Babe1995

[Soon Babe is pink again. The puppies are sold to other farmers who needs sheepdogs. Rex has no patience with Fly's disgrace, but Mr. Hoggett pats her gently, and Babe licks her snout]

Babe:
Fly, may I call you Mom?

[Fly nuzzles the piglet tenderly. At last, Babe has truly found his place on Hoggett's farm. As the nights grow longer and colder, Babe grows bigger]

[First, Mr. and Mrs. Hoggett's daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren come to visit. The farmhouse is suddenly filled with all sorts of bright, shiny facts. There is singing and laughter. And the people pile brightly wrapped boxes under a tree inside the house]

Esme Hoggett:
Hello!

The Hoggetts' son-in-law:
Hey, folks, how are you? Merry Christmas!

Esme Hoggett:
Merry Christmas! How's my favorite girl? Nanny has a jellybean. Give us a kiss. And guess what we're having for Christmas dinner? Roast pork.

The Hoggetts' granddaughter:
I hate pork.

Maa:
Darn silly carry-on, if you ask me.

Horse:
The cat says they call it Christmas.

Ferdinand:
Christmas! Christmas dinner, yes. Dinner means death. Death means carnage! Christmas means carnage! CHRISTMAS MEANS CARNAGE!!

[Then one day, Mrs. Hoggett washes the mud off Babe and measures his taut belly with a tape measure. But Fly knows. She has seen other animals taken into the building near the barn. It is the fashion of nature, that doesn't stop her from feeling mournful]

The Hoggetts' granddaughter:
Wait.

Maa:
Eating pigs! Blaah! Barbarians!

Babe:
You're going back to the fields, Maa.

Maa:
Oh, young'un, tragic there ain't more of your kind. I'll be thinking of you always.

Babe:
I could come and visit you, Maa.

Maa:
I'd like that, but...well, we shouldn't hope for too much.

[Fly isn't the only one feeling mournful. Mr. Hoggett doesn't want to say a farewell to the sweet-tempted pig, either. Then he mentions to Mrs. Hoggett that it will be a disgrace to miss out on first prize for Best Ham at next year's fair. He knows his wife has a weakness for blue ribbons. And sure enough, she changes the Christmas menu to duck a l'orange]

Narrator:
And then, it was Christmas Eve, and time had run out for the pig.

Mrs. Hoggett:
Are you doing him tonight, then?

Farmer Hoggett:
Huh.

Mrs. Hoggett:
Sure. The blood will drain by morning.

Farmer Hoggett:
Pity.

Mrs. Hoggett:
What's that?

Farmer Hoggett:
Nothing.

Mrs. Hoggett:
What on earth are you rambling on about?

Farmer Hoggett:
Exchange to miss out on the best ham prize at next year's fair, is all. Nice plump haunches he's getting. Beautiful. Yet...silly to wait, I suppose so.