Babe, fresh from his victory in the sheepherding contest, returns to Farmer Hoggett's farm, but after Farmer Hoggett is injured and unable to work, Babe has to go to the big city to save the farm.

Farmer Hoggett: That'll do, pig. That'll do.
Flealick: Well, hey, slow down. If you're not a cat, stay and chat.
Bob: Hey, dogs, you got any edibles? Any nibbley-dibbleys?
Flealick: Eh, we got a carpet here with some nice spaghetti stains.
Nigel: But we can't keep licking the carpet, can we, Alan?
The Pitbull: It is decreed that all cats and dogs put aside their instinctive and fanatical abhorrence of each other and that hereafter, all creatures great and diminutive shall be of equal stature, with rights to liberty and justice
[singing]
The Pitbull: that nobody can deny. And so say all of us.
Ferdinand: Face it, you're just a little pig in the big city. What can you possibly do? What can anyone do? Why even try?
Babe: [in a dark alley, just past a "Beware: Savage Dogs" sign] Hello? Anybody home?
[dogs growling from the shadows]
Babe: Anybody else?
Zootie: We're going outside? Without a human? Could be kind of dangerous, you know, in a lethally sort of way.
Ferdinand: Ferdinand the duck, witness to insanity.
Bob: All I know is what I see. Tug comes in with the bag, just doin' his job, collectin' stuff, and you barge in here accusacating and making demandments.
Babe: Open up, please. Open this door.
Zootie: You got a problem, sweetie?
Babe: Um... uh...
Bob: Who is it, honey?
Zootie: It's, uh... kind of a baldy, pinky, whitey thingy.
Thelonius: This lowly, handless, deeply unattractive mudlover is a pig.
The Pitbull: [during jelly bean distribution to the hungry animals] Thank the pig.
Babe: You're very kind, but...
The Pitbull: No, no, I'm anything but kind. In fact, I have a professional obligation to be malicious.
Babe: Then you should change jobs.
The Pink Poodle: Please. Please. I know you're different from the others. Those that have had their way with me make their empty promises, but they are all lies - lies. And I'm afraid and terribly, terribly tired.
Babe: Where's your human?
The Pink Poodle: My humans belong to someone else now. Someone younger and prettier.
Snoop: I'm a sniffer, ya see. A fully qualified, triple-certificated sniffer.
Babe: Oh.
Snoop: It's all in the hooter, the schnoz, the olfactory instrument. You could be a sniffer with a schnoz like that.
Babe: I'm not a porkpie.
Zootie: Whatever you say, cutie pie.
Babe: I'm not any kind of pie. I'm just a pig on a mission.
Thelonius: And what have we here?
Bob: Well, um, we're in a negotiation with this naked, pink individual.
Zootie: He's of foreign extraction, your honor.
Easy: Possibly even an alien.
Babe: Sorry, Boss...
Bob: It's all illusory - it's ill, and it's for losers.
Babe: Well, I have to warn you, I may be small, but I can be ferocious if provoked.
The Narrator: Something broke through the terror - flickerings, fragments of his short life, the random events that delivered him to this, his moment of annihilation. As terror gave way to exhaustion, Babe turned to his attacker, his eyes filled with one simple question: Why?

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