[Mr. Willard Tweedy walks with the dogs by a flashlight, then shakes a lock, then continues walking with the dogs. A hen named Ginger has just dug a hole with a spoon to get under the fence. She signals Bunty, Babs, and three other chickens to come over to the fence. But they make a loud noise once they come to the fence] [loud whispering]
Shush!
[Bunty tries to get under the fence. But she is too big. Willard Tweedy hears this and turns around.]
I'm stuck!
[Ginger rolls her eyes and goes to help Bunty get under the fence. But Edwina, Babs and the other chickens are making too much noise trying to push Bunty under. Once Ginger arrives to the rescue, she puts her wing over Bunty's beak so that Willard Tweedy doesn't hear her. Unfortunately, the noise of Edwina, Babs, and the other chickens trying to push her under the fence attracts the attention of the dogs. Ginger hears the dogs and sees Willard Tweedy trying to hold them back]
Get back!
[They all pull her out of the fence, with Ginger pushing, and then lie down. Ginger runs away from the dog, followed by Mr. Tweedy. The dog continues running at Ginger, then another dog runs at her, chasing her by the door. The dogs walk up the stairs and then touch a gnome. The dogs walk up. Ginger she grabs a garden gnome to fend them off. The dog bites the gnome's head off. Then suddenly the doors open. The dogs cower. Ginger spins around to find Melisha Tweedy, Mr. Tweedy's wife, her face icy and expressionless]
MT Melisha Tweedy
[her first words]
Mr. Tweedy.
MT Melisha Tweedy
What is that chicken doing outside the fence?
[his first words]
Oh. [giggles] I don't know, love.
MT Melisha Tweedy
Just deal with it. Now!
[Melisha slams the door. She goes back to bed. Willard cowers and carries Ginger to an old coal bin near the side of the barn] [to Ginger]
I'll teach you to make a fool out of me. [He throws Ginger inside, then closes the top and turns to the other chickens] Now let that be a lesson to the lot of you! NO CHICKEN ESCAPES (clenches his right fist) FROM (with point) TWEEDY'S FARM! [He walks away & ready for bed]
MT Melisha Tweedy
[Mr. Tweedy squints out the window and puts a pair of binoculars to his eyes. Continues to stare as he absently chews on a chicken drumstick. Past a half-eaten chicken carcass (most likely the remains of Edwina) on the dinner table to Mrs. Tweedy, seated at her corner desk, feverishly entering numbers on her hand-cranked adding machine.] [muttering under her breath]
Fourteen shillings and threepence..seven and sixpence...two and nine...fourpence ha‘penny... DOH! [crumpling her paper] Stupid, worthless creatures. I'm sick and tired of making miniscule profits.
[She glances down at the pile of mail on her desk. Beneath the pile, we see the top of a magazine. Mrs. Tweedy slowly slides the pile of mail away to reveal the rest of the magazine. Mrs. Tweedys eyes glimmer as she eyes the magazine and slowly lifts it to her face.]
Oh, yes. Those chickens are up to something.
MT Melisha Tweedy
Quiet. I’m onto something.
They're organized. I know it.
MT Melisha Tweedy
I said quiet.
[whispering]
That ginger one - I reckon she's their leader.
MT Melisha Tweedy
[She slams her fist down on the desk]
Mr. Tweedy!
MT Melisha 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.
MT Melisha Tweedy
It’s all in your head, Mr. Tweedy. Say it!
It’s all in me head, it’s all in me head...
MT Melisha Tweedy
Now, you keep telling yourself that because I don’t want to hear another word about it. Is that clear?
Yes, luv. [on second thought] But you know that ginger one.
MT Melisha 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] [on microphone]
Order! Order! Quiet, everyone! Settle down! I would like to order... Please, if you could just settle--
Quiet here! [banging on the table] Let's have some discipline in the ranks! What, what!
In my R.A.F days, we were never allowed to waste time on unnecessary chitchat.
I... [pause] Right! [chuckling, clears throat, and saluting] Carry on.
Now, 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.
