He Will Paw Me Once Again I Say Listen Here You Little O Chubby Stop Being O So Pushy

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Mole: I but want to see... a picayune sunshine.

Mr. Fox: But y'all're nocturnal, Phil. Your eyes barely open up on a adept solar day.

Mole: I'thou sick of your double talk, nosotros have rights!

Mr. Trick: Redemption? Sure. Simply in the terminate, he's just another dead rat in a garbage pail behind a Chinese restaurant.

Mrs. Fox: [to Ash] Nosotros're all dissimilar.

[indicates Mr. Fox]

Mrs. Fox: Peculiarly him. But there's something kind of fantastic about that, isn't there?

Mr. Fox: [sighs] Who am I, Kylie?

Kylie: Who how? What at present?

Mr. Fox: Why a fox? Why not a equus caballus, or a beetle, or a baldheaded hawkeye? I'm saying this more equally, like, existentialism, y'all know? Who am I? And how can a trick ever be happy without, you'll forgive the expression, a chicken in its teeth?

Kylie: I don't know what you're talking about, just it sounds illegal.

Mr. Fox: They say all foxes are slightly allergic to linoleum, but it'due south cool to the paw - try it. They say my tail needs to be dry cleaned twice a month, but now it'south fully detachable - run across? They say our tree may never abound dorsum, merely 1 mean solar day, something will. Yes, these crackles are made of synthetic goose and these giblets come from artificial squab and fifty-fifty these apples look false - simply at least they've got stars on them. I estimate my point is, we'll swallow tonight, and we'll swallow together. And even in this not specially flattering light, you are without a doubt the five and a one-half virtually wonderful wild animals I've ever met in my life. And so allow's heighten our boxes - to our survival.

Mrs. Flim-flam: I'm going to lose my temper at present.

Mr. Fox: When?

Mrs. Fox: Correct now.

Mr. Fob: Well, when...

[Mrs Play tricks slashes his face]

Mr. Trick: OW!

Mrs. Fox: Twelve play tricks years ago, you made a promise to me, while we were caged inside that fox trap, that if nosotros survived, you would never steal some other craven, turkey, goose, duck, or a squab - any they are, and I believed you lot. Why? Why did y'all lie to me?

Mr. Trick: Because I'thou a wild animal.

Mrs. Flim-flam: You are also a married man and a father.

Mr. Pull a fast one on: I'chiliad trying to tell you the truth nigh myself.

Mrs. Fox: I don't intendance about the truth about yourself. This story is also predictable.

Mr. Play a joke on: Anticipated? Really? What happens in the cease?

Mrs. Fox: In the end, we all dice. Unless you lot change.

Badger: In summation, I think yous just got to non exercise it, man. That'southward all.

Mr. Play a joke on: I understand what you're saying, and your comments are valuable, but I'm gonna ignore your advice.

Badger: The cuss you are.

Mr. Play a joke on: The cuss am I? Are you cussing with me?

Badger: No, yous cussing with me?

Mr. Fox: Don't cussing point at me!

Badger: If you're gonna cuss with somebody, y'all're non gonna cuss with me, you piddling cuss!

Mr. Fox: You're not gonna cuss with me!

[Both start snarling at each other, and then settle downwardly]

Mr. Fox: Just buy the tree.

Badger: Okay.

Ash: What's that white stuff effectually his mouth?

Kylie: I think he eats soap.

Mr. Fox: That's non soap.

Kylie: Wha- why does he have that...

Mr. Fox: He'southward rabid. With rabies.

Ash: You should probably put your bandit chapeau on now. Personally, I- I don't take one, simply I modified this tube sock.

[they put on their 'hats']

Kristofferson: We look good.

Ash: Yeah. We do.

[Charabanc Skip is teaching Kristofferson the rules of Whackbat]

Coach Skip: Basically, there's three grabbers, three taggers, five twig runners, and a player at Whackbat. Eye tagger lights a pine cone and chucks it over the basket and the whack-batter tries to hitting the cedar stick off the cross rock. And then the twig runners nuance back and forth until the pine cone burns out and the umpire calls hotbox. Finally, you lot count upwards however many score-downs it adds up to and divide that by nine.

Kristofferson: Got it.

Beaver's Son: [lays down a box of supplies during a Scientific discipline lab grade] Why's your cousin such a moisture sandwich?

