're right. How rude of us. We're just very excit... This is a chicken farm.
Babs: And we're the chickens. [winks]
Rocky: Yeah, with you so far. Chicken farm, chickens...
Fowler: I don't like the look of this one. His eyes are too close together.
Ginger: Father, please.
Fowler: And he's a Yank!
Rocky: Easy, Pops. Cockfighting's illegal where I come from.
Bunty: And where is that exactly?
Rocky: Just a little place I call the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Rocky: No! America.
All: Oh! America.
Fowler: Poppycock. Pushy Americans. Always showing up late for every war. Overpaid, oversexed and over here!
[closing the door]
Rocky: Hey, what's eatin' Grandpa?
Ginger: Oh, don't mind him, Mister... Mister?
Rocky: The name's Rocky. Rocky the Rhode Island Red. Rhodes for short.
Chicken: Rocky Rhodes?
Rocky: [takes a cup] 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.
[they all chuckle]
Rocky: Well, then, call me a miracle, doll face, 'cause that's me.
[they all clap]
Chicken: And what brings you to England, Mr. Rhodes?
Rocky: Why, all the beautiful English chicks, of course.
Chicken: Give order!
[Bunty pushes Rocky, spitting water out]
Rocky: You see, I'm a traveler by nature. I did that whole barnyard thing for a while, but I couldn't really get into it. Hi. How are you? Nope.
[the chicken lays on the ground]
Rocky: 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.
[they all clap]
Chicken: Isn't that great?
Ginger: I knew it was possible.
Rocky: Oh, it's possible, all right.
Ginger: I knew the answer would come.
Ginger: We're all going to fly over that fence, and Mr. Rhodes is going to show us how, right?
Rocky: That's... What? Did you say "fly"?
Ginger: You can teach us.
Rocky: No, I can't. [to Ginger] Listen. Shh. You hear that?
Rocky: That's the open road calling my name, and I was born to answer that call. Bye. [runs out the door]
Babs: He must have very good hearing.
Rocky: Okay, okay, where's the exit? Ah, this way.
Ginger: Mr. Rhodes, um, perhaps I didn't explain our situation properly. We lay eggs day in and day out, and when we can't lay any more, they kill us.
Rocky: It's a cruel world, doll face. You might as well get used to it.
Ginger: Which part of "they kill us" do you not understand?
Rocky: Hey. I got my own set of problems to worry about. Besides, this birdcage can't be that hard to bust out of. In fact, watch me.
Ginger: It's not so hard to get one chicken out of here or even two, but this is about all of us.
Rocky: [stops walking] All of you?
Ginger: That's what I've been trying to tell you.
Rocky: Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You want to 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. I will be leaving that way. But...
Ginger: But... Mr. Rhodes?
Rocky: [singing] I'm the new type of guy.
Rocky: [continues singing] That likes to roam around I'm never in one... [he looks at a truck, gasping, then Rocky runs down, then the man gets out of the truck, closing the door, then looking at a truck, saying, "Circus"]
Ginger: So that's it. You're from the circus.
Rocky: Shh! You're on the run, aren't you? [grabs Ginger] You wanna keep it down? I'm trying to lay low here.
[they hear a doorbell]
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?
[he squawks, then Rocky holds Ginger's mouth]
Rocky: 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 just decided. I don't like you.
Ginger: I just decided. I don't care. Now, show us how to fly.
Rocky: With this wing?
Ginger: Teach us then.
[he squawks louder]
Mrs. Tweedy: He's valuable, you say?
Mrs. Tweedy: Get the torch.
Rocky: 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!
[he gasps, then Mr. Tweedy turns the flashlight on]
Ginger: Fancy that. They're coming this way.
Rocky: Oh, oh, no. No. Oh, no. They're on to me.
Ginger: Teach us to fly and we'll hide you.
Rocky: And if I don't?
[he squawks, then Rocky grabs Ginger's mouth]
Rocky: Was your father by any chance a vulture?
Ginger: Do we have a deal?
[Rocky looks at Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy, then opening a gate, then they both run by the house, then Mrs. Tweedy looks with a flashlight at Ginger and Rocky]
Rocky: Time to make good on that deal, doll...
Ginger: The name is Ginger. [knocks, then the door opens, then they grab Ginger and Rocky, then Mrs. Tweedy looks at the chickens, except Bunty, then closing the top]
Rocky: Not really.
Ginger: Maybe this will help. [tries to get out Rocky]
Rocky: Nice hideout. Ouch. I had more room in my egg.
Ginger: We've held up our end of the deal. Tomorrow you hold up yours.
Rocky: What deal?
Ginger: The flying!
Rocky: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Right, right, right. Don't worry. I'll teach you everything I know. Now, which bunk is mine?
[they all wave and shout]
Fowler: Absolutely outrageous! Asking a senior officer to share his quarters, and with a noncommissioned 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: Just... What's that smell? Is that your breath?
Fowler: It's absolutely outrageous.
[they all chatter]
Rocky: So you wanna fly, huh? 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 his finger]
Fowler: Codswallop! [walks inside hut 1, closing the door]
Rocky: Now, the most important thing is we have to work as a team...
[they all nod]
Rocky: ...which means, you do everything I tell you.
[they all continue nodding]
Rocky: Right! Let's rock and roll.
