Honey, I'm seven non-fox years old. My father died at seven and a half. I don't want to live in a hole anymore. I'm going to do something about it.
My suicide mission has been cancelled. We're replacing it with a go-for-broke rescue mission.
Are you cussing with me?
What the cuss, where'd this giant fence come from?! We had a master plan!
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.
[to Badger]YOU SCARED THE CUSS OUT OF US!
I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest, the quote unquote 'Fantastic Mr. Fox', and if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself.
Redemption? Sure. But in the end, he's just another dead rat in a garbage pail behind a Chinese restaurant.
[To Frank Bean, as he prepares for the final battle] 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!
[In the supermarket, offering a juice-box toast] 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.
Ah, yes. He's very clever, isn't he? Might be a bit difficult, I suppose. [shoots every light around in one fluid movement] But I already figured out where this fox lives. So tomorrow night, we'll camp in the bushes, wait for him to come out of the hole in the tree, and shoot the cuss to smithereens. How does that grab you, fellas?
That's just weak songwriting! You wrote a BAD song, Petey!
Badger: Don't buy this tree, Foxy. You're borrowing at nine-and-a-half with no fixed rate, plus moving into the most dangerous area in the world for someone of your type of species.
Mr. Fox: You're exaggerating, Badger.
Badger: [scoffs] 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 about them.
Badger: [sighs] 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 twelve in total per diem. Nate Bunce is a duck and goose farmer. He's approximately the size of a pot-bellied dwarf, and his chin would be underwater in the shallow end of any swimming pool on the planet. His food is homemade donuts with mashed 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 him. Here, listen to this. [turns on the radio]
Children: [singing]♪ Boggis, Bunce, and Bean. One fat, one short, one lean. Those horrible crooks so different in looks, were nonetheless equally mean. ♪
Badger: [turns off the radio] In summation, I think you just gotta not do it, man. That's all.
Mr. Fox: I understand what you're saying, and your comments are valuable, but I'm gonna ignore your advice.
Badger: The cuss you are.
Mr. Fox: The cuss am I? Are you cussing with me?
Badger: No, you cussing with me?
Mr. Fox: Don't cuss, and point at me!
Badger: If you're gonna cuss with somebody, you're not gonna cuss with me, you little cuss!
Mr. Fox: You're not gonna cuss with me!
[Both start snarling at each other. Linda pushes the typewriter and then settle down]
Mr. Fox: Just buy the tree.
Mr. Fox: [sighs] Who am I, Kylie?
Kylie: Who how? What now?
Mr. Fox: Why a fox? Why not 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, you'll forgive the expression, a chicken in its teeth?
Kylie: I don't know what you're talking about, but it sounds illegal.
Coach Skip: [explaining the rules of whack-bat] Basically, there's three grabbers, three taggers, five twig runners, and a player at whack-bat. Center tagger lights a pine cone and 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 pine cone burns out and the umpire calls hotbox. Finally, you count up however many score-downs it adds up to and divide that by nine.
Kristofferson: Got it.
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: [appears behind them]Below where he lives.
Mr. Fox: Where'd you come from? You go back to the tree and do your homework.
Ash: I wanna help you steal some cider.
Mr. Fox: We're going to a book party, and you keep your mouth shut about any cider because no one ever said that. Now get out of here!
Ash: But-- Uh..
Mr. Fox: But nothing! You're gonna get me in a lot of trouble! Besides, you're too little and uncoordinated.
[Ash scowls, twitches his ear and spits]
Mr. Fox: [points at the tree] One, two, three!
[Ash growls and storms back to the tree grumbling in anger]
Mr. Fox: Where the cuss does that kid get off? Can you believe that? How did he get tipped off?
Bean: Ah, so good of you to come! I'm happy to see you! You both looking splendid! How ya been, Walter? In good health, I trust.
Boggis: Uh, uh, uh...
Bean: Nathan, all is well?
Bean: Wonderful! Any fox problems?
Boggis: 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: [drinks a glass of cider] Perhaps we ought to kill him.
Boggis: Well, that seems rather obvious.
Bunce: He's too sneaky!
Bean: Ah, yes. He's very clever, isn't he? Might be a bit difficult, I suppose. [shoots every light around in one fluid movement] But I already figured out where this fox lives. So tomorrow night, we'll camp in the bushes, wait for him to come out of the hole in the tree, and shoot the cuss to smithereens. How does that grab you, fellas?
Boggis: Yeah, don't see why not.
[Mr. Fox and Kylie are sneaking through the Fox family's kitchen. Meanwhile, Felicity sees them from a doorway]
Felicity: Another book party?
Mr. Fox: [surprised] Oh! I didn't see you sitting in the dark over there. [grins sheepishly] 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 if it's...
Felicity: [turns on the light] Kylie, is he telling the truth?
