Fantastic Mr. Fox/Transcript

What'd the doctor say? Nothing. Supposedly it's just a 24-hour bug.
He gave me some pills. And told you, you probably just ate some bad gristle. Should we take the shortcut or the scenic route?
Let's take the shortcut. Oh, but the scenic route is so much prettier. Okay, let's take the scenic route. Great.
It's actually slightly quicker anyway.
(chuckles) Thank you.
What is a squab? You know what a squab is. It's like a pigeon, I suppose. Should we go through the hole under the horse fence or climb the rail over the bridle path? Well, I guess the horse fence would be a little safer.
Oh, but the bridle path puts us right out next to the squab shack. (sighs) Oh, okay. What's wrong? You're acting all skittish.
Don't worry. I've been stealing birds for a living since before I could trot. By the way, you look unbelievably beautiful tonight.
You're practically glowing. Maybe it's the lighting. ♪ I've been in this town so long ♪ Come on.
♪ That back in the city ♪ ♪ I've been taken for lost and gone ♪ ♪ And unknown for a long, long time ♪
♪ Fell in love years ago with an innocent girl ♪ ♪ From the Spanish and Indian home ♪
♪ Of the heroes and villains ♪ ♪ Once at night ♪ (whistling)
♪ Catillian squared up to fight ♪ ♪ And she was right in the rain of the bullets ♪ ♪ That eventually brought her down ♪
♪ Doo, doo-doo, doo-doo ♪ ♪ But she's still dancing in the night unafraid ♪ (foxes growling, birds squawking) ♪ Of what a dude'll do ♪
♪ In a town full of heroes and villains... ♪ What's that? What? I think it's a fox trap. Where?
Look at this. No, get away from there. Is it spring-loaded? Yeah, yeah, I guess if you come from over there and you're standing at this door to the squab shack,
this little gadget probably triggers... What? Move out of the way, darling. Get... That's right where it's gonna land. Don't. Let's go! (clanking)
(both gasp) No, it just falls straight right down. Whew.
I guess it's not spring-loaded. I'm pregnant. ♪ La, la-la, la... ♪ Wow.
We're gonna have a cub. Honey, that's great news. If we're still alive tomorr...
(gun cocks) (gasps) (dog barking) If we're still alive tomorrow morning,
I want you to find another line of work. Okay.
♪ My children were raised ♪ ♪ You know they suddenly rise ♪ ♪ They started so long ago ♪
♪ Head-to-toe, healthy, wealthy and wise ♪ ♪ Buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum ♪
(bicycle bell rings) (tempo slows) ♪ Buh-bum, buh-bum ♪ ♪ Buh-bum... ♪
(song ends) Does anybody actually read my column?
Your friends ever talk about it? Of course. In fact, Rabbit's ex-girlfriend just said to me last week, "I should read Foxy's column,"
but they don't get the Gazette. Ash, let's get cracking. Why would they? It's a rag sheet. I'm sick. You're not sick.
I have a temperature. You don't have a temperature. I don't want to go. Hurry up. You're gonna be late. I love the way you handled that.
(music playing quietly on radio) Hmm. Your cousin Kristofferson is coming on the sixth.
I want you to be extra nice to him 'cause he's going through a very hard time right now. Where's he gonna sleep?
We're gonna make a bed for him in your room. I can't spare the space. Put him in Dad's study. Dad's study is occupied by Dad.
(turns off radio) I don't want to live in a hole anymore. It makes me feel poor. We are poor, but we're happy.
Comme ci, comme ça. Anyway, the views are better above ground.
Honey, I'm seven non-fox years old now. My father died at seven and a half. I don't want to live in a hole anymore.
And I'm gonna do something about it. (turns on radio) (loud snarling)
(slurping) Well, I'm off. Have a good day, my darlings.
You know, foxes live in holes for a reason. Mm, yes and no.
What are you wearing? Why a cape with the pants tucked into your socks?
Eh. I guess he's just... different. (whistles, clicks tongue)
I'm not the listing agent on it, so it doesn't really matter to me either way, but I know he's interested in something... Oh, actually, there he is here.
Oh, hey, Mr. Fox! Yes, here it is. This is the tree. Come on over. Listen, I'm gonna call you back.
(door opens) Obviously, it's first growth, indigenous, original dirt floor, good bark, skipping-stone hearth as you can see.
(metallic clattering) Kylie? Kylie! What did I tell you? I'm showing the property? You're not supposed to be here.
Oh, what time is it? I'm sorry. This is Kylie. He's the super. He's a little, uh... What's in the bucket, Mr. Kylie?
See? You see what his eyes look like? Hey, Kylie? Kylie?! Huh? I-I... just minnows.
Try one? Certainly. Thank you. It's not exactly an evergreen, is it?
Aren't there any pines on the market on this side of the river? Pines are pretty hard to come by
in your price range. What-what...? What's that? (wind whistling)
May I ask what you do for a living, Mr. Fox? I used to steal birds, but now I'm a newspaperman.
Oh, sure. I've seen your byline. Mm. Hmm. Good afternoon, gentlemen.
You going to go? Oh, and, Kylie, thank you for the minnow. It was superb.
Don't buy this tree, Foxy. You're borrowing at nine-and- a-half with no fixed rate, plus moving into the most dangerous neighborhood
in the country for someone of your type of species. You're exaggerating, Badger. (chuckles) I'm sugarcoating it, man.
This is Boggis, Bunce and Bean-- three of the meanest, nastiest, ugliest farmers in the history of this valley.
Really? Tell me about them. All right.
Walt Boggis is a chicken farmer, probably the most successful in the world. He weighs the same as a young rhinoceros.
He eats three chickens every day for breakfast, lunch, supper and dessert. That's 12 in total per diem.
Nate Bunce is a duck and goose farmer. He's approximately the size of a potbellied dwarf, and his chin would be underwater in the shallow end of any swimming pool on the planet. His food is homemade donuts with smashed up goose livers injected into them.
Frank Bean is a turkey and apple farmer. He invented his own species of each.
He lives on a liquid diet of strong alcoholic cider which he makes from his apples.
He's as skinny as a pencil, as smart as a whip and possibly the scariest man currently living.
The local human children sing a kind of eerie little rhyme about them.
Here, listen to this. CHILDREN: ♪ Boggis, Bunce and Bean ♪ ♪ One fat, one short, one lean ♪
♪ These horrible crooks, so different in looks ♪ ♪ But nonetheless equally mean. ♪ In summation, I think
you just gotta not do it, man, that's all. I understand what you're saying, and your comments are valuable,
but I'm gonna ignore your advice. The cuss you are.
The cuss am I? Are you cussing with me? No, you cussing with me? Don't cuss and point at me.
