BIRD: Dude, she's gone.
BUFFALO: Come again slowly?
BIRD: Potty Dotty. Packed her things and left.
BUFFALO: Fugget it, dude. Wot can you do with a gal who hasn't had a good laff since she lost her Virginity? We did our best, but it was not meant Toby, Watson. Let it go, bro. Some Finns go right and Some Finns don't, and nevermore the Mark Twain shall meet, Horatio. Some are rich in spirit, some are Poe in spirit, and some are immersed in spirits and can't see the Black Forest Cake for the kooky trees. Some Finns blow yer skirt up and some don't. It's just the whey it is. Some hit the mark and some missmuffet. Some come running and some don't come at all, but just sit around on tuffets giving themselves candle dips and cheap trills, until along comes a spider and sits down beside her, and pulls out his old bazooker and says, "Get a hold of this, get a hold of that. When there isn't a woman about, you do feel lonesome. Absolutely on the shelf, nothing to do but do yerself, when there isn't a woman about!"
BIRD: You are so right, dude. Tanks, Buffters!
BUFFALO: Just call me Butter, cos I'm on a roll!
BIRD: Film at eleven.
BUFFALO: Arf, arf!