Kylie: [turns to Mr. Fox] I... I don't want to be put into the middle of this.
Mr. Fox: Thanks, Kylie.
Felicity: [notices something off to her right, points to Kristofferson wearing his bandit hat] Why is he wearing that bandit hat?
[Kristofferson, who is halfway out the door leading to the kitchen from the stairwell leading upstairs and pulls his bandit hat up to obscure his face]
Mr. Fox: His ears were cold. He's not with us. [to Kristofferson] Go back to bed.
[Kristofferson leaves and closes the door]
Felicity: If what I think is happening is happening - it better not be.
Ash: [after Mr. Fox has just lost his tail in the shooting] It'll-- It'll grow back, won't it?
Kylie: Tails don't grow back.
Ash: Tails don't grow back?
Kylie: Uh-uh. Except for lizards.
Mr. Fox: Tails don't grow back. I'm gonna be tail-less 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. That's a lot worse than just...
Kristofferson: [ricochets an acorn around the room, which lands in the teacup he is holding. The others glare in amazement] Excuse me, everyone. I'm gonna go meditate for half an hour.
[exits quickly and slams the door]
Felicity: [to Ash, sternly] You have got twenty-nine minutes to come up with a proper apology.
Ash: [snaps, gestures wildly] Me? Me have an apology? He gets a bandit hat? He just got here, and he gets 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. [stomps away angrily and closes door upon exit]
Kylie: [sighs; to Mr. Fox] Told ya not to bring him.
Mr. Fox: Wake up, everybody, they're digging us out!
Felicity: They'll kill the children!
Mr. Fox: Over my dead body, they will!
Felicity: That's what I'm saying, you'd be dead too in that scenario!
Mr. Fox: Well, I'm arguing against thatǃ
[They begin arguing over each other]
Felicity: What are you talking about?
Mr. Fox: WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?ǃ
Kylie: STOP, STOP, STOPǃ! You say one thing, she says another, and it all changes back againǃ
Felicity: I'm going to lose my temper now.
Mr. Fox: When?
Felicity: Right now.
Mr. Fox: Well, when-- [Felicity slashes at his face with her claws] OW!
Felicity: Twelve fox years ago, you made a promise to me, while we we're caged inside that fox trap. That if we survived, you would never steal another chicken, turkey, goose, duck, or a squab whatever they are, and I believed you. [starts to cry] Why? Why did you lie to me?!?
Mr. Fox: Because I'm a wild animal.
Felicity: You are also a husband, and a father!
Mr. Fox: I'm trying to tell you the truth about myself.
Felicity: I don't care about the truth about yourself. This story is too... predictable.
Mr. Fox: Predictable? Really? What happens in the end?
Felicity: In the end, we all die! Unless you change.
Mr. Fox: YOU SCARED THE CUSS OUT OF US!
Badger: [growls] A lot of good animals are [yells]PROBABLY GONNA DIE, BECAUSE OF YOU![everyone looked shocked] 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 the flint-mine... with no food, no water, and TWENTY SEVEN STARVING ANIMALS 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's 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 gonna eat mud!
Beaver's Son: Cuss yeah, you are. [picks up a large glob of mud and shoves it in Ash's face. Ash makes a gagging sound but does not react further]
Kristofferson: [takes off his shoes] Don't do that.
Beaver's Son: Why'd you take your shoes off?
Kristofferson: [pushes Ash away] So I don't break your nose when I kick it. [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 can't.
Ash: You should probably put your bandit hat on now. Personally, I-I don't have one, but I modified this tube sock.
Kristofferson: We look good.
Ash: Yeah, we do.
[after the animals have been flushed into the sewers by Bean's cider, Mr. Fox goes into a tunnel to be alone, Felicity follows]
Mr. Fox: Badger's right. These farmers aren't gonna quit until the 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 driven these farmers so far and cussed with their heads. I enjoyed it, but I shouldn't have done it. But now there's only one way out of this. Maybe if I hand myself over and let them kill me, stuff me, and hang me over their mantelpiece.
Felicity: You'll do no such thing.
Mr. Fox: Darling, maybe they'll let everyone else live.
Felicity: [starts to cry] Oh, why did 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 people aren't knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself. Foxes traditionally like to court danger, hunt prey, and outsmart predators, and that's what I'm good at. I think at the end of the day, I'm just...
Felicity: I know, we're wild animals.
Mr. Fox: Hmm. 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. [both foxes kiss and hug] I love you, Felicity.
Felicity: I love you, too. But I shouldn't have married you.
Mr. Fox: [in a cellar with many of the other animal characters] Alright, let's start planning. Who knows shorthand? [Linda raises her hand]
Mr. Fox: Great! Linda! Lutra lutra - you got some dry paper? [she holds up paper]