If you're gonna cuss with somebody, you're not gonna cuss with me, you little cuss. (both snarling, hissing)
(typewriter dings) Just buy the tree.
Okay. Take a left, and then to the right. Set them down. There's another batch. Help that other guy over there.
Lift with your legs, not with your back. Flip it sideways. Don't try to be a superman here. All right, we got two circuits here. We got the yellow circuit, the green circuit.
Let's just keep them separated. Hold it right there. We need to bring about two percent more in. Good. Here we go. A little bit more.
A little bit more. Looks good. Let's get that bottom structure really settled in. Let's bring in the side unit. Watch out.
Try to be careful of the branches here, guys. Don't-don't peel away the bark.
Ah... Hi. Hi.
== Cousin Kristofferson Arrives ==
Mr Fox: He's slightly younger, but he's a cuss of a lot bigger. That's just genetics, I guess. Ash has a littler body type.
Ash: Go. (groans) Watch this, Dad!
Mr Fox: Well, well. Good jump, Ash. Remember to keep your tail tucked. Still painting thunderstorms, I see.
Mrs Fox: Do you still feel poor? 
Mr Fox: Less so.
Mr Fox: Whoo-hoo! Whoo! Whoa! Look at that! This kid's a natural. I'm speechless, Kristofferson. Plus he knows karate.
Ash: Do you think I'm an athlete? 
Mr Fox: What are you talking about? 
Ash: Well, you know, I think I'm an athlete. And sometimes I feel like you guys don't see me that way. 
Mr Fox: What's the subtext here? 
KRISTOFFERSON: Om... 
Mr Fox: Is he... praying?
Mrs Fox: I think that's yoga. 
Ash: How long is Kristofferson supposed to stay with us?
Mrs Fox: Until your uncle gets better. 
Ash: Right, but roughly how long do we plan to give him on that? Double pneumonia isn't really that big of a deal, is it?
MRs Fox: (whispering): Lower your voice, Ash.
Mr Fox: (sighs) Who am I, Kylie?
Kylie: Who, how? What now?
Mr. Fox: Why a fox? Why not a-a horse or a beetle or a bald eagle? I'm saying this more as, like, existentialism, you know? Who am I, and how can a fox ever be happy without a-- you'll forgive the expression-- a chicken in its teeth? 
Kylie: I don't know what you're talking about, but it sounds illegal.
Mr. Fox: Here, put this bandit hat on. Maybe you're a medium. Take it off for a minute. And don't wear it around the house. And so it begins.
Kris: Uh, do you mind if I slide my bedroll slightly out from under the train set? It's hard to sleep in that corkscrew position. 
Ash: There's a lot of attitudes going on around here. Don't let me get one. 
Kris: No, it's only just that my spinal cord is getting... 
Ash: Sleep wherever you want, man. Here, take my bed. I'll just, uh... I'll crawl under the bookcase. Who cares if I get splinters in my ears? 
Kris: Never mind.
Ash: Oh, you going to pout about it? Because I've had it up to here with the sad houseguest routine.
Kris: Good night.
== Mr. Fox has a Plan. ==
Mr Fox: I used to do this professionally, and I was very successful at it. I had to get out of it for personal reasons, but I've decided to secretly do one last big job on the sly. I'm bringing you in as my secretary and personal assistant. 
Kylie: Okay!
Mr Fox: This is actually kind of a big deal, so don't just say, "Okay!"
Kylie: Okay. Well, thank you.
Mr. Fox: I'm going to tape this for my records, so don't make a lot of sounds. Meaning, stop rocking. Master plan, phase one, side "A." We'll start with Boggis's chicken house number one. His only security is a few old hunting beagles and a low stone wall. Now, a word about beagles. Never look a beagle directly in the eye. And if...
Kylie: Why not? Beagles aren't so tough.
Mr. Fox: Yeah? Well, first of all, one of these beagles has chronic rabies, which he's on medication for, and if you get bit by him, you have to get shots in your stomach for six months, and second... Listen, I'm not going to justify this. You just pay attention and stop interrupting me. I'm taping this. I pick some blueberries and lace each one with ten milligrams of high potency sleeping powder-- enough to tranquilize a gorilla.
Kylie: How do we make them eat it?
Mr Fox: Beagles love blueberries. MR. FOX: Remember, they aren't very smart, but they're incredibly paranoid, so always kill a chicken in one bite. One bite. Get it? Are you listening to me? I look into your eyes, and I can't tell whether you're getting anything I'm saying.
Ash: Magnesium. Magnesium! 
Sorry.
Ash: Uh, pipette. (snaps) 
Pipette! Oh, sorry. 
Ash: Potassium tri... What are you looking at? Oh, no. 
Beaver Son: Why is your cousin such a wet sandwich?
Kris: I beg your pardon? 
Beaver Son: What's that mean? 
Kris: That means I didn't understand what you just said. A wet sandwich? 
Braver Son: Yeah. A wet sandwich-- he's too short, he dresses like a girl, he's... different.
Kris: Are you a bully? You're starting to sound like a bully.
Beaver Son: Watch this.
Kris: That's... You just destroyed the whole experiment. I better extinguish this magnesium. Stand back.
Anges: . I like your ears.
Kris: M-Mine? 
AGNES: Mm-hmm. 
Kris: Thank you. I like your spots.
Anges: Really? I used to cover them up, but, uh... you know.
Ash: (scoffs) Hmm? You're supposed to be my lab partner. 
Anges: I am.
Ash: No, you're not. You're disloyal.
== Master Plan Phase 1: Boggis Chicken House ==
Mr. Fox: A few beagles, as we discussed, but we're ready for that.
Kylie: Yeah. Back in the old days, didn't we used to do a thing where if somebody saw a wolf, we would all...
Mr Fox: Wolf? What wolf? Nothing? Never mind. Here comes the low stone wall. Not a problem. 
Mr Fox: What the cuss? Where did this giant fence come from? We had a master plan.
Kylie: What's this lightning bolt? 
Mr. Fox: That... could mean maybe this fence might be electric. 
Kylie: Well, I just hope it doesn't mean thunder, 'cause I have a phobia of that.
Mr Fox: Watch this.
Mr Fox: Beagles love blueberries. Didn't I tell you? The master plan is working again. Now, this is the tricky part. One of us has got to jump that barbed wire, slide down to the tire spikes, and flip open the fence latch. Who's it going to be?
Kylie: Not me. Mmm. 
Mr Fox: You know who could do this part easily is Kristofferson. That kid's like a professional, Olympic level...
Kylie: Why don't we run that way? There's no obstacles. 
Mr Fox: Yeah, that's better.
Mr Fox: I said one bite.
Kylie: I'm trying. I have a different kind of teeth from you. I'm an opossum. 