Kristofferson: I beg your pardon?

Beaver's Son: What's that hateful?

Kristofferson: That ways that I don't empathise what yous but said. A wet sandwich?

Beaver'southward Son: Yeah! A moisture sandwich. He's too short, he dresses similar a girl, he'southward

[makes a motion with his hands]

Beaver's Son: unlike.

Kristofferson: Are you a bully? Y'all're starting to sound like a bully.

Beaver's Son: Lookout this.

[he takes a spoonful of yellow powder and drops it into the bubbling liquid over a Bunsen burner; information technology explodes and covers both of them in the yellow substance]

Kristofferson: That's... you just destroyed the whole experiment. We'd improve extinguish this magnesium.

[they raise their safety goggles]

Kristofferson: Stand back.

[Kris sprays the fire with an extinguisher]

Agnes: [watching from a few feet away] Wow.

Kristofferson: [whistles] Whew!

Agnes: [to Kris] Hmm. I like your ears.

[gestures to her ain]

Kristofferson: Yard... Mine?

Agnes: Mmhmm.

Kristofferson: Thank you! I like your... spots.

Agnes: Really? I used to encompass them up, merely, you know...

Ash: Ugh.

[scoffs]

Agnes: Hmm?

Ash: Y'all're supposed to be *my* lab partner.

Agnes: I am!

Ash: No you're non. You're disloyal.

Beaver's Son: We don't like y'all and we detest your dad. Now grab some of that mud, chew it in your mouth, and consume it.

Ash: I'1000 not gonna eat mud!

Beaver's Son: Cuss yep you are.

[he picks upwards a large glob of mud and shoves it in Ash'due south confront. Ash makes a gagging audio merely does not react further]

Kristofferson: [takes off his shoes] Don't do that.

Beaver'south Son: Why'd you lot take your shoes off?

Kristofferson: Then I don't break your nose when I kicking information technology.

[he proceeds to take Beaver's son out with some precision karate moves, ending with a throwdown in the mud. Beaver's son walks away quietly sobbing]

Ash: I can fight my own fights.

Kristofferson: [turns to Ash] No you tin can't...

Mr. Play tricks: [Mr. Fox on a motorcycle speaking to a wolf off on a distant ridge] Where did you come from?

Mr. Fox: What are you doing here?

Mr. Pull a fast one on: I don't think he speaks English or Latin

Mr. Fox: Pensez-vous que l'hiver sera rude?

Mr. Play a joke on: [as an aside to Ash, Kris, and Kylie in the motorcycle] I'yard asking if he thinks we're in for a hard winter.

Mr. Fox: I have a phobia of wolves.

Mr. Fox: What a beautiful beast.

Mr. Fox: [as an aside to Ash, Kris, and Kyle in the motorcycle] Wish him luck boys.

Mrs. Flim-flam: [sees her husband, Kris and Kylie sneaking through the kitchen] Another book party?

Mr. Trick: [surprised] Oh! I didn't run across you sitting in the nighttime over in that location.

[grins sheepishly]

Mr. Fox: Yeah! No actually, in that location's a fire. I just got the call; they said maybe information technology's arson. I've got to interview the marshal and run across if information technology'southward...

Mrs. Play a trick on: [turns on the light] Kylie, is he telling the truth?

Kylie: I... I don't desire to be put into the heart of this!

Mr. Fox: Thanks, Kylie.

Mrs. Fox: Why is he wearing that bandit hat?

[points at Kris, wearing a bandit hat]

Mr. Play tricks: His ears were cold. He's not with us.

[to Kris]

Mr. Fox: Become dorsum to bed.

[Kris leaves and closes the door]

Mrs. Play a joke on: If what I remember is happening, IS happening... it amend not be.

[Mr. Fox prepares for the final showdown with the farmers]

Mr. Fox: Your tractors uprooted my tree. Your posse hunted my family unit. Your gunmen kidnapped my nephew. Your rat insulted my wife - and you shot off my tail. I'g not leaving hither without that tie.

Franklin Bean: Kill him!

[the Play a trick on family ducks under a hail of gunfire. Intermission while the farmers all reload]

Mr. Fox: Actually, we should just become. Where'd I park?

[from trailer]

Mr. Pull a fast one on: Love, I am 7 non-fox years old. My father died at seven and a half. I don't desire to live in a hole anymore, and I'g going to do something well-nigh it.

