Nanny McPhee Returns Page #2

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and, yeah, you'll get it.

You'll get it.

And Mrs. Biggles has

nothing to worry about.

l can fix it.

l am fixing it.

Please, don't hurt me.

(GASPlNG) We don't want

to hurt you, Phil.

The fact is,

Mrs. Big has told us

to come back with

one of two things,

the deeds to your farm.. .

(EXCLAlMS SOFTLY)

Or your kidneys.

(TOPSEY AND TURVEY CHUCKLlNG)

(SlGHlNG)

Not ripe yet,

then, old son?

(GASPS)

Uncle Phil,

where did you come from?

Oh, just on me way home.

Be ripe in a few days,

l reckon.

Must be very proud.

Your mum told me

all about your idea

to pay for the tractor.

What on earth made

you think of that, then?

Well, l saw

Farmer Macreadie

at the shop,

and he said he was

looking to buy some

Gloucestershire Old Spots.

Huh?

Pigs.

l knew that.

So when l offered to

sell him our piglets,

he jumped at it.

Clever.

Very clever.

(ENGlNE STARTlNG)

(EXCLAlMlNG)

(TRACTOR RUMBLlNG)

Come on.

Feed it through.

That's it.

Feed it through.

Come on, Phil, think.

Think, think, think, think.

Piglets. Got to get

rid of the piglets.

Got to get rid

of the piglets.

No piglets, no tractor.

Then she'll have

to sell the farm.

(HORN HONKlNG)

Look.

Cor! Look at that.

(GASPS)

ls that a motorcar?

lt must be the cousins.

lt can't be the cousins.

They're not due

till tomorrow.

VlNCENT:
Do you think

they've brought sweets?

MEGSlE:
They must be so rich.

NORMAN:
They've got

a chauffeur.

(SlGHS)

Where are we?

We're in the Land of Poo.

Duck poo, hen poo,

cow poo, goat poo.

Poo as far as

the eye can see.

Here we are, then.

Out you get.

ln fact, it's the

British Museum of Poo.

Have you gone

completely insane,

Blenkinsop?

Mummy would never send me

to a place like this.

Take me home.

(WlNDOW SQUEAKlNG)

(SCREAMlNG)

You see? There are savages.

l refuse to leave the car.

Oh, put a sock in it, Ceels.

We've got no choice.

Take me home,

right now!

And you know why

we've got no choice, too,

so let's just stop pretending

we're here because of bombs.

CELlA:
They're probably

cannibals.

(EXCLAlMS lN DlSGUST)

Did you see that

thing at the window?

Greetings,

O covered-in-poo people.

Do you speak English?

You're early.

Yes, poo-man,

we have come from far away.

Far, from the land of

soap and indoor toilets.

ls that a Fry's chocolate bar

with cinder-crunch topping?

Yes, it is.

Would you like some?

Pity,

there's none left.

BLENKlNSOP:
Come on,

Miss Celia.

CELlA:
Please, Blenkinsop!

That's rotten.

CYRlL:
That's life.

CELlA:
l'll tell Mummy!

Now, don't be like that,

Miss Celia.

Let go!

Let go of the drinks

cabinet, Miss Celia!

No!

Look here, mister.

l think you'd better

take these two great

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