Right. We’ve tried going under the wire and that didnae work. So, the plan is -- we go over it. This is us, right? [putting a turnip in the catapult] We get in like this- wind ‘er up and let ‘er go!
[The turnip flies past Fowler and splats against the wall above his head. The chickens gasp and murmur.]
Good grief! The turnip's bought it!
[A tire iron wedges into a crate and pries the front off. Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy peer inside.]
Oooh, what's all this, then?
MT Melisha Tweedy
[spins a circular saw blade, menacingly]
This is our future, Mr. Tweedy. No more wastin’ time with petty egg collection and miniscule profits.
No more eggs? But...we've always been egg farmers. Me father, and his father, and all their fathers, they were always...
MT Melisha Tweedy
Poor! Worthless! Nothings! But all that's about to change. [holding up the saw blade] This will take Tweedy’s farm out of the dark ages and into full-scale automated production. [As she clicks a switch. Knives shoot out from the blade in all directions.] Melisha Tweedy will be poor no longer. [shoves the manual into Mr. Tweedy's chest]
I'll put it together then, shall I?
[The pie machine has been built and Mr and Mrs Tweedy looks at it]
Ooh! That's champion, that is. What is it?
MT Melisha Tweedy
It's a pie machine, you idiot. Chickens go in, pies come out.
MT Melisha Tweedy
[sarcastically]
Apple.
MT Melisha Tweedy
[forcefully]
Chicken pies, you great lummox! [calmly] Imagine it! In less than a fortnight, every grocer in the county will be stocked with box upon box of "Mrs Tweedy's Homemade Chicken Pies".
MT Melisha Tweedy
Woman's touch. Makes the public feel more comfortable.
Uh, right. How does it work? [about to pull the gearshift]
MT Melisha Tweedy
[slaps Mr. Tweedy on the hand]
Get me a chicken and I'll show you.
I know just the one. [He walks out to get Ginger]
[Mr. Tweedy, sweating bullets, is once again trying to start the machine.] [under his breath]
C'mon. [groans] Please.
MT Melisha Tweedy
[Mr. Tweedy steps away from it, admiring his handiwork as the machine is now fully functioning.] [enters]
Get the chickens.
MT Melisha Tweedy
All of them. [switches to max level on the pie machine]
[The chickens' plane-building has just been discovered by Mr. Tweedy.]
Me tools! Why, you thieving little buggers!
[whispers]
What's the plan?
[Mr. Tweedy stares down Ginger for a few seconds.]
ATTACK!! [Cut to close up Mr. Tweedy]
[as Ginger is doing literally that]
Nice plan!
[the chickens looks as they drop their tools. Cut to all of them swarming Mr. Tweedy.] [being attacked by the chickens]
MRS. TWEEDY! AHH! MRS. TWEEDY, THE CHICKENS ARE REVOLTING!
MT Melisha Tweedy
[sarcastically, not paying attention]
Finally, something we agree on.
[still being attacked by the chickens]
HELP! MRS.-- [muffled, falls down]
Under the hut! [The chickens shove him underneath a hut.]
Alright, Fowler! Ready for take-off!
But... you're supposed to be up there! [points to the cockpit] You're the pilot!
Don't be ridiculous. I can't fly this contraption.
But... but back in your day. The Royal Air Force.
644 Squadron, Poultry Division! We were the mascots.
You mean you never actually FLEW the plane!?
Good heavens, no! I'm a CHICKEN! The Royal Air Force doesn't let chickens behind the controls of complex aircraft!
H Hen
[The chickens hear this and start chattering in a panic.]
We're all gonna die!
You have to fly it. You're always talking about back in your day. Well, today is your day!
You can do it, you old sausage.
[Fowler pulls himself together, stands and salutes.]
Wing Commander T.I. Fowler reporting for duty. [The hens cheer; Fowler impatiently talks over them, heading for the cockpit.] Come on, what are you waiting for? Let's get this crate off the ground!
[manipulating levers]
Roger! Contact! [Chickens start peddling and the propeller starts spinning, saluting] Cleared for take off! [Three chickens hoist a ramp into place just in front of the fence, then scamper back toward the plane, calling down] Chocks away!
