An apple tree stands alone at the top of a hill. A handsome
fox dressed in an Edwardian-style navy velvet suit leans
against it with his arms folded and his legs crossed, chewing
on a reed of wild grass. He holds an apple core in his paw.
He spits out a seed. He looks off across a meadow that
descends into the valley below.
A female fox strides briskly up the hill. Her coat is a
paler, especially beautiful shade of fox-red, and she wears
men's trousers and a dark tunic. Fox says as she approaches:
Fox
What'd the doctor say?
Mrs. Fox
Nothing. Supposedly, it's just a twenty-
four hour bug. He gave me some pills.
Fox
(REASSURINGLY)
I told you. You probably just ate some
bad gristle.
Fox brushes the fur on Mrs. Fox's ears with his paws. They
walk together along the crest of the hill to a fork in the
path. Fox points:
Fox
Should we take the short cut or the
scenic route?
Mrs. Fox
Let's take the short cut.
Fox
But the scenic route is so much prettier.
Mrs. Fox
(SHRUGS)
OK, let's take the scenic route.
Fox
Great. It's actually slightly quicker,
anyway.
Fox throws his apple core away over his shoulder and dances a
quick circle around Mrs. Fox, wrapping his arm around her
waist extravagantly and making her laugh as they start off
down the scenic route.
2
EXT. FARM. DAY
A rustic cottage surrounded by a small barn, a tin silo, and
a rickity windmill. There is a sheep in a little pasture. A
sign on a rail says Berkus Squab. Fox and Mrs. Fox watch from
the bushes outside a fence.
Mrs. Fox
What is a squab?
Fox
You know what a squab is. It's like a
pigeon, I suppose. Anyway, it's a type of
bird we can eat.
Fox motions toward the edge of the property.
Fox
Should we go through the hole under the
horse fence or climb the rail over the
bridle path?
Mrs. Fox
Well, I guess the horse fence would be a
little safer.
Fox
But the bridle path puts us out right
next to the squab shack.
Mrs. Fox hesitates. She fiddles with her paws. She nods
nervously. She shakes slightly. Fox looks at her funny.
Fox
What's wrong? I've never seen you like
this. You're acting all skittish. Don't
worry. I've been stealing birds for a
living since before I could trot.
Mrs. Fox
(SHRUGS)
OK, let's take the —
Fox
No, we'll do the horse fence. You gave me
the scenic route already.
Fox flashes a smile. He says suddenly:
Fox
By the way, you look unbelievably
beautiful tonight. You're practically
glowing. Maybe it's the lighting.
3
Mrs. Fox is, in fact, glowing, albeit ever so slightly. She
stares at Fox enigmatically. Fox touches his paw to her
cheek.
(NOTE: an alternate version of Mrs. Fox will be used for this
shot which can be literally lit from within.)
With the speed, grace, and precision of athletes, Fox and
Mrs. Fox: dart through a hole under a painted fence; race
along a thin trail next to a garage; crawl beneath a window
where a blonde woman serves an early dinner, dealing
hamburgers like playing cards to three little, blond
children; creep past a doghouse where a golden retriever
sleeps with an airline sleeping mask over his eyes; and
shimmy over a doorway outside a workshop where a blond,
bearded farmer hacks into a stump with a hatchet, completely
pulverizing it into sawdust. They arrive in front of a wooden
shed. Fox whistles sharply with a half-chirp and performs a
rapid reverse-flip with a flourish.
Fox lifts a loose board. He looks to Mrs. Fox and puts his
finger to his lips for her to be quiet. She shrugs
impatiently. They duck inside.
They come back out. Each holds a dead, bloody pigeon in
his/her teeth. They start to run away. Fox looks up above
them. He stops. He frowns. He takes the pigeon out of his
mouth and says curiously, pointing toward the sky:
Fox
What's that? I think that's a fox-trap!
Look at this.
Mrs. Fox
Get away from there.
Fox
Is it spring-loaded? Yeah…
(pointing to different spots)
I guess if you come from over there, and
you're standing at the door to the squab
shack, this little gadget probably
triggers the —
(gesturing to Mrs. Fox)
Move out of the way, darling. That's
right where it's going to land.