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.

I would like to call to order...

Please, if you could just settle...

Let's have some discipline

in the ranks! What, what!

- Thank you, Fowler.

- In my R.A.F. Days,

we were never allowed to waste time

with unnecessary chitchat.

Yes, thank you, Fowler.

L...

Right!

Carry on.

Now, I know 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 tried going under

the wire and that didn't work.

So, the plan is,

we go over it.

- This is us, right?

We get in like this.

Wind her up

and... let her go!

Good grief!

The turnip's bought it!

Farmer's coming!

Operation Cover-up!

Whee!

Ouch!

Hmm.

Huh?

- Mr. Tweedy!

- Ooh. Ouch.

- Where are you?

- Ooh. It's all in your head.

It's all in your head.

It's all in your head.

Think, everyone, think.

What haven't we tried yet?

Uh...

We haven't tried

not trying to escape.

Hmm. That might work.

What about Edwina?

How many more empty nests

will it take?

Perhaps it wouldn't be empty

if she'd spent more time layin'

and less time escapin'.

So laying eggs

all your life...

and then getting plucked, stuffed

and roasted is good enough for you?

It's a livin'.

You know what the problem is?

The fences aren't just round the farm.

They're up here in your heads.

There's a better place out there

somewhere beyond that hill,

and it has wide open spaces

and lots of trees...

and grass.

Can you imagine that?

Cool, green grass.

- Who feeds us?

- We feed ourselves.

- Well, where's the farm?

- There is no farm.

- Then where does the farmer live?

- There is no farmer, Babs.

- Is he on holiday?

- He isn't anywhere. Don't you get it?

There's no morning head count, no

farmers, no dogs and coops and keys...

and no fences.

In all my life I've never

heard such a fantastic...

load of tripe!

Oh, face the facts, ducks.

The chances of us gettin' out of here

are a million to one.

Then there's still a chance.

Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no.

What am I doing?

Who are you trying to fool?

You can't lead this bunch of...

Oh, heaven help us.

Freedom!

Huh?

Whoa!

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

You've been a wonderful audience.

- Ouch!

- Oh, yes.

- That's it.

Get him inside quickly.

This is our way out of here.

We'll make posters?

No. What's on the poster, Babs.

What's on the poster. We'll fly out!

He must be very important

to have his picture taken.

What do you suppose he does?

Isn't it obvious?

He's a professional flying rooster.

He flies from farm to farm,

giving demonstrations.

- Do you suppose?

- Oh, absolutely.

Not in the dark, no.

No, not in there. No.

Get out. Good.

Gotta get...

Who are you?

Where am I? What's goin' on?

Ouch! What happened

to my wing?

You took a rather nasty fall.

And sprained the anterior tendon

connecting your radius to your humerus.

I gave it a wee bit of a tweak,

Jimmy, and wrapped her up.

- Was that English?

- She said you sprained your wing.

She fixed it.

- I made the bandage.

- L-I carried you in.

- Whoa. Whoa. Whoa! Whoa.

Let's back up

and start from the top. Where am I?

You're right. How rude of us.

We're just very excit...

This is a chicken farm.

And we're the chickens.

Yeah, with you so far.

Chicken farm, chickens...

I don't like the look of this one.

His eyes are too close together.

- Father, please.

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