Programme 1 Script

Part 2

 

Sparrow lands in the oak tree then looks down at the group of hens.
	SPARROW: I’ve looked everywhere, no one else got out.
Idris stumbles about in the corn frantically.	IDRIS: Ooh help, why me? What a way to go…and so young…Help, help!
She falls into the clearing at the feet of the hens.
	IDRIS: Owwoo! Pah pah… help me…Oh it’s you.
Idris squints up to see Attila.	IDRIS: Why didn’t you wait for me?
	ATTILA: We said meet by the tree.
The cornfield and the lone tree.
	IDRIS: What tree?
Idris frowning looking into the sun.	IDRIS: Aah! There’s no ceiling…What’s that bright yellow thing up there?
	ATTILA: It’s the sun.
	IDRIS: Aaagh! It’s horrible!
In a comic but endearing way the hens strut under the sun.	NIVE: No it’s not…C’est magnific!
Morag fluffs up her feathers.	MORAG: Aye, you can feel it warming through to your down feathers.
The sparrow hops to a lower branch.	SPARROW: Oyi listen! Chickens! Oyi! Oyi… Listen!
	SPARROW: What are you going to do now? You can’t stay here.
Heni looking to the corn.	HENI: Why ever not? There’s plenty of food.
The corn sways in the breeze.
	SPARROW: You’d be sick in no time at all, all, if you just ate that stuff.
	HENI: Great, nice one Attila – you’ve managed to escape us into a sea of corn that you can’t actually eat.
	SPARROW: No. Nononononono, no, you need more than that. It’s not that…It’s not safe…You’re chickens… Chickens don’t belong here, here…You need to roam free and scratch about for a living.
Idris butts in.	IDRIS: This is ridiculous, I’ve never heard so much twaddle…I…. We’re going home.
Attila looks across the sea of corn to the farm.	ATTILA: Er…Emmmm? Why?
	HENI: Yeah…Why?
	IDRIS: Because…You heard the sparrow… It’s not safe. It’s dangerous!
The hens do not budge they look to Attila.	ATTILA: Err…
Idris walks off into the corn.	IDRIS: We’re going back. Now come, on follow me!
Hens follow.
	SPARROW: No wait! Not that way! Oh Gawd. Attila, they’re going the wrong way!
Six dots following each other snake-like, lost in the corn.
Close up of Idris leading the hens.	IDRIS: This way!
We see them doubling back on themselves etc.
Close up of combine harvester starting at the end of the field.
	HENI: I’m so hungry my head’s going wibbley-wobbley.
	MORAG: My belly thinks my necks been rung.
	DOT: I’m hungry. MORAG: I’m thirsty. HENI: I’m Friday…I think.
	DOT: How much further to go? IDRIS: We’re almost there…Stop slacking at the back.
Attila is at the back with Nive who is limping along.	NIVE: We’re not slacking at the back. IDRIS: Now come on Attila, keep up.
	ATTILA: I was just wondering if you knew where you were going.
	IDRIS: Of course I do.
	NIVE: Cough! Aren’t we going round in circles?
	IDRIS: What! I’ve a good mind to leave you all here to starve.
	ATTILA: Ssshhhhh! What’s that noise?
The hens all stop to listen.	IDRIS: What noise?
Idris walks towards the noise of the machine.	IDRIS: Ah good. Just what I’ve been expecting…They have come to pick us up. Now come on! And don’t dilly-dally.
The combine harvester looms over the chickens.	HENS: Aaah! Look!
	ATTILA: Run! This way! Follow me, and don’t look back!
Idris sees the combine harvester and follows Attila. The combine harvester roars past in a cloud of corn dust.	IDRIS: No! No! This way…Yelp!
Attila now leads the hens through the corn.
Attila stumbles out of the corn and into a drainage ditch followed by the rest of the hens.
The hens look through a razor wire fence and watch as the great red machine roars by spitting chaff and corn dust.
	HENI: That was close! DOT: I nearly lost my tail feathers.
Idris pops out from the remaining uncut corn and collapses dramatically.	ATTILA: Where’s Dot?
	IDRIS: Ah phew…I…I can’t take it any more…I simply can’t go on.
	HENI: Oh shut up Idris!
Idris is enjoying the attention.	ATTILA: Idris get up. We must go on.
	NIVE: Come on Idris, I’ll help.
	IDRIS: But…I…I…I’m exhausted…I could have died in there!
