Benjamin Whitrow: Fowler

Chicken Run

Fowler

Fowler: Poppycock. Pushy Americans. Always showing up late for every war. Overpaid, oversexed and over here!

Ginger: But you're supposed to be up there. You're the pilot.
Fowler: Oh, don't be ridiculous. I can't fly this contraption.
Ginger: Back in your day -- the Royal Air Force...
Fowler: 6-4-4 Squadron, poultry division. We were the mascots.
Ginger: You mean you never actually flew the plane?
Fowler: Good heavens, no. I'm a chicken. The Royal Air Force doesn't let chickens behind the controls of a complex aircraft.

[Fowler is forced to share his bunk with Rocky]
Fowler: Absolutely outrageous! Asking a senior officer to share his quarters. And with a noncommissioned Yank, no less. Why, back in my day, I'd never...
Rocky: Hey! You weren't exactly *my* first choice, either. And scoot over. Your wing's on my side of the bunk.
Fowler: *Your* side of the bunk? The *whole bunk* is my side of the bunk!
Rocky: [snapping back] Just... What's that smell? Is that your breath?
Fowler: It's absolutely outrageous.

Rocky: You see, flying takes three things. Hard work, perseverance and-- Hard work.
Fowler: You said hard work twice!
Rocky: That's because it takes twice as much work as perseverance.

Fowler: [of Rocky] I don't like the look of this one. His eyes are too close together.
Ginger: Fowler, please.
Fowler: And he's a Yank.

Fowler: Dissension in the ranks. Precisely what Jerry would have wanted. The old divide and conquer A proper squadron work together, just like we did in my RAF days. Jocko at the stick, Flappy at the map... and old Whizzbang at the tail-end Charlie. WingCo would give the call, hop in the old crate, chocks away! Wizard show it was. That's how you get medals.
Bunty: Will you shut up about your stupid blooming medals!
[slaps the medal from Fowler's hand, sending it into the mud]
Fowler: How dare you!
[conks Bunty on the head and she groans]
Fowler: Madam, forgive me. A-As an officer, I offer my most--
[Bunty punches him in the face]

Rocky: What's happening? What's going on?
Babs: They took Ginger, Mr. Rhodes! They're taking her to the chop!
Fowler: Well, what are you waiting for, laddie? Fly over there. Save her!
Rocky: Of course - No, No! That's just what they'd expect. But I say, we give them the old element of surprise.
Fowler: [chuckling] And catch Jerry with his trousers down. I like the sound of that; what's the plan?
Rocky: The plan... um, the plan. The plan! Uh - Babs, give me that thing. Bunty, give me a boost.

[Fowler is hesitant about piloting the Crate]
Ginger: Fowler, you *have* to fly it. You're always talking about "back in your day"; well, *today* is your day.
[extends to Fowler his medal]
Bunty: You can do it, you old sausage.
Fowler: [stares at the medal for a moment, takes it, and salutes Ginger] Wing Commander T.I. Fowler, reporting for duty.

Fowler: Keep pedaling! We're not there yet! You can't see paradise if you don't pedal!

Fowler: [walks into the chickens dancing] Now, see here! I don't recall authorizing a hop.
Bunty: Oh, shut up and dance!
[pulls him into the group]