Nick: Imagine a world before chickens - a chickenless, eggless world...
Fetcher: I am - and it's horrible.
Nick: [of the radio] Well, here she is. Ask and you shall receive.
Fetcher: That's Biblical.
Nick: That's real craftmanship, is what it is. Solid as a rock.
Fetcher: [Fbangs on it; a knob flies off and hits a chicken] It's supposed to do that.
Fetcher: It's raining hen.
Rocky: What's eating Grandpa?
Ginger: [whispering, right after one of the other chickens is killed] We've got to get out of here.
[after the reason for Rocky's flying ability is discovered]
Mac: A cannon. Aye, *that* would give ye thrust.
Rocky: [to Ginger after being put against the wall] You know, you're the first chick I ever met with the shell still on.
Fowler: Cock-a-doodle-doo! What, what.
Fowler: Good grief! The turnip's bought it!
Nick: Eggs from heaven.
Fetcher: No! From her bum.
Rocky: Listen. Shh. You hear that?
[silence]
Rocky: That's the open road calling my name, and I was born to answer that call. Bye.
[he leaves]
Babs: He must have very good hearing.
[Bunty is about to be shot out of a slingshot]
Fetcher: The tension's killing me.
Nick: It's gonna kill her.
Rocky: Ouch! What happened to my wing?
Ginger: You took a rather nasty fall.
Mac: [very fast, in strong Scottish accent] And sprained the anterior 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?
[Rocky is about to be found by the circus]
Ginger: [blackmailing him] Teach us to fly and we'll hide you.
Rocky: And if I don't?
[Ginger pulls breath to squawk]
Rocky: [stops her] Was your father by any chance a *vulture*?
Rocky: ...And the pig says to the horse, "Hey, fella. Why the long face?"
[walking in on a jazz party]
Fowler: Now see here! I, I don't recall authorising a hop!
Bunty: Oh, shut up and dance!
[finding the chickens building the Crate]
Mr. Tweedy: Me tools! Why, you thieving little buggers!
Mac: Right, we tried going under the fence, and that didn't work. So the plan now is, we go over it.
[Unveils the model catapult]
Mac: [Holds up turnip chicken] This is us, right? We go in here, like this, wind her up, and let her go!
[Catapult sends turnip flying into wall; chickens cluck frantically]