[tears into his toast in an animalistic manner]

Ash: There's a lot of attitudes going on around here... don't allow me get 1.

Mr. Play tricks: The whole time I was putting paw over paw with your female parent digging abreast me, and I idea to myself: I wonder who this little boy...

Ash: Or girl!

Mr. Fox: Correct, 'cause at the time nosotros didn't know. I wonder who this little boy or girl is gonna be? Ash, I'm and so glad he was you.

Mr. Fox: In a way, I'g almost glad that flood interrupted us because I don't like the toast I was giving. I'm gonna get-go over.

Mr. Trick: When I await down this table, with the exquisite feast fix before us, I run across: two terrific lawyers, a skilled pediatrician, a wonderful chef, a savvy real estate agent, an fantabulous tailor, a crack auditor, a gifted musician, pretty good minnow fisherman, and peradventure the all-time landscape painter working on the scene today. Perchance a few of yous might even read my column from fourth dimension to time, Who knows? I tend to doubt it.

Mr. Play a joke on: When I look down this table, with the exquisite feast gear up before us, I see: 2 terrific lawyers, a skilled pediatrician, a wonderful chef, a savvy existent estate agent, an excellent tailor, a crack accountant, a gifted musician, pretty good minnow fisherman, and possibly the best mural painter working on the scene today. Maybe a few of you might even read my column from time to fourth dimension, Who knows? I tend to doubt information technology.

[intermission]

Mr. Play a joke on: I also meet a room full of wild fauna. Wildlife, with true natures and pure talents. Wildlife 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.

Mr. Play tricks: Anyway, I call up information technology may very well be all the cute differences among us that might simply give the states 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... whatsoever it is. I don't know. It'southward only a thought. Give thanks you for listening. Cheers, anybody.

[mimics draining an imaginary glass and smashing it to the floor]

Kylie: Allow'southward consume!

[everyone stares at Kylie]

Kylie: What? I was just playin' along with the chip he was doing...

Mr. Fox: A Titanium Card?

[whistles]

Mr. Fox: How did you qualify for this?

Kylie: I pay my bills on time. I've always had practiced credits

Rat: The boy is being held in an apple crate on peak of a gun chiffonier in the cranium of Bean Annex.

Mr. Fob: Would you have told me if I hadn't killed you beginning?

Rat: Never.

Mr. Trick: I dear you, Felicity.

Mrs. Trick: I love you too. Simply I shouldn't have married y'all.

Kylie: Apple juice... apple juice flood...

Kristofferson: Uh, exercise y'all heed if I slide my bed curl slightly out from nether the train ready? Information technology's hard to slumber in that corkscrew position.

Ash: [in the top bunk] There'south a lot of attitudes going on effectually here. Don't let me become one.

Kristofferson: No, it's only just my spinal string getting...

Ash: Sleep wherever you desire, homo. Hither, accept my bed! I'll only uh... I'll crawl nether the bookcase! Who cares if I get splinters in my ears?

Kristofferson: Never listen.

Ash: Oh, y'all gonna frown about it? 'Cuz I've had it upwardly to Hither

[gestures with his paw]

Ash: with the "sad houseguest" routine.

[Ash turns off the light and continues to read his White Cape comic in bed]

Kristofferson: Skilful night.

[he lies down nether the train set and begins to quietly sob; Ash comes downward, turns on the train, Kris gets up and they picket information technology]

Mr. Play a trick on: Ash, are you mad at me? I sympathize if you are and I'one thousand sorry; I wouldn't have ever involved your cousin if I had realized y'all would feel this fashion. Information technology was only e'er just because he's kind of a natural... I mean... I mean look at him dig!

[View changes to Kristofferson, Kylie and Mrs. Play a trick on earthworks, with Kristofferson leading with athletic determination, so switches back]

Mr. Fob: Anyway, I'thou sorry if you feel any...

Ash: [as he shoves clay in his ears] You know what? I'm only gonna put dirt in my ears. Ow... That's improve. I can't hear you now, just proceed talking.

Ash: [points to a sign Agnes carries] What's that stand for?

Agnes: Huh? It'southward for, uh, information technology's for pep... pep.

Ash: It'southward a Yard.

Coach Skip: [runs into frame, grabs a bottle from the cooler; to players] Come on, now! Look alive!

[to score-keeper]

Coach Skip: 'Atta male child.