Mr Fox: Give me that. (growling)
Kylie: (gasps) That's so grisly. There's blood and everything. 
Mr Fox: Follow me.
Kylie: All right, what's the master escape plan? 
Mr Fox: Follow me again.
Boggis: Give me that.
Mr Fox: All right. Let's hit the five-and-dime on the way home. We need to make some fake price tags and wrap these chickens in wax paper so it looks like we got them from the butcher shop. Woo-hoo-hoo! Wa-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Mrs Fox: Where did you get this chicken? 
Mr Fox: I picked it up at the five-and-dime last night on my way back. 
Mrs Fox: It's got a Boggis Farms tag around its ankle.
Mr Fox: Huh. Must have escaped from there before I bought it.
Mr Fox: Psst. It's Bunce tonight. He's got a refrigerated smokehouse with a hundred geese...
Kylie: Whoa. I-I thought you said we were only doing one last big job. 
Mr Fox: We are. But it's... not done yet. It's a triple-header.
== Bunce's Refrigerated Smokehouse [Master plan phase 2] ==
MR. FOX (whispering): Come on. Come on. Keep quiet. Shh. Shh.
Let's see some hustle
Kylie: . Coach, we don't have whack-bat where I'm from. What are the rules? 
There's no whack-bat on the other side of the river?
Kylie: No, we mostly just run grass sprints or play acorns. 
Oh. Well, it's real simple. Basically there's three grabbers, three taggers, five twig runners and the player at whack-bat. Center tagger lights a pinecone, chucks it over the basket and the whack-batter tries to hit the cedar stick off the cross rock. Then the twig runners dash back and forth until the pinecone burns out and the umpire calls "hotbox." Finally at the end, you count up however many score downs it adds up to and divide that by nine. 
Kylie: Got it. 
Go in for Ash. Substitution! Ash, come out! You need a breather.
Ash: Wh-what, I'm out? What? I still feel good, Coach. Let me finish this eighth? 
No, no, come on. Step out, step out, let's go.
ASh: Am I getting better, Coach?
Well, you sure as cuss not getting any worse. 
ASh: Really? You mean, you think I could end up being as good as my dad if I keep practicing? 
Your dad? Your dad was probably the best whack-bat player we ever had in this school. No, you don't want to have to compare yourself to that. 
Ash: No, but I think I have some of the same raw, natural talent, don't you? 
You're improving-- let's put it like that.
UMPIRE: Hotbox. 
Kris: Divide that by nine, please. 
Yeah, whoo! That's the first time this kid's ever swung a whack-bat? He really is your father's nephew, isn't he? 
ASh: Not by blood.
No? 
Ash: He's from my mother's side. Oh, yeah. 
Ash: What's that stand for?
Anges: Huh? It's for, uh... it's for pep. Pep. 
Ash: It's a "K." 
Come on now, look alive. Attaboy. 
Anges: We're going steady.
Kylie: What's that? 
Ash: What, what? What, this? Oh, it's nothing. It's just some old trophy I won for being an athlete.
MR. FOX: Mm... I'm supposed to cover this book party at some animal's nest in a tobacco field down the hill. So me and Kylie are going to hop over there and give it a whirl. Don't wait up. 
Mrs Fox: What's the book? 
Mr Fox: Some memoir. I'll get him to sign you a copy. Dinner was... (kissing sound) pitch-perfect.
== Bean's Secret Cider Celler [Master Plan phase 2] ==
Mr Fox: I spotted a couple of broken burglar bars underneath the back door to Bean's secret cider cellar. 
Kylie: We're breaking into Bean's house? 
Mr Fox: Cellar.
Kylie: Where he lives? 
Mr Fox: Where he keeps the cider. 
Ash: Below where he lives.
Mr Fox: Where'd you come from? Will you go back to the tree and do your homework?
Ash: I want to help you steal some cider. 
We're going to a book party, and keep your mouth shut about any cider, because no one ever said that.
Now get out of here! But... But nothing. You're going to get me in a lot of trouble. Besides, you're too little and uncoordinated.
(spits) One, two, three. (frustrated growl)
Where the cuss does that kid get off? Can you believe that? How'd he get tipped off?
You think he's going to tell on us? Before we go any further, from now on can you give me some kind of a signal once in a while just so I know any of this is getting through to you? Is that it? Okay. All right.
Kylie: Uh, there's another one.
[Kris appears]
Mr. Fox: Ah, good, you made it. Anybody see you?
Kris: I don't think so.
Mr. Fox: Here, put this bandit hat on.
Kris: I must say, I'm pleased to be invited, but I'm not sure I should be doing this, Uncle Foxy.
Mr Fox: Why not? 
Kris: Because I don't like to be dishonest with people. 
Mr Fox: Well, just keep your mouth shut, and it won't be a problem. 
Kylie: Yeah, but I don't think he should come with us either.
Mr Fox: : We're not taking a vote. 
Kylie: You know, one time this wolf I saw...
Mr Fox: Wolf? What's with all the wolf talk? Can we give it a rest for once?
Kylie: Look at all this apple juice.
Mr Fox: Apple juice? Apple juice? We didn't come here for apple juice. This is some of the strongest, finest alcoholic cider money can buy. Or that can even be stolen. It burns in your throat, boils in your stomach. Tastes almost exactly like pure melted gold. (loud snap)
Rat: Y'all are trespassing now. Illegally. Round these parts, we don't take kindly to cider poachers. 
Mr Fox: You've aged badly, Rat.
Rat: You're getting a little long in the tooth yourself, partner. (loud snap)
Mr Fox: "Bean security?" What... Why are you wearing that badge? What is it?
Rat: It's my job. Whoa! How's your old lady doing? 
Mr Fox: Do you refer to my wife?
Rat: She was the town tart in her day. Wild and footloose and... (snap) pretty as a mink stole. 
Kylie: Is that true? 
Mr Fox: Of course not. I mean, certainly she lived-- we all did. It was a different time. Let's not use a double standard. She marched against...
Kylie: The town tart? 
Mr Fox: Shut up. That was close, Rat. Be careful.
Rat: Oh, I'm as careful as a...
Mrs Bean: How many jars should I bring up, Franklin?
BEAN: I don't know. Two, I guess. 
Mrs Bean: But you drank three yesterday, though. 
BEAN: All right, take three.
Mrs Bean: Nope, two's plenty.
Kylie: Oh, my cuss. Is she blind?
Kris: I think she might have astigmatism, or possibly a cataract of some form. Anyway, her eyes don't see well.
Mr Fox: Ooh, ah, what I tell you. This kid's a natural, am I right?
== An Emergency Meeting ==
Bean: Oh, so good of you to come. Lovely to see you. You're both looking splendid. How have you been, Walter? In good health, I trust. Nathan, all's well? Wonderful. Any fox problems? 