The hens take no notice of Idris; they look to the hedgerow.	ATTILA: Oh!
Idris notices the hedgerow.	IDRIS: Eeooh?
Hens look at the grassy embankment, with wild grasses and flowers buttery flies and bugs.	HENS: Wha…This…Is that a…Wow…Look…Wooo! NIVE: Look, there’s a little bug!
Attila climbs the bank. The rest of the hens follow.
A wild dog rose is entwined in the hedgerow.
	HENI: Smell that?
The hens do some sniffing.	HENS: Sniff-sniff…It smells, cor! Sniff-sniff…Fresh.
	DOT: We’ve made it…This is it. MORAG: So this is what the sparrow was talking about… a place to roam free…
Heni pecks at some wild grass.	HENI: Mmmm…Sort of…. Mmmmm!
Hens peck at grass to have a taste.	MORAG: This tastes lovely!
Heni has found a patch of ground to scratch in.	HENI: Hey! You got to try this! It’s brilliant!
Dot has a go at scratching.	DOT: Yeeeahhh. That’s good!
Dot then has a look at what she has scrapped up, and instantly pecks at a worm and swallows it.
Close up of Dot.	DOT: Eeeeeerrrrr!
The hens look on in horror.	HENS: Eeeeerrrr! HENI: You ate a….
Dot’s face is twisted as if she has just sucked a lemon.	DOT: I couldn’t help it…Eeeerrr!
Dot smacks her beak together and pauses.	DOT: Oh, eer I’ve eaten a…yuck! DOT: Hmmmm…Rather tasty!
Heni pulls up a worm.
	HENI: Mmmmm…bit rubbery mind, but that was lovely, that.
A puddle glints in the sun. Idris drinks from the puddle. She swills the water around in her mouth like a wine taster. And she spits it out.
	IDRIS: Heady bouquet, full of body, with a hint of blackcurrants and wild grasses, and a slight after taste of…mud and grit…Superb.
The hens taste the water.	NIVE: Mmm, wonderful! ATTILA: Oh tastes great!
	DOT: You’ve done it girl! You lead us here to paradise! HENI: Not half!
Point of view of Attila: The hens nodding in agreement.	HENS: Yeah! MORAG: Aye you have.
Hens on bank chasing butterflies, pulling worms, having fun.
	NIVE: Attila, what’s wrong?
	ATTILA: I’m not sure we’re there yet.
	DOT: What?! MORAG: Why?!
	IDRIS: You silly girl…Of course we are here…Just look at this place!
Attila climbs the slope to the top of the embankment.	ATTILA: It’s just that…It doesn’t feel right somehow.
	HENI: Feels right to me.
Heni eats another ear of wild grass.	HENI: Tastes right too.
Attila gets to the top of the embankment. Before her is a housing estate.	ATTILA: This isn’t the place! This isn’t the place where we can live; this isn’t the place at all!
The rest of the hens join Attila.
	HENI: They look like the sheds back at the farm.
Idris barges past.	IDRIS: Hens live in houses…Oh isn’t this perfect!
Cut to hens by chain link fence. Hens look at grey houses.	ATTILA: No. That’s where humans live. NIVE: I don’t want to go back to living in cages.
The building estate is almost complete.	ATTILA: Don’t worry Nive, we won’t.
Aerial shot – the housing estate is eating into the countryside.
The hens see a JCB parked up doing roadworks.	NIVE: I saw one of those machines from the roof of the shed. IDRIS: So did I. HENI: And me!
A black dustbin bag blows across the building site towards the hens. They think it is the black glove coming for them.
	NIVE: Look, it’s the black glove!
	IDRIS: Aagghh! The black glove, it has come for us!
	ATTILA: Run for the trees!
The hens run from the black bag. It gets caught on the fence and flaps angrily at them.	HENS: Ruuunnn! The black glove!
The hens run to a group of fine old Scots pine trees. On getting closer they hear singing…bad singing.	IDRIS: (PANT) Is it still following us? ATTILA: (PANT) No, I don’t think so.
Hens stop at trees.
	VOICES: (SINGING) We shall not be moved!
	HENI: Singing trees?
	ATTILA: Are there people in those trees!? HENI: Yeah…I think so. NIVE: They’re beautiful trees!
	DOT: Humans don’t live in trees.
The trees are magnificent and tall against the sun.