[they start exercising, then they all wave hands back and forth, then raising up, holding hands, then spinning feet around, then they do push-ups while raising his hands, laughing while walking away, then they do fight, then they do push-ups, then Mr. Tweedy looks at the chickens doing exercise, by doing push-ups]
Mr. Tweedy: Mrs. Tweedy! The chickens are... Pecking?
[the clipboard hits Mr. Tweedy's head]
Rocky: And left, two, three. And right, two, three. And, stop right there. Oh, yeah, down. Down. Yeah, yeah, make little circles. That's it. Faster. Faster. Oh, yes. Perfect. [in a bath] Oh, that's the spot.
[he sighs, then the chicken pumps the bath, then the chicken puts the fan behind his back, then they all walk away]
Ginger: 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.
[the chickens spin around]
Rocky: What the... Hey! Cut it out! You're making me dizzy. I think they're ready to fly now.
Ginger: Good, because they certainly can't walk anymore.
[the both knock with Bunty and Babs, then they all lay down]
Rocky: Up and at 'em, gals. Let's flap.
[the chicken flaps his hands, then running at the wood, with Nick and Fetcher crawling out]
Nick: Watch, Fetcher. Let's see if old Attila the Hen has come to her senses.
[the chicken lands by Nick and Fetcher, then laying down, then falling down with Nick and Fetcher running away]
[they both walk, then the chickens run on a treadmill, with Mac losing control, leaving two chickens on a treadmill, then the chickens jump on a pillow]
Nick: Hey! Careful of those eggs!
[they both laugh, then Bunty runs by holding a chicken, then throwing in a kettle]
Nick: Sunny-side up. [laughing]
[the chicken throws Mac on the ground]
Fetcher: Now they're over easy!
[the chicken pulls the rope, then the chicken spins around, then landing on a dirt]
Nick: Definitely scrambled.
[they all run to a roof]
Rocky: Go! Go! Go! Go, go, go, go! Go!
Nick: Poultry in motion! [laughing]
[Ginger runs by Rocky, then flapping his hands, then landing on the chickens]
Fetcher: Birds of a feather flop together.
[he gasps, then falling down at the chickens, with feathers flying]
Rocky: Good work, ladies. Great work! The pain you're feeling is a good thing. It's good. Pain is your friend, okay? It's a positive thing. Just keep the faith there, uh... What was your name? Agnes! You'll get there. Ducky, I think you flew four feet today.
Nick: Right, four feet! From the roof to the ground.
[they both laugh]
Rocky: It's all part of the process, ladies. Nothing to worry about.
Chicken: [whispering] Ya cheese-eating little...
Rocky: Whoa! That doesn't sound good. Ha, ha, ha. Okay, the ground's shaking. Are we... Are we worried? Are we worried?
[the truck drives by the chickens, with leaves rolling out]
Rocky: The circus. Quick. Hide me. Hide me.
Ginger: Come on.
Fowler: One isn't awarded a medal like this for flapping about like a lunatic, what.
[the both run by Fowler]
Fowler: Now, see here! This is an officer's quarters.
Ginger: Quick. In here.
Fowler: Get out of here immediately, sir!
Rocky: Give it a rest, Pops.
[Ginger closes the door at Rocky]
Fowler: Out of here! I shall have you on a charge within the week.
[the chickens look to watch the truck drive, saying, "Poultry Products Ltd. Est. 1901", with Mr. Tweedy following the truck, then lifting up, followed by Mrs. Tweedy, then Mr. Tweedy follows by lifting the crates, then putting the crates down, then the chickens look in a binoculars, then the truck rolls away]
Mr. Tweedy: Cheers, mate. [shakes his head]
[the chickens put the binoculars down, then throwing the binoculars, then they start whistling]
Mr. Tweedy: It's all in your head. It's all in your head. It's all in your head. [he cuts the box] Ooh!
[Mrs. Tweedy takes the blades]
Mr. Tweedy: What... What... What's all this then?
Mrs. Tweedy: [spins the blade] This is our future, Mr. Tweedy. No more wasting time with petty egg collection and minuscule profits.
Mr. Tweedy: No more eggs? But we've always been egg farmers. Me father and his father and all their fathers. They was always...
Mrs. Tweedy: [to Mr. Tweedy] Poor! Worthless. Nothings. But all that's about to change. This will take Tweedy's farm out of the dark ages, and into a full-scale automated production.
[the knife blades pop out, gasping]
Mrs. Tweedy: Melisha Tweedy will be poor no longer. [puts the book on Mr. Tweedy]
Mr. Tweedy: [opening a book] I'll put it together then, shall I?
[Mrs. Tweedy closes the doors]
Ginger: This isn't good, Mac. Whatever's in those boxes is for us, and I don't think it's softer hay.
Mac: Aye, hen. And I hate to be the voice of doom, but I've been calculating my figures, and I just don't think we're built for flyin'.
Ginger: But I saw him. He flew in over that fence.
Mac: Aye, aye, I believe you, but if we could just see it for ourselves, that may answer some questions.
Ginger: You're right. I'm sorry. We've been at this all week, and we're getting nowhere. If his wing were better, he could... Oh! I'll have a word with him. [walks away, then looking around] Where is he?
Fowler: They didn't give me this medal for being a Yank nanny.
Ginger: A simple "I don't know" would suffice.
Fowler: Beware of that one, young Ginger. That Yank is not to be trusted.
Ginger: That Yank is our ticket out of here.
Rocky: And the pig says to the horse, "Hey, fella, why the long face?"