Borris: Are you joking?
Bunce: It's horrible. 
Boggis: We're miserable. 
Bunce: He's laughing at us.
Boggis: It's humiliating.
Bunce: We're furious. 
Boggis: I don't even want to talk about it.
Bean: Perhaps we ought to kill him.
Boggis: Well, that seems rather obvious. 
Bunce: He's too sneaky. 
Bean: Ah, right, of course. He's very clever, isn't he? Might be a bit difficult, I suppose. But I've already figured out where this fox lives, and tomorrow night, we're going to camp in the bushes, wait for him to come out of the hole in his tree and shoot the cuss to smithereens. How's that grab you, fellas? 
Yeah. Hmm. Yes. Don't see why not.
Mrs Fox: Another book party?
Mr Fox: Oh. Oh, I didn't see you sitting in the dark over there. Yeah, no, actually there's a fire. I just got the call. They said maybe it's arson. I've got to interview the marshal and see what's...
Mrs Fox: Kylie, is he telling the truth?
Kylie: I don't want to be put in the middle of this. 
Mr Fox: Thanks, Kylie.
Mrs Fox: Why is he wearing that bandit hat?
Mr. Fox: His ears were cold. He's not with us. Go back to bed.
Mrs. Fox: If what I think is happening, is happening, it better not be.
== The Shooting ==
Mr Fox: Nice job covering for me. (twig snaps) Next time you...
Mr Fox: All three!
BEAN: Kill him!
Bean: We got the tail, but we missed the fox. Petey, sorry to wake you. Uh, can I trouble you to dash out here right away with, shall we say, three shovels, two pickaxes, 500 rounds of ammunition and, um, a bottle of apple cider?
ASH: It'll-it'll grow back, won't it?
Kylie: Tails don't grow back.
Ash: Tails don't grow back?
Kylie: Mm-mmm. Except for lizards.
Mr Fox: Tails don't grow back. I'm going to be tailless for the rest of my life.
Ash: Well, anyway, it's not half as bad as double pneumonia, right? I mean, his dad's got one foot in the grave and three feet on a banana peel. It's a lot worse than just a...
KRISTOFFERSON: Excuse me, everyone. I'm going to go meditate for half an hour. (leaves to his room]
Mrs Fox: You have got 29 minutes to come up with a proper apology.
Ash: Me? Me, have an apology? He gets a bandit hat. He just got here. He got a bandit hat. Where's my bandit hat? Why didn't I get shot at? It's because you-you-you think I'm no good at anything! Well, maybe you're right. Thanks.
Kylie: Told you not to bring him.
Mr Fox: Why the cuss didn't I listen to my lawyer? At this point, we'll be lucky if we can flip this tree for half of what we've already sunk into it. I won't be able to sleep on my back for six weeks. And on my stomach, I feel congested. Why the cuss didn't I listen to my lawyer?
Mrs Fox: Because you don't listen to anybody.
Mr Fox: What was that?
Mrs Fox: What? I said... 
Mr Fox: Wake up, everybody. They're digging us out.
Mrs Fox: They'll kill the children.
Mr Fox: Over my dead body, they will.
Mr Fox: That's what I'm saying. You'd be dead, too, in that scenario.
Mr Fox: Well, I'm arguing against that. 
Mrs Fox: What are you talking about? 
Mr Fox: Why are you yelling at me?
Kylie: Stop, stop, stop! You say one thing, she says another, and it all changes back again.
Mr Fox: I've got it. There's not a moment to lose. Why didn't I think of this sooner?
Mrs Fox: Think of what?
Mr Fox: We've been trapped before. Diiiiiiiig...! 
Mr Fox: I think it's time for me to give us a pep talk and explain some things. A very long time ago... 
Mrs Fox: May I have a word with you privately?
Mr Fox: Well, we're in a hole here. Where...? 
Mrs Fox: Just on the other side of this mineral deposit. Follow me. (breathing heavily) I'm going to lose my temper now.
Mr Fox: When?
Mrs Fox: Right now.
Mr Fox: Well, when?
Mrs Fox: 12 fox years ago, you made a promise to me, while we were caged inside that fox trap, that if we survived, you would never steal another chicken, turkey, goose, duck, or squab, whatever they are. And I believed you. Why? Why did you lie to me?
Mr Fox: Because I'm a wild animal.
Mrs Fox: You are also a husband. And a father.
Mr Fox: I'm trying to tell you the truth about myself.
Mrs Fox: I don't care about the truth about yourself. This story is too predictable.
Mr Fox: Predictable? Really? What happens in the end?
Mrs Fox: In the end, we all die. Unless you change.
Bean: Petey, listen, run down to the rental department at Malloy Consolidated and place an order for, shall we say, um, one Mighty Max, one Junior Spitfire, and a Longways Tornado 375 Turbo. For immediate delivery.
== The Terrible Tractors ==
Mr Fox: Ash, are you mad at me? I understand if you are, and I'm sorry. I wouldn't have ever involved your cousin if I realized you'd feel this way. It was only ever just because he's kind of a natural. I mean, hey, look at him dig. Anyway, I'm sorry if you're feeling... 
Ash: You know what? I'm going to just put dirt in my ears. Yeah. That's better. I can't hear you now, but keep talking.
Kris: I don't have beagle ticks, by the way.
Ash: Well, uh, me, neither. Who ever said we have beagle... ticks, by the way? 
Kris: Apparently, that's what you've been telling everyone. Beagle ticks and pelt lice.
Ash: I never said that. And you're misquoting me or somebody is. But I'm going to get to the bottom of it.
Kris: Look, Ash, we may or may not ever see the light of day again, but I really like Agnes and I think she likes me.
Ash: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Great. Well, she's a free agent. What do I care? 
Kris: Well, then why are you dead set on... 
Ash: Can I ask you a question? 
Kris: You may. 
Ash: What's the point of sitting on the floor with your legs twisted into a pretzel, talking to yourself for an hour and 45 minutes? It's weird. 
Kris: My father and I first started practicing meditation together when I was... 
Ash: Yeah? Well, that's great, but I'd worry more about what that does for your reputation than whether or not you have beagle ticks or not.
Kris: I don't. Nor pelt lice. 
Mr Fox: One of those slovenly farmers is probably wearing my tail as a necktie by now.
KYLIE: You're paranoid, Foxy.
MAN (on TV): Farmer, thank you. Correct me if I'm misreading the data. You've successfully destroyed the scenery where the alleged fox...
(laughing) Look at Dad's tie.
What will you three prominent farmers do now? 
Bean: Well, Dan, I can tell you what we're not going to do. We're not going to let him go.
Stand clear, please. Stand clear, everyone. Contact! (loud explosion)
Bean: Boggis, how many men have you got working on your farm?