	MORAG: Aye… But I’ve a great urge to roost in one.
	DOT: Me too!?
The chickens jump into the lower branches of the pine tree.	ATTILA: Hmm, and me! We’ve done enough walking for one day.
	HENI: We’ve done enough walking for a week…Do you think us chickens could live in trees?
	ATTILA: No, I don’t think so.
	HENI: Nah, you’re right…That’s for the birds…
The hens are settling down for a nap in the lower branches of the tree. In the trees opposite the noise of humans can be heard.
Nive climbs wearily onto a branch but Idris pecks her out of the way.
	IDRIS: Get off! I’m here!
	ATTILA: There are enough places for us all Idris.
The hens look out to the other tree and watch the humans.	DOT: What are they doing up there?
One tree protester is chained to a tree and is hugging it.	NIVE: I don’t understand humans; some of them try to smash your brains in with a shovel, and others hug trees.
They listen to the chatter of the humans, and drift off to sleep.
We see the hens dozing on the branches like leopards. Idris falls off her branch and wakes in a fit. The hens are snoring – going up and down.
The copse in darkness. There is the harsh sound of a chainsaw.	DOT: Attila! Wake up!
A wide shot of the copse. Shafts of light from spotlights illuminate the trees, JCBs, police cars, and lots of men with yellow hardhats and torches.
The hens huddle together on the lower branches of the tree, occasionally illuminated by flashes of light.
They watch the mayhem.
Things are being thrown out of the trees.
	DOT: What’s going on?
	ATTILA: They’re throwing things at each other.
	MORAG: They’re fighting.
	HENI: Fighting what?
	MORAG: Each other!
	IDRIS: Well that doesn’t make sense.
	NIVE: (MOURNFULLY) Why? You pick on me.
	IDRIS: Well…Yes that’s because I’m…I…
The cherry pickers move away from the trees.
There is a buzz of chainsaws and the tree vibrates as the saw bites into its bark.
	ATTILA: They’re cutting down the trees!
	MORAG: Let’s get out of here!
	IDRIS: Climb, it’s the only way!
The hens start to climb the tree, hopping round it like it’s a spiral staircase.	ATTILA: No! We should make a run for it!
The chainsaw rips deeper into the trunk.
The hens get to the top of the tree.	MORAG: (PANTING) Now what?
The last cuts are being done by the chainsaw.	IDRIS: (PANTING) Now we’re safe.
The top of the tree bends under the weight of hens.	HENI: Safe! You call this safe? I’m hanging by the skin of my beak!
The great tree begins to twist and creek.	NIVE: The tree, it will fall down!
	DOT: Oh, and we’re at the top of it! Great!
The tree lurches.	ATTILA: Listen, we’re going to jump.
	MORAG: From here?
	ATTILA: No, as the tree falls towards the ground, we’ll jump for it.
	IDRIS: You’re mad – it’ll never work!
The tree starts to topple forwards.	ATTILA: Any other ideas?
The great pine goes crashing into the trees opposite, where it comes to rest at an angle of 45 degrees.	HENS: Noooaaooo! ATTILA: Hang oooonnn!
	HENS: Aaaaggghh!
	IDRIS: Well that turned out fine.
The hens lose their grip in the branches and are thrown off the tree.	HENS: Woooaaahhh!
They land in gorse bushes, then bounce down a grass verge and on to the A463 – a four-lane motorway.	HENS: Oooaafff! Arghhh! HENS: Ouch! Owo! Aeeeyoow!
The hens are standing in the middle of the road.	ATTILA: Ow…That was close…Everyone all right?
Idris lands badly, and hobbles dramatically.	IDRIS: Oh yes. Sure. Fine, fine…One more, just one more thing…
	HENI: Considering we don’t fly we have been in the air a lot lately.
The hens dust themselves off and hop up on to the crash barrier in the central reservation.	DOT: I thought we were all goners there for a minute. HENI: Where are we? ATTILA: Where’s Morag? IDRIS: What’s that?
Morag is still on the hard shoulder. She walks into the road – she is hypnotised by the lights of an approaching lorry.	ATTILA: Morag! Run! Quick up here! HENS: Morag!
The lorry rushes by, taking out Morag in an instant. All that is left of her is a few feathers that are sucked along in the wake of the passing traffic.	MORAG: Yeoh! HENS: Noooooo!
Terrified, the hens sit on the crash barrier being sucked this way and that by passing traffic.