Rocky: [spits water out, then looking at Ginger, being wet] So, um, anyway... Remember those flying tips tomorrow. They're very important. Keep thinking those flighty thoughts.
Bunty: Oh, yeah.
Rocky: They're swell chicks. They really are. Look at what Babs made me. A beak warmer. [puts the hat on the mouth] Isn't that the cutest? And that Bunty. [laughing] She really packs a punch. Is there a problem here?
Ginger: Have we flown over that fence?
Rocky: Not quite. [walks away]
Ginger: Then there's a problem.
Rocky: Good things come to those who wait, doll face.
[Rocky splashes water on his face, then wiping it off, then touching the top of the hair]
Ginger: Okay, how long did it take you?
Rocky: To do what?
Ginger: To learn how to fly.
Rocky: Apples and oranges, baby doll. I'm gifted. They're not. You can't compare the two, okay? The point is, these things take time. Which we are rapidly running out of. We haven't even lifted off the ground. Why?
Mac: I went over my calculations, and I figured the key element we're missing is thrust.
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 usin' real words.
Ginger: She said we need more thrust.
Rocky: Oh, thrust. Well, of course, we need thrust. Thrust and flying are like this. That's flying and tgat's thrust.
Ginger: Would you excuse us?
Rocky: Ah, the wing, the wing, the wing.
Ginger: If we don't see some results by tomorrow, the deal is off, and you're on your own. No more hiding. The farmers will find you, and it's back to the circus, flyboy.
Rocky: You're only the first chick I ever met with the shell still on. [takes the scarf off] Sleep tight, angel face. The Rock's on the case. [clicks tongue while he gives him a wink, then walking away]
Nick: Oh, it was a beaut, guv'nor. Hmm? A fine piece of work, if I do say so meself. I say so meself too.
Rocky: I wish I could have seen it.
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. Anyway, guv, here it is. El merchandiso.
Fetcher: That's Spanish.
Ginger: What are these two crooks doing here?
Rocky: So, you know each other.
Fetcher: She don't think we're valuable.
Rocky: Guys, you are without a doubt the sneakiest, most light-fingered thieving parasities I've ever met.
Nick: Oh, don't, don't. Stop it.
Fetcher: I've gone bright red.
Nick: So, uh, how about them eggs?
Ginger: Eggs? Don't tell me you promised them...
Rocky: Yep! Promised them every egg I lay this month.
Nick: And when can we expect the first installment?
Rocky: I'm brewing one up as we speak, guys. I'll keep you posted.
Nick: Pleasure doing business with you, sir. Sucker.
[they both walk away]
Ginger: You've liee to them.
Rocky: I didn't lie, doll face. I just omitted certain truths. I'll give them exactly what I promised.
Ginger: Which is nothing.
Rocky: Which is what I'll give them.
Ginger: And what will you give us?
Rocky: Thrust! [stretches the belt from a coat] You okay, sweetheart? Good, good.
[they pull Bunty back]
Rocky: Now this is just a little more helper. Something to get you going. It's a thrust exercise.
Fetcher: The tension's killing me.
Nick: It's gonna kill her!
[they all release Bunty]
[Bunty continues going faster]
Ginger: Come on! Flap!
[Bunty flaps her wings, passing by Nick and Fetcher]
Ginger: You can do it. Flap, flap, flap!
[the cart releases Bunty, flapping the wings]
Ginger: Yes, yes, yes!
[Bunty flies by the fence, taking the pilot's head off]
Nick: Is that your first offense?
[they both laugh, then Bunty flies down by Nick and Fether, then they all roll, then crashing]
[they all hear a bell ring again]
Babs: Roll call! I haven't laid any eggs.
Rocky: Hide me.
Babs: Three days and not one. Oh, no!
Ginger: Why didn't you tell us, Babs?
Rocky: Hide me!
Babs: We've been so busy with the flying...
Chicken: They're coming!
Rocky: Hide me!
Ginger: Hide yourself! [walks away]
[they all run in line, then pointing to Babs, then opening the gate, then walking with hands behind her back, whimpering, then twitching, then holding hands, gulping, then stretching the wrapping scale, then wrapping around Babs, checking, then taking off, with Mr. Tweedy walking by]
Mrs. Tweedy: Double their food rations, Mr. Tweedy. I want them all as fat as this one.
Babs: [lays down, then Ginger grabs her, holding on] All my life flashed before me eyes! It was really borin'.
[he dumps the crops on the ground]
Babs: Chicken feed. My favorite!
[they all run to the chicken feed]
Ginger: Wait. Wait. [looks at Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy, and the dog, the Mrs. Tweedy honks Mr. Tweedy] No. Wait!
Ginger: Something is wrong here. Can't you see that? Strange boxes arrive in the barn. Babs stops lying, but they don't take her to the chop, and now they're giving us extra food. Don't you see what's happening? They're fattening us up. They're going to kill us all.
[they all gulp]
Rocky: Whoa, whoa! Heavy alert. [laughing] She didn't mean that, gals.
Ginger: Do you mind?
Rocky: Keep eating. Save some for me. [takes Ginger]
Ginger: What are you doing? How dare you! Let go of me!
Rocky: Listen. I've met some hard-boiled eggs in my day, but I'd say you're about in 20 minutes.
Ginger: What's that supposed to mean?
Rocky: It means you got to 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: Okay. 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.
Rocky: 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: If this is the way you show it, I hope you nevee care about me.
