Bird: Wassup, Buff?
Buff: Birdy, never give out your password or credit card number in an instant message conversation.
Bird: Gone right off your pudding, have you?
Buff: It’s the computers, lad, they’re driving me barmy.
Bird: Hey, aren’t you seeing Dr Feelgood today?
Buff: Aye. Time for the annual you-know-what.
Bird: The digital thingee?
Buff: Yes.
Bird: Last time something came up at the last minute, if memory serves…
Buff: More like at the first minute, actually.
Bird: Oh, God… I remember now. Skyrockets in flight, afternoon Turkish delight.
Buff: Something like that.
Bird: My God, Buff, is nothing sacred anymore?
Buff: It’s all sacred, every bit of it.
Bird: But the Hippocratic Oath and all that, I mean.
Buff: Whatever.
Bird: Aren’t you, like, ashamed of yourself?
Buff: I got over it.
Bird: Well, be good, if you can manage it.
Buff: But of course.
Bird: Ailing pussies calling. Must go.
Buff: Tot ziens! Arf, arf!
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