Notes

[Scene: The chickens are trying to stealthily escape the farm at night.]

Bunty: Shush!

Bunty: I'm stuck!

Ginger: Get back!

Mrs Tweedy: Mr Tweedy. What is that chicken doing outside the fence?

Mr Tweedy: Oh! Haha, I don't know love, I-

Mrs Tweedy: Just deal with it. Now.

Mr Tweedy: I'll teach you to make a fool out of me.

Mr Tweedy: Now let that be a lesson to the lot of you! No chicken escapes from Tweedy's farm!

[Scene: One morning after a failed escape attempt the previous night.]

Babs: Morning, Ginger. Back from holiday?

Ginger: I wasn't on holiday Babs, I was in solitary confinement.

Babs: Oh, it's nice to get a bit of time to yourself isn't it?

Fowler: Roll call! Come along there, you'll be late for parade! Pip, pip. Quick march. Left, right, left, right, left, right... Come on! Smarten up!

Bunty: Ow!

Fowler: Disclipine! Order! Back in my RAF days when the senior officer called for a scramble, you;d hop in the old crate and tally-ho! Chocks away!

Bunty: Give over you old fool, they just want to count us.

Fowler: H-How dare you talk back to a senior ranking officer? Why back in my RAF days...

Ginger: Fowler, they're coming. Back in line!

Fowler: Oh, alright. There'll be a stern reprimand for you lad, you're grounded.

Fowler: Atten-TION!

Mac: Welcome back, hen. Is there a new plan?

Mac: I thought we tried going under? Ah, over. Right.

Ginger: How's the egg count?

Bunty: I've laid five eggs this morning, FIVE! Well chuffed with that, I was-

Fowler: SHUSH!

Ginger: Oh no... Edwina! Bunty, why didn't you give her some of yours?

Bunty: I would have-- she didn't tell me! She didn't tell anyone!

Babs: Ooh, is Edwina off on holiday?

Ginger: We've got to get out of here...

Mac: Ginger! Are we still on?

Ginger: Oh, we're on alright. Spread the word Mac: Meeting tonight in Hut 17.

[Scene: At the same night, the chickens huddle together to conduct a new escape plan.]

Nick: You called. Nick and-

Fetcher: Fetcher.

Nick: At your service.

Ginger: Over here.

Ginger: We need some more things.

Nick: Right you are, Miss. How about this quality hand-crafted tea-set?

Ginger: Uh, no-

Fetcher: Or this lovely necklace and pendant?

Ginger: It's lov-

Nick: 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!

Fetcher: That is French.

Nick: That's two hats in one, Miss. For parties-- for weddings. Oh, Madame, this makes you look like a vision, like a dream!

Fetcher: Like a duck.

Ginger: No, thank you. We're making this; we need these things. Can you get them?

Nick: Oof, this is a big job, Miss. Oh, bigger than the others, oh no no... this is gonna cost.

Ginger: Same as always; one bag of seed.

Nick: You call this pay?

Fetcher: It's chicken feed.

Ginger: What else could we give you?

Nick: Eggs.

Ginger: Eggs?!

Fetcher: Eggs!

Ginger: We can't give you our eggs, they're too valuable!

Nick: And so are we. After you, Fetcher.

Fetcher: ...After I what?

Nick: Move!

Fetcher: Wooah!

[Scene: Inside the Tweedys' house; Mr Tweedy is growing suspicious of the chickens.]

Mrs Tweedy: [mumbling] -nine shillings and thruppence... seven and six pence times three... two and nine... four pence ha'penny...

Mrs Tweedy: Doh! Stupid, worthless creatures! I'm sick and tired of making minuscule profits.

Mr Tweedy: Ohh, yes. Those chickens are up to something...

Mrs Tweedy: Quiet. I'm onto something.

Mr Tweedy: They're organised, I know it.

Mrs Tweedy: I said quiet.

Mr Tweedy: That ginger one... I reckon she's their leader...

Mrs Tweedy: 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!

Mr Tweedy: B-But-

Mrs Tweedy: It's all in your head, Mr Tweedy. Say it.

Mr Tweedy: It's all in my head, it's all in my head...

Mrs Tweedy: Now you keep telling yourself that, because I don't want to hear another word about it. Is that clear?

Mr Tweedy: Yes, love... but you know that Ginger one-

Mrs Tweedy: 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 ORGANISED!

[Scene: The chickens meet together inside Hut 17.]

Ginger: Order! Order! Quiet, everyone! Settle down. I would like to call to order the big- oh.... Please, if you could just-

Fowler: Quiet there! Let's have some discipline in the ranks, what what!

Ginger: Thank you, Fowler-

Fowler: In my RAF days we were never allowed to waste time with unnecessary chit-chat.

Ginger: Yes thank you, Fowler.