Ginger: I can assure you, I never will.
[they both walk away, then Rocky gasps, looking at the chickens walking away, then Bunty take the chicken feed, then dropping the chicken feed, with the harmonica music playing, then Babs knits, then nods and runs away, then cut to Ginger, sitting down, then hearing a woman vocalize, then playing an accordion, then hearing static, then walking down, then opening a door, bringing a bed]
Ginger: What's all this?
Nick: Well, here she is. Ask and you shall recieve.
Fetcher: That's biblical.
Nick: That's real craftsmanship is what it is. Solid as a rock.
[the part of the radio pops out]
Fetcher: It's supposed to do that.
Rocky: It's perfect, guys.
Nick: And how's that egg coming?
Rocky: This is a double yolker.
[they both walk by Ginger, then then "Flip, Flop and Fly" begins]
Ginger: I don't see what this has to do with...
Rocky: You will. We've been workin' too hard. Time to kick back a bit, shake those tail feathers.
Bunty: Look at him. Nellypodging around like a... Oh, good heavens. [taps his foot] What's happenin'?
Rocky: That's called a beat, sister. Feel it pulsing through your body?
Bunty: Oh, yes. Pulsing. Fancy that.
Rocky: [spins Bunty] Hey, well, then go with it, baby.
Bunty: [dancing] Oh, my. Look! I'm going with it!
Babs: Bunty, what's got into you?
Bunty: Same thing that's got into you apparently.
[they both dance to the music]
Rocky: Just go with the flow, gals!
[Babs spins around]
Rocky: Let it go!
[he holds Babs, then jumping around, then holding Rocky, then Fowler appears]
Fowler: Now, see here. I don't recall authorizing a hop.
Bunty: Oh, shut up and dance.
Fowler: Oh! Oh! [laughing]
[Bunty dances with Fowler]
Nick: [to Fetcher, crying] What are you sobbing about, you nancy?
Fetcher: Little moments like this, mate. It's what makes the job all worthwhile. [to Nick, putting a red light in] Wanna dance?
Nick: Yeah, all right.
[they all continue dancing, with Ginger watching, then sliding to Rocky, joining to dance, then spinning around, then they both dance, then Mac dances, then Fowler dances by holding a rose, then they continue dancing, then Bunty spins Babs around, then they continue dancing, followed by Nick and Fetcher, then Bunty spins Babs around, then they hold on a chicken, then Babs flies in the wall, then landing on a nest]
Babs: [giggling] Did you see that? I flew!
[they all clap]
Rocky: Attagirl, Babsy. [winking] Attagirl.
Ginger: Oh! Your wing. It's better.
Rocky: Well... How about that?
Ginger: Fantastic. You can fly for us tomorrow.
Rocky: Uh, uh, yeah, so it seems.
Babs: [jumping up, clapping] I flew! I flew!
Ginger: Looks like you owe you an apology. I didn't think you cared about us, but after all this... Well, it seems I was wrong.
Rocky: Hey, easy, Miss Hard-boiled. I might think you're turning soft.
[they hear a slow jazz music playing on radio]
Rocky: Uh, listen, there's something I gotta tell ya. I...
[the lights power out, then the disco ball rattles, then the radio powers out]
Ginger: No. You'd better wait here. [walks outside hut 17, hearing the dogs, then they all walk outside, barking at the door]
[cut to Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy at the machine]
Mr. Tweedy: Ooh, that's champion, that is. 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 favorite!
Mrs. Tweedy: [to Mr. Tweedy] Chicken pies, you great lummox! Imagine it. 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 Missus?
Mrs. Tweedy: Woman's touch. Makes the public feel more comfortable.
Mr. Tweedy: Oh, right. How does it work?
Mrs. Tweedy: [slaps Mr. Tweedy's hand] Get me a chicken and I'll show you.
Mr. Tweedy: I know just the one.
[cut to the dog snarling at Ginger, walking backward]
Mr. Tweedy: [grabs Ginger] I've got a score to settle with you.
Babs: Bloomin' heck! They've got Ginger!
[he continues walking, holding Ginger, then closing the gate]
Bunty: We mustn't panic. We mustn't panic!
[they all scream]
Fowler: Quiet there! Quiet, I say! Let's have some discipline, what, what. The enemy has taken a prisoner. This calls for retaliation! Retaliation!
Rocky: What's going on? What's happening?
Babs: They got Ginger, Mr. Rhodes. They're taking her to the chop!
Fowler: Well, what are you waiting for, laddie? Fly over there. Save her!
[they all stop screaming]
Rocky: of course... No, 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... The plan. Then plan... Uh, Babs! Give me that thing. Bunty, give me a boost. [grabs the hanger, then zipping down like a zipline, then landing inside the Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy's machine, then walking to the machine, holding Ginger] Whoa.
[Mr. Tweedy puts Ginger in the foot lock]
Rocky: Oh, no!
Mr. Tweedy: Chickens go in, pies come out.
[Mrs. Tweedy walks away]
Mr. Tweedy: [chuckling] Chicken pies. Not... Not apple pies. Chicken!
Ginger: [tries to open the foot lock, then gasping while looking at a hole] Oh, great. Brilliant!
Rocky: Yo, babg doll!
Rocky: I'm coming!
Rocky: [slips on the machine like a treadmill] I'm still coming!
Ginger: Come on! Stop this thing!
Rocky: [trying to get Ginger] I'm gettin' there!