Boggis: Thirty-five.
Bean: Bunce?
Bunce: Thirty-six.
Bean: And I've got 37. That's one, two, three, four, 45... Divided by two is, uh... That's 108 altogether. Petey? Drop everything and assemble all 108 members of our entire three combined work forces. We're going to starve them out and then kill them. Starting in, uh... Shall we say, uh, 15 minutes?
== The Siege Begins ==
REPORTER: An estimated 108 snipers are currently in position surrounding the demolished fox residence. Any local animals would appear to be trapped underground without provisions of any kind at this point. If I had a crystal ball, I'd predict a fairly grisly outcome to this situation. But we'll stay on the scene, watching closely as events continue to unfold.
MR. FOX: This is going to be a total cluster cuss for everybody.
[Three days later...]
Bunce: How long can a fox go without food or water?
Kylie: Well, I can only answer as an opossum, but I don't think I can last more than another couple of hours before I get completely dehydrated and starve to death.
Ash: What's that? Dad? 
MR Fox: (whispering): Not a sound. 
Mr. Fox: You scared the cuss out of us!
Badger: (growling) A lot of good animals are probably going to die because of you! We've been digging in circles for three days! Half the woods have been obliterated. Nobody can get out. Right now, my wife's huddled at the bottom of a flint mine with no food, no water, and 27 starving animal brats.
Phil: I just want to see a little sunshine.
Mr Fox: But you're nocturnal, Phil. Your eyes barely even open on a good day.
Phil: I'm sick of your double talk. We have rights!
Beaver Son: We don't like you, and we hate your dad. Now, grab some of that mud, chew it in your mouth, and swallow it.
Ash: I'm not going to eat mud.
Beaver Son: Cuss yeah, you are.
Kris: Don't do that.
Beaver Son: Why did you take your shoes off?
Kris: So I don't break your nose when I kick it.
Ash: I can fight my own fights.
Kris: No, you can't.
Badger: Those farmers aren't going to quit until they've got you and every member of your family nailed upside down to a bloody stick with your eyes gorged out. 
Mr Fox: This is getting a little too personal. Give me a minute. Take another two... then crossing back and forth... Then he comes over the top and come around. I've got an idea. 
What is it? 
Mr Fox: It could be a good one. 
Lay it on us. 
Mr Fox: It might save our lives.
Say the idea. 
Mr Fox: All right. Let's try it. Go to the flint mine. Tell Mrs. Badger et al that help is on the way.
Mrs Fox: Is help on the way?
Mr Fox: I sure as cuss hope so.
Mrs Fox: Ash... I know what it's like to feel... different.
Ash: I'm not different. Am I? 
Mrs Fox: We all are. Him especially. But there's something kind of fantastic about that, isn't there?
Ash: Hmm, not to me. I prefer to be an athlete.
Mr Fox: Gentlemen, this time we must dig in a very special direction. You gotta kind of feel out the vibe. Dig in.
Mr Fox: Whoo-hoo! Come on! You're not gonna...! Come on. I hit it slap in the middle. Do you get how incredible this is?
♪ About a handsome little fox ♪ ♪ Let me sing to you folks a yarn ♪
♪ Hey, diddle-dee, dottle-da, double-do, doodle-dum ♪ ♪ 'Twas a splendid little fellow ♪
♪ Full of wit and grace and charm ♪ ♪ Say zippee-zee-zuh-zuh, yuppy-yo-doodle-dum ♪
♪ Well, like any little critter needing vittles ♪ ♪ For his little 'uns ♪ ♪ Well, he stole and he cheated ♪
♪ And he lied just to survive ♪ ♪ Well, they doodle-dum, diddle-di ♪ ♪ Dum, diddle-doodle-dum ♪
♪ Doodle-dum, diddle-di, di-doodle-doodle ♪ ♪ Zippy-zo, zippy-zay, zippy, zappy, zoopy-zay ♪ ♪ Zippy-zo, zippy-zay, zippy, zappy, zoopy-zay ♪
♪ Oh, doo-dah, doo-dah-day ♪ ♪ Take a little trip, now to color in the scene ♪
♪ 'Cause the valley... Boggis ♪ ♪ Bunce and Bean ♪ ♪ Now these three crazy yakkers ♪
♪ Had our hero on the run ♪ ♪ Shot the tail off the cuss with a fox-shootin' gun ♪ ♪ But that stylish little fox was as clever as a whip ♪
♪ He was quick as a gopher that was hyperac-i-tive ♪ Yeah! Yeah!
♪ Now those three farmers sit ♪ ♪ T'where there's a hole 'twas once as hill ♪
♪ Singing diddle-dee, doddle-da, dodda-do ♪ ♪ Doodle-dum ♪ ♪ And as far as I can reckon ♪
♪ They're a-sitting up there still ♪ ♪ Singing zippy-zee, zoppy-za, yoppy-yo... ♪
Bean: What are you singing, Petey?
Petey: Just... just making it up as I... as I went along really.
Bean: That's just weak songwriting. You wrote a bad song, Petey!
== Badger's Flint Mine ==
Mr. Fox: We took everything.
Bean: They took everything? Let me call you back, Petey.
Boggis: Well, they could be anywhere by now. 
Bunce: They're digging right under our feet. 
Boggis: Well, in a sense, we've only made matters worse. 
Bunce: We should have stayed out of it.
Bean: I've got an idea. 
I'm still not getting a signal. Is anybody getting any reception?
I-I don't have any signal, but I haven't had...
Crisp up those ducks. Drag those chickens.
Slow 'em down just a little bit. We're a little ahead. Where are the apples? Still now? Do you still have 'em raw? Well, slice 'em up! Let's get 'em in the pan!
Badger: I can imagine how painful, even just emotionally, that must be for you. 
Mr Fox: Well, you know, it's not the end of the world.
Badger: Oh, but, Foxy, how humiliating, having your whole tail blown clean off? 
Mr Fox: Can we drop it?
Agnes: Yeah, really good, sweet and nice. 
Ash: Hey! (whistles) They say you're a natural. True or false? Answer the question.
Kris: True, I guess. 
Ash: Correct. Get out of here, Agnes. I need to have a private word with Kristofferson. 
Kris: Just a minute. She-she doesn't...
Anges: I don't mind. 
Ash: I'm gonna go talk to the... Listen to me. I just had a brainstorm for something fantastic I've got to do, but I can't do it alone. 
Kris: I'm not interested. 
Ash: Hear me out.
Kris: No, thanks. I think foxes from your side of the family take unnecessary risks. 
Ash: Only because they got the guts in their blood, and so do we. Was I a bit rude to Agnes? 
Kris: Yeah. 
Ash: I should probably say something, shouldn't I? I'll say something to her in a minute.