Fowler: I... Right. *ahem* Carry on.

Ginger: 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.

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!

Chickens: *Screaming*

Fowler: Good grief! The turnip's bought it!

Ducky: Farmer's coming!

Fowler: Operation Cover-up!

Mrs Tweedy: MR TWEEDY!

Mr Tweedy: Ouch-

Mrs Tweedy: WHERE ARE YOU?

Mr Tweedy: It's all in your head, It's all in your head, it's all in your head...

Ginger: Think everyone think. What haven't we tried yet?

Bunty: We haven't tried not trying to escape.

Babs: Hmm, that might work!

Ginger: What about Edwina? How many more empty nests will it take?

Bunty: Well perhaps it wouldn't be empty if she'd spent more time laying and less time escaping.

Ginger: So laying eggs all your life and then getting plucked, stuffed, and roasted is good enough for you is it?

Babs: It's a living.

Ginger: 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... well it has wide-open spaces and lots of trees and grass. Can you imagine that cool, green grass...

Ducky: Who feeds us?

Ginger: We feed ourselves.

Agnes: Well, where's the farm?

Ginger: There is no farm.

Babs: Then... where does the farmer live?

Ginger: There is no farmer, Babs.

Babs: Is he on holiday?

Ginger: He isn't anywhere. Don't you get it? There's no morning egg-count, no farmers, no dogs and coops and keys and no fences!

Bunty: In all my life, I've never heard such a fantastic... load of TRIPE!

Bunty: Oh face the facts, ducks. The chances of us getting out of here are a million to one.

Ginger: ...Then there's still a chance.

Fowler: Ouch!

[Scene: Ginger steps out of the hut and breaks down in tears, slowly losing hope. She then meets someone who eventually turns her life around.]

Ginger: *in tears* Oh no, oh no, oh no... what am I doing... Who're you trying to fool, you can't lead these bunch of- Grr... Heaven help us...

Rocky: *screaming in the distance* FREEDOM!!!

Ginger: *laughing*

Rocky: *falling and hitting a bunch of stuff* OOF! WAAAGH!!! WOOAH!

Rocky: Thank you ladies & gentlemen, you've been a wonderful audience...

Chickens: Ouch! By'eck!

Ginger: That's it! Get him inside, quickly.

[Scene: Inside the hut, meeting Rocky]

Ginger: This is our way out of here.

Babs: We'll make posters?

Ginger: *sighs* What's on the poster, Babs? What's on the poster? We'll fly out!

Babs: He must be very important to have his picture taken. What do you suppose he does?

Bunty: Well isn't it obvious? He's a professional flying rooster. He flies from farm to farm giving demonstrations.

Babs: Do you suppose?

Bunty: Oh, absolutely.

Rocky: *muttering to himself* Ugh, no, no not in there... no get out, g-gotta get, AH-!

Rocky: AHH! Who're you? Where am I? What's going on- Ouch! What happened to my wing...?

Ginger: You took a rather nasty fall.

Mac: And sprained the interior tendon connecting your radius to your humerus. I gave her a wee bit of a tweak Jimmy and wrapped her up.

Rocky: ...Was that English?

Ginger: She said you sprained your wing; she fixed it.

Babs: And I made the bandage!

Bunty: I- I carried you in!

Chickens: *all excitedly talking at once*

Rocky: Woah, woah, woah! Haha... let's back up and start from the top. Where am I?

Ginger: You're right, how rude of us... we- we're just very exci- uh... This is a chicken farm.

Babs: And we're the chickens.

Rocky: Yeah I'm with you so far. Chicken farm, chickens...

Fowler: I don't like the look of this one. His eyes are too close together.

Ginger: Fowler, please-

Fowler: And he's a Yank!

Rocky: Easy pops. Cockfighting's illegal where I come from.

Bunty: And where is that exactly?

Rocky: Oh, just a little place I call the land of the free, and the home of the brave...

Mac: Scotland!

Rocky: No! America!

Chickens: Oooh! America!

Fowler: POPPYCOCK! Pushy Americans, always showing up late for every war. Overpaid, oversexed, and over here!

Rocky: Hey, what's eating Grandpa?

Ginger: Oh, don't mind him, Mr... Mr?

Rocky: The name's Rocky. Rocky the Rhode Island Red, Rhodes for short.

Agnes: Rocky Rhodes...?

Rocky: Catchy, ain't it?

Ginger: Um, Mr Rhodes? Is this you?

Rocky: Uh... who wants to know?

Ginger: A group of rather desperate chickens. You see, if it is you, then you just might be the answer to our prayers.

Chickens: *giggling with anticipation*

Rocky: Well then call me a miracle doll-face, 'cause that's me.

Chickens: *cheering*

Background chicken: And what brings you to England, Mr Rhodes?