[the foot lock releases Ginger]
Rocky: Oh, shoot!
[the lever pulls down, saying, "On"]
Rocky: I'll be down before you can say mixed vegetables! [falls down from the vegetables, then sliding down, looking at an arrow, saying, "Veg", then flipping another arrow, saying, "Meat", then sliding left, then falling closer to the blades, holding on, then Rocky continues sliding, by a pie] D-oh! Get it? Dough!
Ginger: [tries to get the feet out] I'm stuck!
Rocky: Nothing to it. Oops. [tries to get the feet out]
[they both look at a roller, then they both scream, then they try to get the feet out, then Rocky hops to Ginger]
Rocky: Hang on! [grabs a chain, then they both fall down on a flat pie]
Ginger: Look out!
[they both duck while making the shape of a pie, then they rise up, then they slide down, then squirting then pies, then the vegetables land on the pie with Rocky and Ginger, getting out, then looking for a carrot]
Rocky: Hey! Aha! [puts a carrot inside a hole, vibrating] Yes!
[they both give high five, then the machine splats Ginger and Rocky, then moving into the oven, then they pop out of a pie]
Rocky: Oh, it's like an oven in here. [gasping, then the fires appear, then closing the door]
Ginger: Come on!
[they both run]
Rocky: Wait up! I'm com... [lands on a pie]
[Ginger runs to the door]
Rocky: Don't leave... Get over to the... [falls in the pie]
Ginger: [slides in the door, then putting a wrech in the door to stop closing, then grabbing Rocky] The door! Come on!
[the door continues closing with a wrech holding on, then they both scream, then they slide under, with the green hat taken off, then grabbing the green hat, then putting the green hat back on, then Rocky wipes off, then the drops land on Ginger, then the carrot continues vibrating, then the gears vivrate, then the machine vibrates]
Rocky: She's gonna blow! Run!
[the gears continue vibrating with a wrench holding on, then hearing an alarm bell ringing under the sign, saying, "System Blockage", then the arrow puts to red on a scale, saying, "Gravy Pressure"]
Mrs. Tweedy: What did you do, you great pudding?
Mr. Tweedy: I didn't do 'owt!
'[the machine vibrates, then the gears vibrate, then squirting the carrot out, then hitting the gear, then the gears fall down, then they slide down]
Mrs. Tweedy: Turn it off!
Mr. Tweedy: It won't turn off!
[they both continue running away from gears, with pieces flying, then they grab a chain, then swinging, then they fly in a box, then they both sigh, then they lay down, then putting the sticker on Rocky, saying, "Mrs. Tweedy's Chicken Pies", then walking to the sticker on Rocky, saying, "Mrs. Tweedy's Chicken Pies", then taking a sticker off]
Ginger: We've got to show the others. Come on.
[Mrs. Tweedy unplugs the machine, then the machine powers out, then grabbing a pie]
Mr. Tweedy: Look! I fixed it! Huh?
[Mrs. Tweedy splats on Mr. Tweedy, then putting the sticker on, saying, "Mrs. Tweedy's Chicken Pies"]
Bunty: Chicken pies?
Chicken: Ohh! Oh, no!
Ginger: Yes, but...
Babs: I don't want to be a pie. I don't like gravy.
Ginger: Ladies, please. Let's not lose our heads.
Bunty: Lose our heads?
[they all scream again, then flapping on a bed, then laying down, while holding on]
Ginger: What I meant to say was, Rocky sabotaged the machine and bought us one more time. And better still, he's going to fly for us tomorrow.
[they all cheer]
Ginger: And once we've seen how's it done, we'll get it. We know it. So don't worry, because tomorrow everything's going to go much, much smoother.
Rocky: [walks away, then opening a door, then looking at Fowler] All right, Pops, what did I do now? A very brave and honorable deed, sir.
Fowler: [clears throat] In the light of your action this evening, I... I dufifully admit that I have misjudged your character. So I present you with this medal for bravery. [puts the badge on Rocky] And, I salute you. [puts the hand up and down] In honor of the oocasion, I surrender the bunk entirely. I shall sleep under the stars. [walks away] Oh, uh, I await tomorrow's flying demonstration, with great anticipation. [walks outside]
Rocky: [looking in the mirror] You and me both, Pops. [he looks at a badge, then Ginger walks up to Rocky] Oh!
Ginger: I'm sorry. Were you...
Rocky: Is this your... I'll get down.
Ginger: No, no, it's just... No, I'm glad you're here, because...
Rocky: Since you're here...
Ginger: I'm sorry. You go first. I'll...
Rocky: You go ahead.
[they both sit down]
Ginger: Um, I just wanted to say, I may have been a bit harsh at first. Well, what I really mean is, thank you for saving my life. For saving our lives. You know, I come up here every night, and look out to that hill and just imagine what it must be like on the other side. It's funny, I've... I've never actually felt grass beneath my feet. I'm sorry. Here I am rambling on about hills and grass, and you had something to say.
Rocky: Uh, y-y-yeah. Um, it's just that, y-you know, life as I've experienced it, you know, out there, lone free rangin' and stuff, it's, uh, it's full of disappointments and, uh...
Ginger: What, you mean grass isn't all it's cracked up to be?
Rocky: Grass! Exactly. Grass. It's always greener on the other side. And then you get there and it's brown and prickly. You see what I'm tryin' to say?
