第一頁:片段欣賞
第二頁:巧學口語
第三頁:小小翻譯家
第四頁:文化一瞥
影片對白:
Blu: Excuse me. Please, I am trying to sleep.
Jewel: I'm sorry, sleepy-head, I'm trying to escape.
Blu: Escape? Why? This cage is awesome.
Jewel: This... (Laughs) Oh, what was I thinking? I wouldn't expect a pet to understand.
Blu: Pet? Did you just call me a pet? For the record, I am not a pet. I am a companion. And you know what? Do whatever you want, 'cause tomorrow morning, Linda will come for me and this whole nightmare will be over.
Jewel: Incredible! You would rather be with a human than with your own kind.
Blu: Well, that human has given me love and affection for the past 15 years whereas my own kind tries to strangle me after 15 seconds.
Jewel: Yeah, well, because of them, I've lost everything. You can't trust them.
Blu: Of course...you can trust humans.
(Jewel grunts)
Blu: Jewel? Jewel? Hi, there.
Tulio: It was nice of you to join me for dinner. I often eat alone. Because, of course, my work.
Linda: I thought I was the bird nut until I met you.
Tulio: Yes, right. Do you have a favorite bird?
Linda: Well, obviously, I'm a blue macaw kind of gal.
Tulio: That makes sense. They are very handsome birds.
Linda: Actually, it's the brains I'm more attracted to. I'm not so impressed by fancy feathers.
Tulio: I know exactly what you mean. My favorite bird is the spotted owl. I've always been mesmerized by those big...round, intelligent eyes.
(Laughing loudly)
(Screams)
Waiter: Chicken hearts?
Linda: Chicken eyes! Oh, gosh. (Exclaims) Oh...
(Rooster crowing)
Tulio: Oh. Hello?
(Chatter on police radio)
(Linda sobbing)
Linda: Oh, Blu. We should have never left Moose Lake. This is all my fault.
Tulio: No, no, Linda, Linda, please. This is not your fault.
Linda: You're right. It's not my fault. It's your fault!
Tulio: What?
Linda: With your little bird talk. And that whole "save the species." Well, you know what? Squawk, squawkity, squawk, squawk! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to curse.
Tulio: I don't understand. Sylvio is the best guard in the business.
Policeman: So, let me get this straight. You were attacked by a little white bird?
Sylvio: Yes, with this rag. He held it to my mouth like this.
(Mumbling)
(Sniffing)
Linda: We're doomed.
Blu: Okay, okay. There's no place like home, there's no place like home. How I wish I was back in my own cage with my mirror and my swing, and my little bell. How I miss my little bell.
Jewel: Shh. Play dead.
Blu: What? I don't need to play dead, I'm about to have a heart attack.
Jewel: Just do it!
Blu: Fine.
(Dramatic groan)
(Twitching)
Jewel: Stop twitching.
Blu: Come on, it's the twitching that sells it.
(Knocking on door)
Armando: Come on in, kid.
Marcel: Well, what do you know? Good work, Fernando. You see, boys? What did I tell you about this one?
Tipa: That you were going to pay him half as much as you said?
Marcel: No, you idiot. That he reminds me of myself when I was that age. Smart, resourceful. Here you go, kid.
Fernando: Hey. This is only half of what you promised me.
Marcel: Ah, shut up, kid. What the...I thought I told you I needed these birds alive. Tell me, Fernando...does this look alive to you?
(Exclaiming)
Marcel: Get her!
Armando: Come over here!
Blu: Jewel!
Marcel: Come here!
(Panting)
Nigel: Hello...pretty bird. What's the matter? Cockatoo got your throat?
Marcel: Nigel! Alive.
Nigel: To be continued.
(Groaning)
Blu: That was your plan? To take off and leave me? Gee, thanks.
Jewel: Well, why didn't you follow me?
Blu: Uh...
Marcel: Nice work, Nigel.
Tipa: Yeah, nice work, Nigel.
Marcel: The last blue macaws on earth. These are worth a fortune. Hey, Fernando, hang these up in the other room.
(Birds calling)
Bird A: Hey, birdie! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out of here!
Bird B: Who's a pretty bird? I'm a pretty bird. Pretty bird, I'm a pretty bird. I'm a pretty bird.
Bird C: I was framed. They got the wrong guy.
Fernando: Sorry, guys. Nothing personal. So, what's going to happen to them?
Marcel: Don't worry, we're going to find good homes for them. Now go home to your mama.
Fernando: But I don't have a mama.
Marcel: Father?
Armando: Brother?
Tipa: Goldfish? Can we keep him, boss?
Marcel: No.
Tipa: So, Marcel, what's really going to happen to those birds?
Marcel: Plucked, stuffed, eaten, who cares? All I know is we're going to be rich.
Tipa: We're gonna be rich!