BIRD: I counted ten last night. Jeez, one even hopped onto the patio table and did a nifty little dance routine.
BUFFALO: Er, dude, have you been eating some of that Momma Space Cadet cake again?
BIRD: Nope. Just some great flapjack brought by one of the Stylo Twins. De-lish!
BUFFALO: Dude, it's probably got slow-working Benadryl in it. Those two like a good laff.
BIRD: Well, that's true. They ARE always laffing at sumthin' or other about me, but I don't take it poisonal, like.
BUFFALO: I so wish I coulda been there, Birdy. Sounds like you had a great time.
BIRD: OK, shhh, just between you and me. We finished the evening by drinking some of the old Spanish reddo with cheese. Now how rock'n'roll is that! Oh, and btw, you minxy Stylo Twins, it was all true about the frogs. They came out to play within minutes of your lamented departure.
BUFFALO: And did you see the bat?
BIRD: Ah, the bat. There were two of them last night. But there was two of everything last night.
BUFFALO: Must be the heat.
BIRD: That or the implant.
BUFFALO: Take it easy, dude.
BUFFALO: Film at eleven.