[Ginger nods, then shaking his head]
Rocky: What I'm trying to say is, you're welcome.
Ginger: You know, that hill is looking closer tonight than it ever has before. [puts the hand down by Rocky]
Ginger: [clears throat] Well, good night, Rocky. [walks away]
Rocky: Good night, Ginger.
[he sighs, then walking down, then looking at the paper, then looking at the sky, then Fowler walks up]
Fowler: Company, attention!
Ginger: [uses the rock to hammer the nail on the poster] Well, today's the day, girls. We're going to fly! I can feel it!
[they all cheer]
Bunty: Finally, we get to see a real professional in action.
Ginger: Better start warming up. I'll go and get him. Rocky. Knock-knock. Everyone's waiting, so I told them to... [notices that Rocky isn't here] R-Rocky? [looks at a badge, then walking down, looking at it, then grabbing a badge, then grabbing a torn poster, opening it, saying, "In Town For One Week Only", then walking down to put the torn piece into place, then hearing a thunderclap, then pouring rain, by the spoon under the fence, then walking by the rain, then walking down]
Mac: Oh, a cannon. Aye, that would give you thrust.
Bunty: I knew he was fake all along. In fact, I'm not certain he was American.
Mac: So, what's the next plan, hen?
Ginger: [sighing] Let's face it. The only way out of here is wrapped in pastry.
[they all gasp]
Babs: Perhaps he just went on holiday.
Bunty: Perhaps he just went away from your infernal knitting! [wipes in the mud]
Mac: You were always the one that was always hitting him. See how you like it. [pushes Bunty]
Bunty: Don't push me, four-eyes!
Fowler: Quiet there! Quiet, I say! Dissension in the ranks. Precisely what Jerry would have wanted. The old divde and conquer. A proper squadron work together, like we did in my R.A.F. days. Jocko at the stick, Flappy at the map, and old Whizzbang at the tail-end Charlie. WingCo would give the call, hop in the old crate, chocks away! Wizard show it was. That's how you get medals.
Bunty: Oh. Will you shut up about your stupid blooming medals!
[they all gasp, then the medal lands in the mud]
Fowler: How dare you! [hits Bunty] Madam, forgive me. A-As an officer, I offer my most...
[Bunty punches Fowler to the mud, then they all gasp, then Bunty attacks Fowler, then they all attack Fowler, then looking at the medal, then touching it]
[the chickens continue attacking]
Ginger: Everyone, shut up!
[the chickens stop attacking, with Babs holding on the leg by the mouth, long pause]
Ginger: [clears throat] Fowler. What exactly is the R.A.F.?
Fowler: What do you mean, what is it? The Royal Air Force is what.
Ginger: Then what's the "old crate"?
[the chickens all open a top, looking at Rocky]
Fowler: Ahh! There she is. [grabs a card] Gorgeous, isn't she?
Ginger: You mean, you flew in one of these?
Fowler: Beautifully built. In fact, there's a bit of a story to that as well. We were out on a "recce," you see. Ops had given the go-ahead, but the weather duffed up. [he continues talking]
Ginger: Yes. Of course. We might actually be able to pull this off. We're still going to fly out of here.
Fowler: What, what?
Ginger: Fowler's provided the answer.
Fowler: I have? Uh, yes, yes, yes. Of course I have. Uh, how have I?
Ginger: We'll make a crate. Mac, you'll handle the engineering. Babs, manufacturing. Fowler will be chief aviation advisor. Bunty, eggs.
Nick: Right, 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: One egg for every item on the list. First payment in advance.
Both: [simultaneously] Right! When do we start?
[grabs an egg to Nick]
Nick: Come on!
[the gnomes walk with Nick and Fetcher]
[they continue walking at Mr. Tweedy, fixing the machine]
Mr. Tweedy: Huh? What the dickens?
[the gnomes walk away on Nick and Fetcher]
Mr. Tweedy: Oh, gnomes now.
[Ginger puts the hand out, following by Nick and Fetcher on gnomes, then they take their gnomes out]
[they take a wrench to Ginger, then they take the tools]
Fetcher: Give me.
[Mr. Tweedy continues fixing the machine, then they all use to take their nails out by dropping in the can, then using a hammer to take out the nail, then grabbing a broken wrench, then taking a nail out, then the bunk bed lands on the chicken, screaming, then Fowler walks by, with pants on, then pulling the string, the the tools fall down out of the pants, then raising his hand, then plugging the machine, then putting smoke on Mrs. Tweedy's face, then they pull a clothesline by the dogs]
Nick: Ohh! All right, here.
[they all grab a blanket, then they all sew the blankets, then the chicken cuts the blanket, then Babs cuts the blanket, squealing, then Mr. Tweedy continues fixing the machine, then Bunty puts the eggs down]
Nick: Eggs from heaven!
Fetcher: No! From her bum!
[they both laugh, then closing the top, then putting wood down, then putting a screw on a wood, then they hammer a screw, then Mr. Tweedy puts a gear on the machine, then the chickens saw back and forth, then he continues fixing the machine, then using a wrench back and forth, then putting the door on the machine, then putting a gear on, spinning around, then they all cheer, then blowing smoke, then hammering the nail, then they hear a machine chugging, with an arrow pointing to red, saying, "Gravy Pressure", then pressing a button, then shooting at Mrs. Tweedy]
Mrs. Tweedy: Idiot! [kicks Mr. Tweedy]
Ginger: That was close. Too close. We can't stop now. Come on, everyone! Go for it! Really go for it! Go, go, go, go! [walks under, then they all fix] Mac, we need those calculations quickly.
