Newton: Did one of Ashton’s chickens escape her emporium? I had better round him up.
Newton: Where are you going, little chick?
Newton: Uh-oh. Are you okay, little chick? Chick?
Newton: Do you need me to give you first aid? Ashton is going to be mad if you are hurt.
Newton: Wait a minute. You don’t smell like a chick. You’re a duckling!
Newton: That means you aren’t part of the chicken emporium. You can be all mine!
Ashton: Hi, Newt! Is that my chicken?
Newton: No, it’s a duckling. You don’t have a duckling emporium, so I’m sure that duckling isn’t yours.
Ashton: I’m pretty sure Miss Connie meant that little bird for my emporium. Don’t mess with him any more, Newt!