Rocky: ...And the pig says to the horse, "Hey, fella. Why the long face?" (unknown)
[walking in on a jazz party]
Fowler: Now see here! I, I don't recall authorising a hop!
Bunty: Oh, shut up and dance! (unknown)
[finding the chickens building the Crate]
Mr. Tweedy: Me tools! Why, you thieving little buggers! (unknown)
Mr. Tweedy: Me tools! Why you thieving little buggers!
Mac: What's the plan?
[pause]
Ginger: Attack!
[the chickens tackle Mr. Tweedy]
Bunty: Nice plan. (unknown)
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? (unknown)
Ginger: I don't know, Mac. I have a bad feeling about this. Whatever is in those boxes is for us, and I don't think it's softer hay. (unknown)
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] (unknown)
Ginger: [after she overturns the trough] Something is wrong here. Can't you see it? Strange boxes arrive during the night, Babs lays no eggs and they don't take her to the chop, and now they're giving us extra food. Don't you see? They're fattening us up. They're going to kill us all.
[Chickens gulp aprehensively] (unknown)
Hen: And what brings you to England, Mr Rhodes?
Rocky: Why, all the beautiful English chicks, of course (unknown)
[on finding out Rocky can't fly. Inside joke, see Trivia]
Babs: I knew he was fake all along. In fact, I'm not even certain he was American. (unknown)
Rocky: [angry at Ginger] Listen! I've met some hard-boiled eggs in my day, but I'd say you're about 20 minutes! (unknown)
Rocky: Is there a problem here?
Ginger: [rhetorically] Have we flown over that fence?
Rocky: Not quite.
Ginger: Then there's a problem. (unknown)
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. (unknown)
[Fetcher and Nick are stealing tools, and are hiding in gnomes as they move about, while Mr. Tweedy is working and steal the tools and start walking away and Mr. Tweedy notices]
Mr. Tweedy: So, gnomes now, is it? (unknown)
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. (unknown)
Babs: Chicken seed, my favourite! (unknown)
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. Elisha Tweedy will be poor no longer. (unknown)
[flings Ginger into the coal-bunker "cooler"]
Mr. Tweedy: Now let that be a lesson for the lot of ya - no chicken escapes from Tweedy's farm! (unknown)
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. (unknown)
Rocky: Sleep tight, angel face. The Rock is on the case. (unknown)
[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. (unknown)
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