SPARKY: Hey, man. Nipples. Wot are they?
BUFFALO: Well, dude, they're the little, sometimes big, round things at the end of the titty.
SPARKY: No shit! Really?
SPARKY: And wot do they look like?
BUFFALO: Well, um, sometimes like cherrys, sometimes like strawberries with a hint of elderflower.
SPARKY: Far out, man. Wonder why Cindy never had any.
BUFFALO: Cos Cindy was a friggin' doll, dude! Jeez. Sorry, Sparkers, old boy. I know you're still grievin' an' all. But I still don't understand why you woz playing with a blow-torch in your cave.
SPARKY: Not playing. Riddin' our hideout of the Charlie. One of 'em tried to abduct Cindy, man.
BUFFALO: So you hacidentally set her alight and melted her wax. Result.
SPARKY: Buffters, pliz, man, I'm hurtin' in here.
BUFFALO: Sorry, dude. So howzabout I come along to your next AA meeting?
SPARKY: Well, I'm not sure that they're ready for an auld perv like you, man. Say, you got any pictures of nipples? Kinda curious to see wot they look like.
BUFFALO: Thousands of 'em. All imported, course.
SPARKY: Lemmee see, man.
BUFFALO: Here ya go.
BUFFALO: Omigod! You've got a titty with nipple allergy, dude. Most hunfortunate.
SPARKY: Aaaaaaaa... aaaaaaaaaa...
BUFFALO: (closes laptop) Better leave it there, Sparkers. It might lead to convulsions.
SPARKY: Holy Ho Chi Minh shit! Does this mean I'll never enjoy a ripe nipple?
BUFFALO: Fraid so, dude. Better go get yerself another doll.
SPARKY: Life's a bitch, man.
BUFFALO: Ain't it just the way.
SPARKY: Want some more Toe Jam and cake?
BUFFALO: Sure. I'll put da kettle on.
SPARKY: Film at eleven?
BUFFALO: Arf, arf!