Ginger: Agnes, that has to be really secure. Careful up there, Fowler!
Ginger: Bunty, give him a hand. Well done, Babs. Keep it up.
Babs: [continues sewing] No problem, doll face.
[he walks out of hut 17, looking at a poster, saying, "Rocky The Flying Rooster", then cut to Rocky, riding a trike]
Rocky: [singing] Oh, I'm the type of guy that likes to roam around. I'm never in one place. I roam from town to town. And when I found myself fallin' for some girl. I'd hop right in that car... [stops singing, then the trike goes backwards, then looking at a sign, saying, "New Mrs. Tweedy's Chicken Pies It's The Woman's Touch!"] Oh, boy.
[cut to Mr. Tweedy, putting a key inside the machine]
Mr. Tweedy: Come on. [he rubs the shoe mark behind his back] Please.
[the machine starts]
Ginger: Oh, no. He's fixed it.
[Mr. Tweedy looks at a machine, laughing]
Mrs. Tweedy: [opens the door] Get the chickens.
Mr. Tweedy: Which ones?
Mrs. Tweedy: All of them. [turns the arrow, saying, "Max", then the machine goes faster, then they all fix, just as Mr. Tweedy appears]
Mr. Tweedy: Me tools!
[the chickens all stop fixing]
Mr. Tweedy: Why, you thieving little buggers!
Mac: What's the plan?
[they both grin]
Ginger: Attack! [he attacks Mr. Tweedy]
Bunty: Nice plan.
[they all attack Mr. Tweedy]
Mr. Tweedy: Mrs. Tweedy! [walks backwards while the chickens attack, then they all run to Mr. Tweedy] Mrs. Tweedy! The chickens are revolting!
Mrs. Tweedy: Finally, something we agree on. [continues writing]
Mr. Tweedy: Help! Mrs... [falls to the ground with a hat in his mouth]
Ginger: Under the hut.
[they all grab Mr. Tweedy under hut 8]
Chicken: Come on!
[the hut 8 house hits Mr. Tweedy]
Babs: What have we done?
Ginger: This is it, everyone. We're escaping.
Mac: What, now?
Mac: But, Ginger, she's not ready.
Ginger: Listen. We'll either die free chickens or die trying.
[the chickens cheer]
Babs: Are those the only choices?
Ginger: Let's do it.
[the chickens run away, then Bunty pulls a rope, then they all pull down by the chickens, then opening the roof and the wheel, then landing down]
Fowler: This way!
[they put the plane together, putting wings on, then they both pull, then gasping, then they all pull down, then waving table tennis rackets, then they both roll down, then plugging the lights, then they all go inside, with Ginger walking to Mac, chuckling]
Mr. Tweedy: [muffled] Mrs. Tweedy!
Nick: The exits are located here and here. In the quite likely event of an emergency, put your head between your knees and...
Fetcher: Kiss your bum good-bye.
Ginger: All right, Fowler, ready for takeoff.
Fowler: Behind you all the way.
Ginger: But you're supposed to be up there. You're the pilot.
Fowler: Behind you all the way.
Ginger: But you're supposed to be up there. You're the pilot.
Fowler: Oh, don't be ridiculous. I can't fly this contraption.
Ginger: Back in you day, the Royal Air Force...
Fowler: 6-4-4 Squadron, poultry division. We were the mascots.
Ginger: You mean you never actually flew the plane?
Fowler: Good heavens, no. I'm a chicken.
[they all gasp]
Fowler: The Royal Air Force doesn't let chickens behind the controls of a complex aircraft.
Chicken: We're all gonna die!
Ginger: Fowler, you have to fly it. You're always talking about back in your day. Well, today is your day.
Bunty: You can do it, you old sausage.
Fowler: [grabs the medal] Wing Commander T.I. Fowler, reporting for duty.
[they all cheer]
Fowler: Well, come on. What are you waiting for? We haven't got all day. Let's get this crate off the ground.
Ginger: Fowler! Now!
Fowler: Roger! Contact!
[they all pedal the wheels, to make the plane fly]
Fowler: Clearwd for takeoff!
[the chickens raise the ramp up with an arrow, saying, "This Way Up"]
Fowler: Chocks away!
Both: [simultaneously] Chocks away!
[the plane goes slower]
Fowler: Full throttle!
Mac: Full throttle! [pulls the lever to add another gear, then the plane goes slower, then Ginger arrives]
[the plane goes faster]
Fowler: We need more power!
Mac: I cannot work miracles, Cap'n! We're givin' her all she's got!
[the chickens continue pedaling, then going up in the sky]
Mr. Tweedy: Gotcha!
Fowler: Hard right!
[the chickens make the plane go right]
Mr. Tweedy: Oh, mother!
[the plane spins around under Mr. Tweedy, then falling to the ground]
Ginger: Turn her around! I'll get the ramp. [runs to get the ramp, then raising up]
[Fowler grabs the christmas lights]
Mrs. Tweedy: Put the ramp down. [puts an ax on a ramp by Ginger] You are going to be a pie!
[they hear a trike jingling]
[Mrs. Tweedy takes an ax out the ramp]
Rocky: Heads up! [the trike attacks Mrs. Tweedy's face, then the ax flies up, then gasping, then the ax lands by Mrs. Tweedy's face, then laying on the ground, then looking at Rocky]
Fowler: Look out! Clear the runaway!