[The plane lurches forward down the runway.]
Full throttle.
Full throttle! [pulls a lever]
[The wheels bounce along the rocky runway, lifting slightly, then touching back down. On the flying machine.]
We need more power!
I cannae work miracles, Cap'n! We're giving her all she's got!
[The plane continues, wheels bouncing, getting closer and closer to the ramp, picking up speed, when all of a sudden. Willard Tweedy kicks the ramp down.]
Gotcha!
[The plane banks a hard right.]
Oh, mother! [But the tail knocks him in the head and knocks him to the ground. It’s now heading down the opposite direction on the runway.]
Turn it around. I'll get the ramp!
MT Melisha Tweedy
[Ginger leaps off the plane, runs down the runway to the ramp. She struggles and strains to lift it.] [coldly]
Put the ramp down. [ She swings her axe and it wedged into the ramp] You are going to be a pie! [hears a sound of a trike bell ringing] Huh?
[Ginger slaps Rocky]
THAT'S for leaving. [pulls him close] And THIS is for coming back.
[Loud nose occurs, the crate is pulled down slightly and the chickens scream]
Great Scott! What was that?!
A cling-on cap'n! And the engines can't take it!
[Melisha Tweedy snarls Rocky and Ginger gasps]
Oh my goodness. Babs! Scissors!
[rumages through her handbag, throwing out a knit, a toothbrush, a lipstick, before finding the scissors]
Bingo!
It means PEDAL YOUR FLIPPIN' GIBLETS OUT!!
[Melisha Tweedy she climbs the lights]
LOWER!
[Melisha Tweedy she continue climbs the lights] [billboard]
FOWLER! LOOK OUT!
GINGER! [She raising her axe. But then Rocky starts firing eggs at Melisha Tweedy]
Oh, me eggs. [Ginger loses Babs' scissors]
MT Melisha Tweedy
[Snarling. Melisha Tweedy breaks the wire with her axe, and seemingly beheads Ginger]
NOOOOO!!! [after a moment of silence, she ducks and cover Ginger looks up at Melisha Tweedy, completely unharmed]
MT Melisha Tweedy
[Groans. Ginger reveals the severed Christmas lights in front of Melisha Tweedy]
HUH?!
Bye-bye! [Melisha Tweedy screams after her side of the wire is lets go]
MT Melisha Tweedy
[her last words]
MR TWEEDY!!! [All the chickens cheer for victory]
Oh, that was good, that was GOOD!
The Old Bird bought it! [laughing]
Mrs. Tweedy!, Mrs. Tweed-- [He then sees Melisha Tweedy shrieking and flailing in the blocked-up safety valve; inside, Melisha Tweedy sees the boiling gravy rising. As the machine begins malfunctioning, Willard Tweedy slowly backs away while closing the door, and the pie machine explodes in the distance, creating a mushroom cloud of gravy]
RA Rocky and Ginger
WHOA!
[Gravy leaks down the door, Willard Tweedy then opens the door to see Melissa Tweedy injured while the two guard dogs are happily licking up the spilt gravy] [his last words]
I told you they were organized. [Melisha Tweedy soon begins growling, and before she's about to reprimand him, she lets out a yelp as the now unsupported door falls flat on her.]
[The chickens celebrate]
We did it, everyone.
[The chickens continue to celebrate, Mac gives Fowler a big kiss on the cheek, Bunty hugs Babs, Nick tearfully hugs Fetcher, and Ginger grabs Rocky and finally gives him that big kiss. The pedalling chickens stop pedalling.]
KEEP PEDDLING! We’re not there yet! [The plane rises again and sails off toward the sunset] You can’t see paradise if you don’t pedal! Put your drumsticks into it. [hand-flying the plane through the air] That's what I told them, what what. We were losing altitude, you see, and heading for a fearful prang.
[She push the swing]
This is a lovely holiday. I’11l be sad to go back.
Safety is at all times imperative. Now, wind her up and let her go.