Kris: What's the brainstorm? 
Ash: In a nutshell? We're gonna steal back my dad's tail.
MAN: (over radio): Okay, Chief. Here we go. 
Badger: Well, it took a near catastrophe for all of you to finally take me up on my offer to have you over to the flint mine for dinner, but I guess we have... 
Mr Fox: I'm sorry. Maybe my invitation got lost in the mail. Does anybody know what this badger's talking about? (laughter) No, no, no but Clem's right. In all seriousness. Excuse me, B. I guess we do have these three ugly farmers to thank for one thing: reminding us to be thankful and aware of each other. I'm gonna say it again. Aware.
Kris: I don't feel safe. 
Ash: That's because we're not. You should probably put your bandit hat on now. Personally, I don't have one. But I modified this tube sock. 
Kris: We look good.
Ash: Yeah, we do. Now where would you keep a prized tail if you collected them, if that was your hobby?
Kris: I'd probably hang it over the mantelpiece. 
Ash: Right. Good. In fact... (sniffs) What's that smell? Ever tasted one of Mrs. Bean's famous nutmeg-ginger apple snaps? 
Kris: Well... how do you do?
Ash: They are still warm. 
Kris: Uh-oh, we got it wrong.
Ash: What?
Kris: It's not over the mantelpiece. The necktie?
(hushed): Let's go. Hang on. Hold it. What? Two more. She's there! She can't see. (gasps)
Mr Fox: Look at each other. Here we are. Wow. Now I've already had too much to drink, and I'm feeling sentimental, but I'm gonna say something anyway which nobody wants to admit, but I think is probably true: We beat 'em. We beat those farmers, and now we're triumphantly eating their roasted chicken, their sizzling duck, their succulent turkey, their foie gras... (distant rumble) Where'd the boys go?
MRS. FOX: Wh... Where? Ash? Boys? Kristofferson?
Ash: Oh, my gosh, that was crazy! I can't believe what just happened in there. Come on! Let's get out of here! Let's go! Where are we? Where are we? Where are we? What? Kristofferson?
Mr Fox: What am I hearing again, baby? What's happening? Am I still paranoid? Cider? 
Mr Fox: What just happened? Something with cider. That was dangerous. Is anyone hurt?
Badger: We're all hurt! Me entire flint mine just got demolished.
Kylie: Apple juice. Apple juice flood.
Mr Fox: Let's do a head count. Everybody pick a buddy. Where'd the boys go? Ash? Ash? Kristofferson! Ash?
ASH: I'm here!
Mr Fox: Ash, who's your buddy?
Ash: Kristofferson.
Mr Fox: Where is he?
Ash: I don't know.
Mr Fox: Why not?
Ash: I lost him.
Mr Fox: You lost him?! Where were you?
Ash: I lost him. We were... I was in the kitchen. We were trying to find the necktie.
Mr Fox: What are you talking about?!
Ash: It's my fault.
Mr. Fox: Oh, no. Where did you get that nutmeg-ginger apple snap, and why are you wearing that fake bandit hat?!
Ash: We went to steal back your tail.
What? 
BOTH: Kristofferson! Kristofferson! Kristofferson! Kristofferson! Kristofferson!
Kristofferson! Kristofferson! Kristofferson! Kristofferson!
Bean: Wrap this wet little mutt in a newspaper and put him in a box with some holes punched in the top.
Beaver: There's only one way out of this sewer, but the manhole cover's closed, and there's a station wagon parked on it. Which means we're permanently stuck down here. 
Badger: You still think we beat them, Foxy?
Mr Fox: Badger's right. These farmers aren't going to quit until they catch me. I shouldn't have lied to your face. I shouldn't have fallen off the wagon and started secretly stealing chickens on the sly. I shouldn't have pushed these farmers so far and tried to embarrass them and cuss with their heads. I enjoyed it, but I shouldn't have done it. And now there's only one way out. Maybe if I hand myself over and let them kill me, stuff me and hang me over their mantelpiece... 
Mrs Fox: You'll do no such thing.
Mr Fox: Darling, maybe they'll let everyone else live.
Mrs Fox: Oh, why'd you have to get us into this, Foxy?
Mr Fox: I don't know, but I have a possible theory. I think I have this thing where I need everybody to think I'm the greatest-- the quote, unquote, Fantastic Mr. Fox. And if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and kind of intimidated by me, then I don't feel good about myself. Foxes traditionally like to court danger, hunt prey and outsmart predators. And that's what I'm actually good at. I think at the end of the day, I'm just...
Mrs Fox: I know. We're wild animals. 
Mr Fox: I guess we always were. I promise you if I had all this to do over again I'd have never let you down. It was always more fun when we did it together anyway. I love you, Felicity. 
Mrs Fox: I love you, too. But I shouldn't have married you.
Mr Fox: Did I ever tell you about the time I learned we were going to have a cub?
Ash: In the fox trap?
Mr Fox: Right.
We were at gunpoint, and your mother... 
Ash: Says she's pregnant. 
Mr Fox: Let me tell it, okay? I had no idea how we were going to get out of this jam, and then it hit me. What do foxes do better than any other animal? 
Ash: Dig. 
Mr Fox: You're stepping on my lines.
Ash: Right. Keep telling it. 
Mr Fox: So we dug. And the whole time I put paw over paw scooping dirt and pebble with your mother digging like crazy beside me, I kept wondering who's this little boy going to be? 
Ash: Or girl.
Mr Fox: Or girl, right. Because at that point we didn't know. Ash, I'm so glad he was you. It's not your fault, it's mine. Good-bye.
Badger: Well, I guess we should, uh, probably split into a certain number of groups and start doing something, right? 
Kris: Could I have a glass of water?
Badger: (echoes): Uh, excuse me. Excuse me? 
Badger: Kristofferson? Hello? Can you hear us? Kristofferson?
RAT: They got the boy. They want to trade the son for his papa.
BADGER: Why'd they right this in letters cut out of magazines. 
Kylie: To protect their identities. Oh, right, but then why'd they sign their names? Plus, we already knew who they were because they're trying to kill us.
BADGER: "Mr. Fox, we have your son. If you ever want to see him alive again..."
ASH: You took the wrong fox. I'm his son.
Rat: I can see the resemblance.
Mr Fox: What was that?
ASH: Dad!
ASh: Stop, man. Come on, stop! 
Rat: Whoo-ee! Look at you, girl. You're still as fine looking as a crème brûlée.
Mrs Fox: Am I being flirted with by a psychotic rat?
MRS. FOX: Ash...!
Ash: Let me out!
Mr Fox: Excuse me. May I cut in?
Rat: The boy's locked in an apple crate on top of a gun locker in the attic of Bean Annex.
