Rio Page #3

This is all my fault.

No, no, Linda, Linda, please.

This is not your fault.

You're right.

It's not my fault.

- It's your fault!

- What?

With your little bird talk.

And that whole "save the species."

Well, you know what?

Squawk, squawkity, squawk, squawk!

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to curse.

I don't understand.

Sylvio is the best guard in the business.

So, let me get this straight.

You were attacked by a little white bird?

Yes, with this rag.

He held it to my mouth like this.

We're doomed.

Okay. There's no place like home,

there's no place like home.

How I wish I was back in my own cage

with my mirror and my swing,

and my little bell.

How I miss my little bell.

Play dead.

What? I don't need to play dead,

I'm about to have a heart attack.

Just do it!

Fine.

Stop twitching.

Come on, it's the twitching that sells it.

Come on in, kid.

Well, what do you know?

Good work, Fernando.

You see, boys?

What did I tell you about this one?

That you were going to pay him

half as much as you said?

No, you idiot.

That he reminds me of myself

when I was that age.

Smart, resourceful.

Here you go, kid.

Hey. This is only half

of what you promised me.

Shut up, kid.

What the...

I thought I told you

I needed these birds alive.

Tell me, Fernando...

does this look alive to you?

Get her!

Come over here!

Jewel!

Come here!

Hello...

pretty bird.

What's the matter?

Cockatoo got your throat?

Nigel!

Alive.

To be continued.

That was your plan?

To take off and leave me? Gee, thanks.

Well, why didn't you follow me?

Nice work, Nigel.

Yeah, nice work, Nigel.

The last blue macaws on earth.

These are worth a fortune.

Hey, Fernando,

hang these up in the other room.

Hey, birdie!

Let me out! Let me out! Let me out of here!

Who's a pretty bird? I'm a pretty bird.

Pretty bird, I'm a pretty bird.

I'm a pretty bird.

I was framed. They got the wrong guy.

Sorry, guys. Nothing personal.

So, what's going to happen to them?

Don't worry, we're going to find

good homes for them.

Now go home to your mama.

But I don't have a mama.

Father?

- Brother?

- Goldfish?

Can we keep him, boss?

No.

So, Marcel, what's really going to happen

to those birds?

Plucked, stuffed, eaten, who cares?

All I know is we're going to be rich.

We're gonna be rich!

Come on, come on! The game is starting!

Yes, you were very clear.

Tomorrow or the deal is off.

Of course I have both the macaws.

Yes, I will deliver them myself.

All right, you two...

you load the truck tonight.

And first thing in the morning,

we bring those birds to the airport.

You got it?

- Yeah, sure.

- All right. Heard you.

And one of you, feed Nigel.

Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!

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