BIRD: Buffers, are you decent? Or sober even?
BUFFALO: I'm dressed, dude. Best I can do at the marmot.
BIRD: The East Fenwick Lunatic Conservatory has arsed me to give you a sanity test, to see if you're depressed, like. Are you willing to put your gulliver under the knife, so to speak?
BUFFALO: Better than sticking it in the Cusinart food processor, I s'pose. Fire away, Birdman.
BIRD: Here we go. Are you often restless?
BUFFALO: Only when I haven't had enough nectar and chips.
BIRD: Are you often irritable?
BUFFALO: I refer you to my previous utterance.
BIRD: Do you experience irregular sleep patterns?
BUFFALO: Irregular movements, but that's bowel the by.
BIRD: Do you enjoy hobbies, your friends, family or leisure?
BUFFALO: Er, lemme see. No, no, no, and er, no.
BIRD: Would you mind elaborating?
BUFFALO: Not a tool. My hobbies have all been made illegal, I've pretty much outlived all my friends, except Sparky and he's still in mourning for his waxwork. My family disowned me years ago after the bang in the rug incident. My leisure time is spent trying to choose what to do then weighing up what the chances are of the cops catching me for it.
BIRD: Tell me, are you having trouble managing your health?
BUFFALO: Yep. The budget's a bit low and the centre doesn't know what the fook the outlying regions are up to.
BIRD: Do you have nagging aches and pains that never get better?
BUFFALO: I have but one bloody albatross around my neck that goes by the name Osbee.
BIRD: Ah, the O.S.B. is it? The DNA Night Depository?
BUFFALO: Jawohl, my avian friend.
BIRD: Do you have trouble concentrating or making simple decisions?
BUFFALO: I can outstare any sumbitch. But to tell you the verifiable truth, I haven't made a decision since Carol left me and I'm still waiting for her to come back.
BIRD: Do others often comment on your mood or attitude?
BUFFALO: Yes, but only the once, if you get m'drift.
BIRD: Do you harbour any thoughts of harming yourself?
BUFFALO: If biffing Carol or Cheryl or Candy to death qualifies, then yeah. That and blowin' me fookin' brains out.
BIRD: Does depresssion run in your family?
BUFFALO: Used to, but me mum sold off the troublesome siblings to buy a bottle of Muscatel. Started a long tradition, that.
BIRD: Do you often experience digestive problems?
BUFFALO: Only when I swallow. Food or drink, that is.
BIRD: Last question: in a plane crash would you keep the vodka, parachute, mirror or Playboy magazine?
BUFFALO: The mirror, so's I could watch myself gradually deteriorate, curl up and die.
BIRD: Great. That's it. The questioneers are eternally Grate Full, dude.
BUFFALO: Good manners go a long way in a world of darkness and malnutrition. So how'd I do?
BIRD: (counts meticulously) Amazing. A perfect score.
BUFFALO: That's my boy! So what do I win?
BIRD: A complete makeover at the local Insolvent Green Processing Center. Take this email chit and turn it in at the front door.
BUFFALO: Is there an expiry date?
BIRD: Yes. "About twenty minutes after you arrive".
BUFFALO: Highly illogical, dude.
BIRD: Trust me, it doesn't matter.
BUFFALO: How late are they open?
BIRD: Says here, "Insolvent Green, open 24/7, come up and see us, it's just like Heaven!"
BUFFALO: You know, on second tarts, I think I'll just fire up this old roach instead. Ummmm. Ahhhh.
BIRD: Feeling better now, Buffers?
BUFFALO: Mellow yellow, Birdy. Now, bring on that polar bear I have to shag.
BIRD: My lips are seal-ed, Buffy.
BUFFALO: All right, walrus. The penguin is mightier than the swordfish, y'know. And hand me another bottle of that Iceberg Lemonade. Mmm-hmm.
BIRD: Phil Mwah at eleven.
BUFFALO: Arf, arf!
WATSON: I say, Holmes...
HOLMES: Not now, Watson. I'm trying to predict their next move.
WATSON: More fruit cake, old chap?
HOLMES: No, thank you, old bean. What was that, Mrs Hudson?
MRS HUDSON: I said how much longer do I have to bend over on this carpet, Mr Sherlock? Me knees are in agony.
HOLMES: Not much longer now, Hudders. Now keep VERY still...
TO BE CONTINUED?