Chicken Run

- Shush!

I'm stuck!

- Get back.

- Hmm!

- Mr. Tweedy.

- Eh?

What is that chicken

doing outside the fence?

Oh! I don't know, love. L...

Just deal with it.

Now!

I'll teach you to make

a fool out of me.

Now let that be a lesson

to the lot of ya!

No chicken escapes

from Tweedy's farm!

Oh!

Morning, Ginger.

Back from holiday?

I wasn't on holiday,

Babs.

I was in

solitary confinement.

Oh, it's nice to get a bit

of time to yourself, isn't it?

Roll call!

Come along now.

You'll be late for parade.

Pip, pip. Quick march.

Left, right, left, right.

- Left, right, left, right!

Come on. Smarten up.

- Ooh!

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!

- Give over, you old fool.

They just want to count us.

Oh, how dare you talk back

to a senior ranking officer.

- Why, back in my R.A.F. Days...

- Fowler, they're coming. Back in line.

- Oh, right, right.

- Oh!

There will be a stern reprimand

for you, lad. You're grounded.

Attention!

Welcome back, hen.

Is there a new plan?

I thought we tried

goin' under.

Ah! Over. Right.

How's the egg count?

I've laid five eggs

this morning. Five!

- Well-chuffed with that, I was...

- Shush!

Oh, no. Edwina.

Bunty, why didn't you

give her some of yours?

I would have. She didn't tell me.

She didn't tell anyone.

Oh, is Edwina

off on holiday?

We've got to get out of here.

Ginger!

Are we still on?

Oh, we're on, all right.

Spread the word, Mac.

Meeting tonight in hut 17.

Oh!

You called? Nick and...

- Fetcher.

- At your service.

Over here.

We need some

more things.

Right you are, miss.

- How about this quality

handcrafted tea set?

- Uh, no.

- Or this lovely necklace and pendant?

- It's love...

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!"

That's French.

That's two hats in one, miss.

For parties, for weddings.

Oh, but madame, this makes you

look like a vision, like a dream.

- Like a duck.

- No, thank you.

We're making this. We need these things.

Can you get them?

Oh, oh, oh,

this is a big job, miss.

Oh, bigger than the others.

No, no. This is gonna cost.

Same as always.

One bag of seed.

- You call this pay?

- It's chicken feed.

- What else could we give you?

- Eggs.

- Eggs?

- Eggs.

- We can't give you our eggs.

They're too valuable.

- And so are we.

After you, Fetcher.

After I what?

- Move!

- Ooh!

Hmm.

Twenty-two and nine.

Fourteen shillings

and threepence.

Seven and sixpence times three.

Two and nine.

Fourpence halfpenny.

D-oh! Stupid,

worthless creatures!

I'm sick and tired of

making minuscule profits.

Hmm.

Hmm!

Oh, yes.

Those chickens

are up to something.

Quiet.

I'm onto something.

They're organized. I know it.

- I said, quiet.

- That ginger one.

I reckon she's their leader.

- Mr. 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.

- But... But...

- It's all in your head,

Mr. Tweedy. Say it!

It's all in me head.

It's all in me head.

Now, you keep telling

yourself that,

because I don't want to hear

another word about it.

- Is that clear?

- Yes, love.

But you know that ginger one...

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!

- Order! Order!

- Quiet, everyone. Settle down.

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