第一页：片段欣赏
第二页：巧学口语
第三页：小小翻译家
第四页：文化一瞥

影片对白：

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!