[they both lift the ramp, then pushing, then gasping, then the plane flies up into the sky]
Rocky: Ginger! Let's go!
[they both grab the christmas lights, then they climb up]
Bunty: We're flying!
[she looks at the christmas lights, then Rocky climbs up, then grabbing Ginger]
Ginger: [slaps Rocky] That's for leaving.
Ginger: And this is for coming back.
[the plane shakes, then Mrs. Tweedy climbs up with an ax]
Fowler: Great Scot! What was that?
Mac: A cling-on, Cap'n! And the engines can't take it!
[she snarls, then they both scream]
Ginger: Oh, goodness. Babs! Scissors!
Babs: [looks for a knitting, toothbrush, lipstick, and scissors] Bingo.
Ginger: [takes the scissors] Lower me down.
Rocky: But, Ginger, I...
Ginger: Just do it.
Fowler: Increase velocity!
Babs: What does that mean?
Bunty: It means pedal your flippin' giblets out!
[Mrs. Tweedy holds the ax on her mouth, then climbing up, then holds the scissors in his mouth, then he tries to cut the christmas lights, then he continues trying to cut the christmas lights]
Rocky: I'm trying!
[Mrs. Tweedy continues climbing up, then he continues trying to cut the christmas lights]
Ginger: Fowler, look out!
[she swings by the sign, ripping her face, then the eggs roll out]
Rocky: [releases Ginger] Oh! Ginger!
[Ginger slides down by Mrs. Tweedy, then taking her face off of Mrs. Tweedy, then he continues trying to cut the christmas lights, then raising her ax, then the eggs hit Mrs. Tweedy's face]
Rocky: Fire! Fire!
[the eggs hit Mrs. Tweedy's face]
Fetcher: Me eggs.
[the ax knocks the scissors, falling down to ground, then using his mouth to try to cut the christmas lights]
Rocky: More ammo! Hurry!
Nick: We got no more eggs!
Rocky: Ginger! Look out!
[Mrs. Tweedy raises his ax, then cutting the christmas lights, then Ginger ducks his head]
Ginger: [peeks out, looking at Mrs. Tweedy, then releasing her] Bye-bye.
[Mrs. Tweedy falls down]
Fowler: Bombs away!
Mrs. Tweedy: [flies in the machine] Mr. Tweedy!
[they all cheer]
Rocky: Oh, that was good. That was good!
Fowler: The old bird bought it!
Mr. Tweedy: [walks in] Mrs. Tweedy! Mrs. Twee...
[shakes his legs in the hole, saying, "Safety Valve Do Not Block", then raising up to Mrs. Tweedy, then blinking the light, saying, "Danger", then the arrow points to red, saying, "Gravy Pressure", then closing the door, then the machine and the building explode, with the mud flying up, with the mud slding down on the door, then opening a door]
Mr. Tweedy: I told you they was organized.
[Mrs. Tweedy snarls, then the door lands on Mrs. Tweedy]
Ginger: We did it, everyone!
[they all cheer, then Mac kisses Fowler, then hugging Babs, then they hug while sobbing, then holding Rocky, then they kiss]
All: Aww! Whoa!
Fowler: Keep peddling! We're not there yet! You can't see paradise if you don't pedal! Put your drumsticks into it! [he imitates an airplane] That's what I told him, what, what. We were losing altitude, you see, and heading for a fearful prang.
[Bunty pushes Babs on a swing]
Babs: This is a lovely holiday. I'll be sad to go back.
Mac: Safety at all times is imperative. Now, wind 'er up and...
[the chick flies]
Mac: ...let 'er go!
Rocky: So, is it as good as you imagined?
Ginger: No. It's better. [hugs Rocky] Come on. I'll show you how to play cricket.
Nick: 'Ey, 'ey, here's a thought. Why don't we get an egg and start our own chicken farm? That way we'll 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 you gonna get an 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 gotta get the chicken first to get the egg, and then the egg, you get the chicken out.
Fetcher: Hang on. Let's go over this again.
[the screen puts up, "The End", then the bonus credits scene]
Nick: The egg, obviously. Rollin' along happy as Larry. Then, crack! Hatches into the first chicken.
Fetcher: Yeah, but where'd the egg come from, then?
Nick: What do you mean, where'd it come from?
Fetcher: Egg comes rollin' along, happy as Larry. It's wonderin', where'd it come from? Without a chicken, you get no egg to come rollin' along.
Nick: Well, conversely, without an egg to hatch into the chicken, there will be no chicken to lay the other egg that hatches into the chicken that lays the egg I mentioned in the first place.
Fetcher: So we got two eggs now?
Nick: No, we're still talking about the very first egg.
Fetcher: But what happened about the very first chicken? He's in the very first egg! Aren't you listenin'?
Rocky: Uh, guys. Guys? Tryin' to enjoy paradise over here.
Nick: Oh, sorry, guv.
Fetcher: Beg your pardon.
Nick: Won't happen again.
Nick: Thinks he's such a big shot 'cause he's got his name on a poster. These show biz folk are all the same.
Fetcher: Yeah, the rats are the stars, actually. Yeah, of course they are.
Nick: We do all the work, he gets all the credits. But he does get all the birds.
Fetcher: He gets everything. Yes, he does. Everything. You said it, mate.