[runs out of frame]

Agnes: [to Ash, about Kristofferson] We're going steady.

[Ash exclaims angrily]

Petey: [singing around a campfire with his banjo] 'Bout a handsome little fox allow me sing y'all folks a yarn. / Hey, diddle-dee daddle-da doddle-practice putter-dum! / 'Twas a splendid little feller full of wit 'northward' grace 'n' amuse. / Say, zippy-zee zappa-za yappy-yo doodle-dum! / Well, similar whatsoever little critter needin' vittels for his littl'uns, / Well, he stole, and he cheated, and he lied just to survive. / With a doodle-dum diddle-die doddle-diddle doodle-dum!

Other singers: Putter-dum diddle-die doddle-diddle doodle-dum!

Petey: Zippy-zo zippy-zay zippy-zappy zoopy-zee!

Other singers: Zippy-zo zippy-zay zippy-zappy zoopy-zee!

Petey: Doo-dah doo-twenty-four hour period day...

Petey: Let me have a fiddling tick now to color in the scene: / 'Cross the valley lived 3 yokels name of Boggis, Bunce, and Edible bean. / Now these iii crazy jackies had our hero on the run. / Shot the tail off the cuss with a fox-shootin' gun. / Merely that stylish little fox was as clever as a whip / Dug as quick as a gopher that was hyper-ack-a-tive.

Other singers: Yeah!

Petey: Now those three farmers sit 'twhere at that place's a hole 'twas once a hill. / Singin' diddle-dee daddle-da doddle-do putter-dum! / And as far equally I can reckon they're a-settin' upward there all the same. Singin' zippy-zee zappa-za yappy-yo...

Franklin Bean: [standing backside him] What are you singing, Petey?

Petey: Just... just making it upward as I went- as I went forth, really.

Franklin Bean: That's merely weak songwriting. You wrote a bad vocal, Petey!

[from trailer]

Mrs. Fox: You lot know, yous really are... fantastic.

Mr. Fox: I try.

Rat: Look at you, girl! You're still as fine looking as a creme brulee!

Mrs. Flim-flam: Excuse me? Am I existence flirted with past a psychotic rat?

Rat: Y'all are trespassin' now. *Illegally*.

Mr. Fox: [subsequently animals have dug through the wall] You scared the cuss out of us!

Badger: A lot of skillful animals...

[starts screaming]

Badger: ... are probably going to die, because of you! Half the woods take been obliterated, nobody can get out, and correct now, my wife is at the lesser of a flint mine with no food, no water, and 27 starving animal brats!

Kylie: Hey, I didn't go a job yet, or a Latin proper name. What's my strength?

Mr. Trick: Heed, you lot're Kylie. You're an unbelievably squeamish guy. Your job is really, just to... be available, I think. I don't know your Latin proper name. I doubt they even had opossums in Aboriginal Rome.

Ash: [Mr. Fox has just lost his tail in the shooting] It'll grow back, won't information technology?

Kylie: Tails don't grow back.

Ash: Tails don't grow back?

Kylie: Uh-uh. 'Cept for lizards.

Mr. Play a trick on: Tails don't grow back. I'm gonna be tail-less for the rest of my life.

Ash: Well, anyhow, it's not half as bad every bit double pneumonia, correct? I mean his dad'due south got one foot in the grave and three anxiety on a banana peel. That's a lot worse than simply a...

Kristofferson: [ricochets an acorn around the room, which lands in the teacup he is property] Excuse me, anybody. I'm gonna go meditate for half an 60 minutes.

[exits quickly]

Mrs. Fox: [to Ash] Y'all have got twenty-nine minutes to come up with a proper apology.

Ash: Me? ME have an apology? He gets a bandit hat? He just got here, and he gets a bandit chapeau? Where'southward MY bandit hat? Why didn't I get shot at? It's because, you... you lot... you think I'm no good at anything! Well, maybe y'all're right, cheers.

[stomps abroad angrily and slams door upon exit]

Kylie: [to Mr. Fox] Told ya not to bring him.

Mr. Fob: That was pure wild animal craziness.

Mr. Fox: I spotted a couple of cleaved infiltrator bars underneath the back door to Edible bean's secret cider cellar.

Kylie: We're breaking into Bean'south *house*?

Mr. Fox: Cellar.

Kylie: Where he *lives*?

