BIRD: We've had complaints.
BIRD: That there's too much sex on our flog.
BUFFALO: No way!
BIRD: Apparently, your woody just isn't doing it for the ladies. So it's time for Plan B.
BUFFALO: Plan B... OK. Uh, what is Plan B?
BIRD: We gotta show our feminine, touchy-feelie sides.
BUFFALO: Wot, like dress up in skirts and stuff?
BIRD: Oh, man. Think outside the box. Something that isn't about minxes and horns.
BUFFALO: You mean like violence or sumthin'?
BIRD: Why do I bother?
BUFFALO: I could tell you about the roadkill I tossed on the barbie for Independence Day. Charcoaled Groundhog. I tell ya, Birdy, ain't nothin' like it. Slap some peppers on and potato fritters. Vunder-bar!
BIRD: Hey, what about the multiple amputation sketch? That oughtta do it.
BUFFALO: Wot, the one with the flying testicles? I don't think so.
BIRD: The Christmas Santa sketch?
BUFFALO: The guy's just had a hysterectomy, dammit!
BIRD: Jeez, guess we better face it - we've been typecast.
BUFFALO: Hey, don't feel bad about it dude, I still love you.
BIRD: I love you, too, dude.
BUFFALO: We've got each other, right? Wot more do we need?
BIRD: You're a true friend, dude. I'll never forget you.
BUFFALO: Welling up over here, Birdy!
BIRD: Got the old waterworks working overtime here too, dude.
BUFFALO: You mean more to me than I can say, man. You know that.
BIRD: No, Buff, stop it. I can't...
BUFFALO: If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do.
(SOUNDS OF WAILING BIRD THROUGH SKY PEE)
BIRD: Write... the... cheque,... Momma. Omigod!