Mr Fox: Would you have told me if I didn't kill you first?
Rat: Never.
Mr Fox: All these wasted years. What were you looking for, Rat?
Ash: He's trying to say something, Dad.
Rat: Cider.
MR. FOX: Here you are, Rat-- a beaker of Bean's finest secret cider.
Rat: Like... melted gold.
Ash: He redeemed himself.
Mr Fox: Redemption? Sure. But in the end, he's just another dead rat in the garbage pail behind a Chinese restaurant.
Kylie: He went bananas.
Mr Fox: Yes, he did. My suicide mission's been canceled. We're replacing it with a go-for-broke rescue mission. 
== A go-for-broke rescue mission ==
Mr Fox: In a way, I'm almost glad that flood interrupted us because I don't like the toast I was giving. I'm going to start over. When I look down this table with the exquisite feast set before us, I see two terrific lawyers, a skilled pediatrician, a wonderful chef, a savvy real estate agent, an excellent tailor, a crack accountant, a gifted musician, pretty good minnow fisherman and possibly the best landscape painter working on the scene today. Maybe a few of you might even read my column from time to time, who knows-- I tend to doubt it. I also see a room full of wild animals. Wild animals with true natures and pure talents. Wild animals with scientific sounding Latin names that mean something about our DNA. Wild animals each with his own strengths and weaknesses due to his or her species. Anyway, I think it may very well be all the beautiful differences among us that might just give us the tiniest glimmer of a chance of saving my nephew and letting me make it up to you for getting us into this-this crazy whatever it is. I don't know, it's just a thought. Thank you for listening. Cheers, everyone.
KYLIE: Let's eat. Wha-what? I was just playing along with the bit he's doing.
Mr Fox: Will you join me?
Mrs Fox: I will.
(all agreeing) 
Mr Fox: Thank you. All right, let's start planning. Who knows shorthand? Great. Linda, Lutra Lutra, you got some dry paper? Here we go. Mole, Taipa Europea, what do you got?
Phil: I can see in the dark? 
Mr Fox: That's incredible. We can use that. Linda?
Linda: Got it. 
Mr Fox: Rabbit, or Oryctolagus Cuniculus.
Linda: I'm fast.
Mr Fox: You bet you are. Linda? 
Lidnda: Got it.
Mr Fox: Beaver, Castor Fiber. 
Beaver: I can chew through wood. 
Mr Fox: Amazing. Linda?
Linda: Got it.
Mr Fox: Badger, Meles Meles. 
Badger: Demolitions expert.
Mr Fox: What? Since when? 
Badger: Explosions, flames, burning things.
Mr Fox: Demolitions expert, okay. Linda? 
Linda: Got it.
Mr Fox: Weasel, Mustela Nivalis!
Weasel: Stop yelling. 
Mr Fox: Oh, all right. Ha! Whoo-hoo! All right, Ash, you get these little kids organized and put together some kind of K.P. unit or something to keep this sewer clean. It's good for morale. 
Ash: Done. What's K.P.? 
Agnes: Um, I think it means janitors.
VOLE: Hey, hey. Yo, over here. Hey. I want to go with you, too. I want to fight.
Mr Fox: Good, fabulous. Microtus Pennsyvanicus. 
Kylie: I-I-I didn't get a job yet, or a Latin name. What's my strength? 
Mr Fox: Listen, you're Kylie. You're an unbelievably nice guy. Your job is really just to be available, I think. I don't know your Latin name. I doubt they even had opossums in ancient Rome.
Mr Fox: It's stupendous. Where's us?
Mrs Fox: Right here. 
Mr Fox: Paint an "X." "Dear farmers Boggis, Bunce and Bean, "I have no alternative but to agree to your terms. "Move the station wagon and open the manhole cover below the foot of the drainpipe "next to the cobbler's shop "and meet me there today at 10:00 a.m. sharp. "I will hand myself over to you in exchange for the boy's safe return. Cordially, Mr. Fox."
Bean: Why did he write this in letters cut out of magazines?
Boggis: I don't know, but you did the same thing. 
Bean: I don't trust this guy. Anyway, set up the ambush.
Mr Fox: Synchronize your clocks. The time is now 9:45 a.m. Here, put these bandit hats on.
== Master Plan B ==
Mr Fox: Did you bring the boy? 
Bean: Of course we did. Say something, kid.
KRISTOFFERSON (on recording): Excuse me. Excuse me... 
Mr Fox: Come on. That doesn't sound anything like him. It's amateur night in Dixie.
Bean: What the cuss is he burning? Is that all you've got, Mr. Fox?
Phil: 28 pinecones fired. 22 targets hit. Decoy phase, go.
Rabbit: Yes, sir. Dominus... 
D-Dad's on fire!
Phil: Foxy, you're on. 
Mr Fox: We're ready. I'm going to find him, and I'm going to bring him back. 
Mrs Fox: I know you will. Contact!
Kylie: Are you scared of wolves? 
Mr Fox: Scared? No. I have a phobia of them. 
Kylie: Well, I have a thing about thunder.
Mr Fox: Why? That's stupid. 
Ash: I don't like needles, myself. 
Mr Fox: Where did you come from again? How did you get in the sidecar? I feel like I'm losing my mind. 
I've got a fox on a motorcycle with a littler fox and, uh, what looks like to be an opossum in the sidecar, riding north on Farm Lane 7. Does that sound like anything to anybody?
Bean: (on radio): Red, it's Franklin Bean. Turn around, get the cuss back here and pick us up on the ASAP.
Here we go. (grunts)
Mr Fox: Kylie, you got a credit card? 
Kylie: Sure. 
Mr Fox: See, this is what I was saying about how good you are, just being available for... A titanium card? How the cuss did you qualify for this?
Kylie: I pay my bills on time. I've always had good credit.
Ha. Ha. Come on. Wait. Wait a second.
What's this thing you do, the whistle with the clicking sound?
Mr Fox: What do you mean? That's my trademark.
Mr Fox: Give me a blueberry.
What? Hmm? Blueberry. You didn't say anything...
You forgot the blueberries? I did say it. I wrote it on your paw. Oh... Yeah. It's written on the front of your paw. Oh, yeah.
Ash: What's that white stuff around his mouth?
Kylie: I think he eats soap.
Mr. Fox: That's not soap.
Kylie: Well, why does he have that bubbly...
Mr. Fox: He's rabid. With rabies. I've heard about this beagle. You two go ahead while I distract him.
ASH: Hey. I can fit through there. You want to know why?
Kylie: Why?
Ash: Because I'm little. Give me that shoelace.
Ash: (whispering): Psst. Psst. It's me. I'm rescuing you.
Kris; I've got mixed feelings about that.
Ash: I don't blame you. Can you give me a karate lesson real quick?