Rocky: Why... all the beautiful English chicks, of course.

Bunty: Give over!

Rocky: You see I'm a traveler by nature. I did that whole barnyard thing for a while but I couldn't really get into it. Hi, how are ya. Nope! The open road, that's more my style. Yep... Just give me a pack on my back and point me where the wind blows.

Rocky: In fact, you know what they call me back home? You're gonna love this: The Lone Free-Ranger. Isn't that great?

Chickens: Oooh!

Ginger: I knew it was possible...

Rocky: Oh, it's possible alright.

Ginger: I knew the answer would come.

Rocky: Amen!

Ginger: We're all going to fly over that fence, and Mr Rhodes is going to show us how! Right?

Rocky: That's... w- wait, what? Did you say... fly?

Ginger: You could teach us!

Rocky: ...No I can't. Listen, shh. You hear that? That's the open road calling my name and I was born to answer that call. Bye.

Babs: He must have very good hearing.

[Scene: Rocky tries to avoid Ginger outside, but is then hunted for by his previous owner.]

Rocky: Oh-kay, okay, where's the exit...er, this way.

Ginger: Mr Rhodes? Um... perhaps I didn't explain our situation properly? We lay eggs, day in and day out; and when we can't lay anymore... they kill us.

Rocky: It's a cruel world, doll-face. Might as well get used to it.

Ginger: Which part of 'they kill us' do you not understand?

Rocky: Hey, I got my own set of problems to worry about. Besides this bird-cage can't be that hard to bust out of. In fact, watch me.

Ginger: I-It's not so hard to get one chicken out of here, or even two. But this is about all of us.

Rocky: ...All of you?

Ginger: That's what I've been trying to tell you.

Rocky: Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You wanna get every chicken in this place out of here at the SAME TIME?!

Ginger: Of course.

Rocky: You're certifiable! You can't pull off a stunt like that, that's suicide!

Ginger: Where there's a will, there's a way.

Rocky: Couldn't agree more, and I will be leaving that way.

Ginger: But, Mr Rhodes, please-

Rocky: *singing to himself* Ohh, I'm the type of guy... that likes to roam around... I'm never in one place...

Rocky *gasp*

Ginger: So that's it, you're from the circus!

Rocky: Shhh!!!

Ginger: You're on the run, aren't you?

Rocky: You wanna keep it down?! I'm trying to lay low here!

Ginger: I should turn you in right now.

Rocky: You wouldn't... would you?

Ginger: Give me one reason why I shouldn't.

Rocky: Because I'm... cute?

Ginger: BRAAWWWK!!!

Rocky: Hey, hey, hey- what kind of crazy chick are you?! Do you know what'll happen if he finds me?!

Ginger: It's a cruel world.

Rocky: I just decided, I don't like you.

Ginger: I just decided, I don't care. Now show us how to fly.

Rocky: With this wing?

Ginger: Teach us then!

Rocky: No!

Ginger: BRAAWWWK!!!

Mrs Tweedy: He's... valuable, you say?

Circus Man: Sure.

Mrs Tweedy: Get the torch.

Rocky: Now you listen here sister, I'm not going back to that life. I'm a lone-free ranger. Emphasis on 'free'.

Ginger: And that's what we want, freedom!

Rocky: *gasp*

Ginger: Fancy that. They're coming this way.

Rocky: Oh- Oh no! Oh no, they're onto me!

Ginger: Teach us to fly and we'll hide you.

Rocky: And if I don't?

Ginger: BRAAWW-

Rocky: Was your father by any chance, a VULTURE?!

Ginger: Do we have a deal?

Rocky: Woah-!

Rocky: Time to make good on that deal, doll-

Ginger: The name, is Ginger.

Rocky: WAGH!

[Scene: Inside the hut, where Rocky is hidden in a box.]

Ginger: Comfortable?

Rocky: Not... really...

Ginger: Maybe this'll help.

Rocky: Ugh... nice hideout. Ouch! I had more room in my egg...

Ginger: We've held up our end of the deal, tomorrow you hold up yours.

Rocky: What deal?

Ginger: The flying!

Rocky: Oh yeah, right right right. Don't worry, I'll teach you everything I know. Now... which bunk is mine?

Chickens: *all excitedly talking at once*

[Scene: Rocky bunking with Fowler in his hut.]

Fowler: Absolutely OUTRAGEOUS! Asking a senior officer to share his quarters; and with a non-commissioned Yank no less! Ergh, why back in my day I'd never-

Rocky: HEY! You weren't exactly my first-choice either. And scoot over! Your wing's on my side of the bunk.

Fowler: YOUR side of the bunk? The whole bunk is my side of the bunk!

Rocky: Just-! ...What's that smell? Is that your breath...?

Fowler: Absolutely outrageous...