Mr. Trick: Where he keeps the cider.

Ash: [appears behind them] *Below* where he lives.

Mr. Fox: [takes] Where'd you come from? Why don't you go back to the tree and do your homework?

Ash: I want to help you lot steal some cider.

Mr. Trick: *We're* going to a *book* political party, and keep your mouth shut about whatever cider, because no i ever said that! Now get out of hither!

Ash: Only, ah...

Mr. Trick: But nothing! You lot're gonna get me in a lot of problem! Besides, you lot're too little and uncoordinated.

[Ash frowns, twitches, and spits]

Mr. Fox: One, two, three!

[Mr. Fob points in the direction of the tree. Ash stomps off, growling]

Mrs. Fox: If we're nevertheless live in the forenoon I want yous to find some other line of work.

Mr. Fox: Okay.

Championship Card: Two years subsequently - 12 fox-years.

Badger: [opens letter of the alphabet from Boggis,Bunce and Edible bean] Why did they write this in letters cut out of magazines?

Kylie: To protect their identities. Oh, right, but then why did they sign their names? Plus, we already know who they are, because they're trying to kill u.s.a..

Mr. Pull a fast one on: [to his married woman] Badger'southward right. These farmers aren't gonna quit until they catch me. I shouldn't have lied to your face. I shouldn't have fallen off the railroad vehicle and started stealing chickens on the sly. I shouldn't have driven these farmers and then far and cussed with their heads. I enjoyed it, but I shouldn't have washed it. Only at present in that location's only one way out of this. Possibly if I hand myself over and let them impale 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 alive.

Mrs. Fox: [in tears] Oh, why did you take to get u.s. into this, Foxy?

Mr. Fox: I don't know, but I take a possible theory. I think I have this thing where I demand everybody to think I'm the greatest, the quote-unquote Fantastic Mr. Play tricks. And if people aren't knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself. Foxes traditionally like to courtroom danger, hunt casualty, and outsmart predators, and that's what I'grand good at. I remember at the end of the day, I'm just...

Mrs. Fox: I know, nosotros're wildlife.

Mr. Play tricks: Hmm. I approximate nosotros always were. I promise you, if I had all this to do over once again, I'd have never let you down. Information technology was e'er more fun when we did it together, anyway.

Mr. Play a trick on: My suicide mission's been cancelled. Nosotros're replacing it with a get-for-broke rescue mission.

Ash: Tin can I enquire you a question?

Kristofferson: 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 forty-five minutes? It'due south - it'southward weird.

Kristofferson: My father and I first started practicing meditation together when I was...

Ash: Yeah? Well, that's not bad. But I worry more well-nigh what that does for your reputation than whether or non you have beagle ticks or not.

Kristofferson: I don't. Nor pelt lice.

[get-go lines]

Mr. Fox: What'd the md say?

Mrs. Play tricks: Zero. Supposedly information technology's simply a 24-60 minutes bug. He gave me some pills.

Mr. Flim-flam: I told you, you lot probably just ate some bad gristle.

Mr. Fox: Wake up, everybody, they're earthworks us out!

Mrs. Fox: They'll kill the children!

Mr. Fox: Over my dead torso they will!

Mrs. Fox: That's what I'm maxim, you'd be dead too in that scenario!

Mr. Play tricks: Well, I'm arguing against that!

Mrs. Trick: What are you talking most?

Mr. Play a joke on: WHY ARE Yous YELLING AT ME?

Kylie: Terminate, Cease, End! You say one thing, she says some other, and it all changes back again!

Mr. Fox: I don't want to live in a pigsty anymore. It makes me feel poor.

Mrs. Fob: Nosotros ARE poor... but we're happy.

Mr. Fox: Comme ci, comme ca. Anyway, the views are amend in a higher place footing.

Mr. Fox: Alright, permit'due south start planning. Who knows autograph?

[Linda raises her hand]

Mr. Fox: Great! Linda! Lutra Lutra - you got some dry newspaper?

[she holds up some paper]

Mr. Pull a fast one on: Hither we become. Mole! Talpa Europea! What d'you got?

Mole: I tin encounter in the dark.

Mr. Fox: That'south incredible! We can use that! Linda?

Linda Otter: Got it.

Mr. Trick: Rabbit! Oryctolagus Cuniculus!

Rabbit: I'm fast.

