The Beverly Hillbilly.

Owl soup and chicken fried hock.

Jethro, is that a chicken you're holding?

Nothing riles me like chickens in the kitchen.

Now, May, get this chicken out of here.

Jimmy, you'd best stop playing with that chicken.

Ain't nothing riles Granny more than chickens in the kitchen.

And he made me throw that chicken on you, too.

Her owl soup and chicken fried hock is getting cold.

We eat enough riles, Granny, more than chickens in her kitchen.

We're having a big doing.

I ate four great big bowls.

Well, heck, I ate four great big heapin' books.

Come on, maybe we can think of something if we go outside and put our two chicken brains together.

Hillbilly, that is.

How would you feel about a nice big dish of flaming blubber?

Yeah, you know, whomping up a big feed, tapping the keg of her cider.

One look at those hillbillies and I'm an Eskimo!

I reckon the sooner the better.

Oh, the excitement of the evening.