All Fowled Up 1955

Foghorn Leghorn, noisy and two steps ahead in mischief, stalks the Barnyard Dawg with his usual swagger, sneaking up behind him, lifting his tail, and giving him a wooden-spanked wake-up call. The chase spools along a chain of pranks, ending with a moment where the dog is driven toward a well; as the rope yanks taut, the kennel teeters and finally plunges into the water below. After Dawg drains the well, he quietly plots revenge, creeping up on the rooster while he sleeps. Foghorn, certain that Dawg is “lower than a snake full of buckshot,” jokes about paying a visiting to him and “gently break him in two with my good right arm!” only to discover his own arm has turned slack and weak, prompting a plan to rebuild the strength he thinks he’s lost.

While he is doing push-ups, a flash of bright color catches his eye—a chicken with unusually short legs. When he snatches up the chick, he unexpectedly reveals Henery Hawk, who immediately targets the rooster. In a comic burst, Foghorn hurls Henery on a wild ride on a plate, which sails over to the Dawg’s kennel. The sight sparks panic in the dog, who hides inside and barricades the kennel, exclaiming in alarm at “A flying saucer! Little man from Mars!” Henery then slips through a back hole in the kennel, and Dawg bursts through the roof in his attempt to regain control of the chaos.

Dawg grabs the hawk and Henery explains that Foghorn is behind the trouble. Dawg warns Henery that Foghorn is, in fact, a chicken, and with that realization they decide to cook him. As Henery works to set the plan in motion, the heat from the fire blasts Foghorn out in a scream of pain, sending him crashing into a pile of trash. The rooster quickly realizes the truth: Dawg is the mastermind behind the sudden misfortunes, not some random mischief-maker. The moment is punctuated by Foghorn’s frenzied scramble and a rueful acknowledgment of the schemer who’s been pulling the strings.

In the subsequent schemes, Foghorn tries to stage a grand misdirection by building an elaborate pipeline meant to blow a stick of dynamite out of Dawg’s kennel. He lights a lighter to spark the fuse, but Dawg counters with a match of his own, flipping the balance in a split second. The fuse catches as the dynamite explodes, and the blast rips the rooster’s upper plumage right out of the pipe—an accidental blowback that leaves him with disheveled feathers and a dry, self-deprecating quip: “Fortunately, I keep my feathers numbered for… for just such an emergency.”

The battles escalate to a bid for a conclusive entombment. Foghorn uses a cement mixer, hoping to seal Dawg and his kennel in concrete. He pours a trickle of concrete from the mixer to secure the kennel in place, only to trigger a misfire when a ramp extends and the entire concrete load surges toward him. The hardening cement traps the rooster in a thinker’s pose, immobilizing him as Dawg looks on with wry satisfaction. The taunt from Dawg—“Well, smarty-pants, what ya gonna do now?”—gets a defiant but weary reply from Foghorn: “Don’t, I say, don’t bother me, dawg. Can’t ya see I’m thinkin’?”

Into this muddle steps Henery Hawk, returning with a satisfying, if cheeky, closing twist. He drags home a difficult-to-chew dinner and delivers the final zinger: > “Of all the kinds of chickens in the world, I had to catch me a Plymouth Rock!” The comic cadence of the finish clips the thread of the day’s chaos, leaving the audience with a classic image of a rooster, a wily hawk, and a stubborn bulldog, each playing their part in a never-ending cycle of pranks, escapes, and retribution.