Mr. Trick: You bet you are. Linda?

Linda Otter: Got it.

Mr. Pull a fast one on: Beaver! Brush Fiber!

Beaver: I can chew through woods.

Mr. Fox: Amazing! Linda!

Linda Otter: Got it.

Mr. Fox: Badger! Meles Meles!

Annoy: Demolitions expert.

Mr. Fox: What? Since when?

Annoy: Explosions! Flames! Called-for things!

Mr. Fox: Demolitions adept! OK! Linda?

Linda Otter: Got it.

Mr. Fox: [grabs Weasel] WEASEL! MUSTELA NIVALIS!

Weasel: Stop yelling!

Mr. Fox: Ha! Ha-ha! Whoo! Okay. Ash, you and Agnes squad up with these little kids and grade some KP unit to continue this sewer clean. It'south good for morale.

Ash: Washed.

[turns to Agnes]

Ash: What's KP?

Agnes: I think it means janitors.

[Ash spits]

Field Mouse: Hey-hey! I wanna go with you! I wanna fight!

Mr. Trick: Adept, fabulous! Microtus pennsylvanicus!

[the field mouse laughs]

Mr. Fox: Here, put this brigand hat on.

Mr. Fob: One of those slovenly farmers is probably wearing my tail for a necktie.

Badger: Mr. Flim-flam having resolved a new plan, Annoy says "Well, I estimate we should, ah, probably split into a certain number of groups, and start doing something. Correct?

Rat: [Drinking from Bean's Cider] ... Similar melted gilt.

Mr. Fox: [giving a toast] Now I've already had too much to drink, and I'yard feeling sentimental, merely I'thousand going to say something anyhow, which nobody wants to admit, merely I think is probably truthful: we beat out 'em. We beat those farmers, and now we're triumphantly eating their roasted chicken, their sizzling duck, their delicious turkey, their foie gras de... Where did the boys go?

Rabbit: There's only ane way out of this sewer. Simply the manhole embrace's closed... and there'south a station wagon parked on it. Which means nosotros're permanently stuck down here.

Annoy: You still retrieve we beat them, Foxy?

Annoy: Don't buy this tree, Foxy. You're borrowing at 9 and a half with no fixed rate, plus moving into the most dangerous neighborhood in the state for someone of your type of species.

Mr. Fox: Y'all're exaggerating, Badger.

Badger: [chuckles] I'm sugar-coating it, man. This is Boggis, Bunce, and Bean, three of the meanest, nastiest, ugliest farmers in the history of this valley.

Mr. Fox: Really? Tell me well-nigh them.

Annoy: All right. Walt Boggis is a chicken farmer, probably the almost successful in the world. He weighs the aforementioned as a young rhino. He eats three chickens every 24-hour interval for breakfast, lunch, supper, and dessert. That'southward twelve in total per diem. Nate Bunce is a duck and goose farmer. He'southward approximately the size of a pot-bellied dwarf, and his chin would be underwater in the shallow end of whatsoever swimming pool on the planet. His nutrient is abode-made 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 stiff alcoholic cider, which he makes from his apples. He'south as skinny as a pencil, equally smart as a whip, and possibly the scariest homo currently living. The local human children sing a kind of... eerie little rhyme about them. Here, listen to this.

[turns on the radio]

Children'due south Song: [singing] Boggis, Bunce, and Edible bean / I fat, 1 brusk, 1 lean / Those horrible crooks, so different in looks / were nonetheless equally mean.

[from trailer]

Mr. Fox: [looking at an electric fence] Huh. This could be difficult.

Squirrel: It'southward fatal for humans, only we got plenty fur to proceed the voltage from getting to u.s.a.. Permit's go!

Mr. Trick: Why are yous wearing that fake brigand hat?

Kristofferson: [accompanying Pull a fast one on and Kylie on a raid] I must say, I'm pleased to be invited but I'grand not sure I should exist doing this, Uncle Foxy.

Mr. Fox: Why not?

Kristofferson: Because I don't similar to exist dishonest with people.

Mr. Fox: Well, just keep your mouth shut and it won't be a problem.

[after the shooting]

Franklin Edible bean: [into radio] Petey? Sorry to wake you lot. Tin I trouble you to dash out hither right away with, shall we say, three shovels, two pickaxes, five hundred rounds of ammunition, and... a bottle of apple tree cider?

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