Kris: Okay. Stand like this. Position yourself on the balls of your feet. Close your eyes. You weigh less than a slice of bread.
Mr Fox: I feel like there's a tenderness in your eyes, isn't there? Yes, I'm right.
Kris: Let's review the principal agility techniques. Jumping, flipping, landing.
Mr Fox: You're a good boy. A bit lonely, maybe, but terribly sweet. What's your name, Spitz? That's German, isn't it?
Kris: Now, for a rudimentary version of the cyclone chop. First, you need to get a running start-- which obviously, I can't do in here-- then, as you arrive at the destination of the chop, lean and thrus into the point of contact-- paw remains open and straight-- then withdraw instantaneously. Remember, it's the pull back that matters. The pull back generates the force of the impact.
Ash: Got it. Yeah, I'm just going to chop this thing right off.
Kylie: He's gonna do it.
[He looks back at Mr. Fox, still inching closer to the rabid beagle.]
Mr. Fox: Why, you're just a sweet as....
Kylie: I thought he said, "Never look a beagle in the eye."
Kris: Did-did you chop it?
Ash: Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.
[The cage tips slowly backwards and falls off the shelf. Ash looks horrified. Kristofferson braces himself. The apple crate hits the floor and shatters into pieces.]
Ash: Kristofferson? Kristofferson?
Kris: Uh, I-I'm okay. I'm okay.
Ash: I'm sorry.
Kris: That's all right. You were just trying to unlock the apple crate.
Ash: No, I mean I'm sorry about...
Kris: Oh, you mean from before? The apology you owed me which you never actually said.
Ash: Right. I'm grumpy. I spit. I wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I'm just... different, apparently. But it won't happen again. Kristofferson, I'm sorry.
Kris: That's all right, too. Throw me the shoelace, please.
Kylie: You okay?
Mr. Fox: He's wearing it. Your tractors uprooted my tree. Your posse hunted my family. Your gunmen kidnapped my nephew. Your rat insulted my wife and you shot off my tail. I'm not leaving here without that necktie.
Bean: Kill him! (rapid gunfire)
Mr Fox: Actually, we should just go. Where did I park? 
Ash: I weigh less than a slice of bread.
Mr Fox: What? 
Ash: I'll be right back. 
Mr Fox: Ash. (rapid gunfire)
Mr Fox: Dodge the grabbers, duck the taggers, jump the twig basket and knock the cedar stick off the cross rock.
Ash: Hotbox!
Mr Fox: Ash, that was pure wild animal craziness. Here, put this bandit hat on. Goggles! 
Boggis, Bunce and Bean ♪
♪ One fat, one short, one lean ♪ ♪ These horrible crooks, so different in looks ♪ ♪ But nonetheless equally mean ♪
♪ Boggis, Bunce and Bean ♪ ♪ One fat, one short, one lean... ♪ 
Ash: Are you gonna.....
Mr Fox: Holy swearing cuss!
Bean: Petey, bring us a ladder, please.
Phil: Stand by. I just intercepted a high-frequency radio signal with the can, and I think they're on their way home!
Kylie: Don't turn around. 
Mr Fox: What? Where'd he come from? Where'd you come from? What are you doing here? Canis Lupus. Vulpes Vulpes. I don't think he speaks English or Latin. (speaking French) I'm asking if he thinks we're in for a hard winter. He doesn't seem to know. I have a phobia of wolves. What a beautiful creature. Wish him luck, boys. 
Kylie: Luck to you.
Ash: Good luck, Wolf.
Kris: Good luck out there.
These three, in this reporter's opinion, obsessed farmers remain convinced the fox in question will eventually reappear. Why? 
Boggis: Because foxes aren't meant to live in a sewer. 
Bunce: They're refugees! 
Boggis: All they have to eat down there is, um...
Bunce: Trash! 
Bean: And not much of it. 
Uh-huh. Thank you, farmers. For Action 12, this is Dan Peabody. 
Well, what are we looking at?
It's just his tonsils, they're a little swollen. 
Well, is it serious? 
No, hopefully he won't have to lose them. 
Lose the tonsils?
(TV playing) 
I'm hungry. 
Well, have some, uh, water. 
Here. Try to keep things as simple...
I like wallpaper. 
This is the first time I've been to a party where no one serves anything. 
(chanting melodically) Om...
Mr Fox: My darlings. 
ASH: Where are we going?
MR. FOX: Nobody knows. 
Ash: We were in the middle of a meditation practice. 
Mr Fox: Watch your step. Let's see now. Where does this lead? 
Mrs Fox: Oh, no. Foxy, it's filthy.
Mr Fox: Keep a good grip, everyone. 
Ash: This better be worth it. 
MR. FOX: I think I see a little sliver of light. What's this? Is it a door? 
Mrs Fox: You're a terrible actor, Foxy.
Kris: Do you smell something? Is that... (sniffing) Freon? 
Mr Fox: Shh! I'm gonna crack open this trapdoor and see if something's on the other side. I highly doubt it though. It's probably just more sewer. You know, wouldn't it be surprising if... 
Ash: Open it!
Mr Fox: Hey, look! There's a whole enormous, glorious, gigantic supermarket up here. And they close early on weekends. 
Anges: Wow! Wow, nice job!
Mrs Fox: You really are kind of a quote, unquote, Fantastic Fox.
Mr Fox: I try. Get enough to share with everybody and remember, the rabbits are vegetarians and badgers supposedly can't eat walnuts.
Mr Fox: I guess now that Kristofferson's dad's already down to a single pneumonia and getting better, you'll be going home soon, huh? 
Mrs Fox: Actually, when he spoke to me from the hospital, he said he was already talking to Weasel about real estate availabilities down in our sewer system. 
Mr Fox: Oh, really? Well, now is the time to buy.
Mr Fox: Okay, I get it. Is that your trademark?
Mrs Fox: I'm pregnant again. 
Mr Fox: (gasps) Wow. I think we're both glowing.
Ash: Do another toast, Dad. Okay, uh...
Mr Fox: Let's see, uh, right, okay. They say all foxes are slightly allergic to linoleum. But it's cool to the paw. Try it. They say my tail needs to be dry-cleaned twice a month. But now it's fully detachable. See? They say our tree may never grow back. But one day something will. Yes, these crackles are made of synthetic goose and these giblets come from artificial squab. And even these apples look fake. But at least they've got stars on them. I guess my point is, we'll eat tonight and we'll eat together and even in this not particularly flattering light, you are without a doubt, the five and a half most wonderful wild animals I've ever met in my life. So let's raise our boxes. To our... survival. (slurping loudly)
Mr Fox: How was that?
Ash: Mm... that was a good toast.
Category:Transcripts
Category:20th Century Fox Transcripts