Miranda Richardson credited as playing...
Mrs. Tweedy
- Mr. Tweedy: [being attacked by chickens] Mrs. Tweedy! The chickens are revolting!
- Mrs. Tweedy: [with her back turned] Finally, something we agree on.
- Mr. Tweedy: Ooh, that's champion, that is. What is it?
- Mrs. Tweedy: It's a pie machine, you idiot. Chickens go in, pies come out.
- Mr. Tweedy: Ooh! What kind of pies?
- Mrs. Tweedy: Apple.
- Mr. Tweedy: My favorite!
- Mrs. Tweedy: Chicken pies, you great lummox! Imagine it. In less than a fortnight, every grocers' in the county will be stocked with box upon box of Mrs. Tweedy's Homemade Chicken Pies.
- Mr. Tweedy: Just... "Mrs."?
- Mrs. Tweedy: Woman's touch. Makes the public feel more comfortable.
- Mr. Tweedy: Oh, 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: And that Ginger one, I reckon she's their leader.
- Mrs. Tweedy: [losing her patience and slamming her fist on the table] 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: [stammering] But... but...
- Mrs. Tweedy: It's all in your head, Mr. Tweedy. Say it!
- Mr. Tweedy: It's all in me head. It's all in me 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!
- Mr. Tweedy: What... what... what's all this, then?
- Mrs. Tweedy: This is our future, Mr. Tweedy. No more wasting time with petty egg collecting and minuscule profits.
- Mr. Tweedy: No more eggs? But we've always been egg farmers. Me father, and his father, and all their fathers, they was all...
- Mrs. Tweedy: Poor. Worthless. Nothings. But all that is about to change. This will take Tweedy's farm out of the Dark Ages and into full-scale automated production. Melisha Tweedy will be poor no longer.
- Mrs. Tweedy: [after Ginger escaped] Mr. Tweedy.
- Mr. Tweedy: Eh?
- Mrs. Tweedy: What is that chicken doing outside the fence?
- Mr. Tweedy: Oh!
- [chuckles]
- Mr. Tweedy: I don't know, love. I...
- Mrs. Tweedy: Just deal with it. Now!
- [slams the door shut]