BIRD: You still there?
BUFFALO: Yep. Strapped up in the last wagon wheel to hell.
BIRD: That good, eh? Maybe you should drop the meds.
BUFFALO: The last time I did that, Clare ambushed me in my Ford Mustang. Now the steering's gone to total bollaxery. And the eyesight ain't that good neither.
BIRD: Dude, it breaks my heart to see you like this. Is there nothing I can do to help?
BUFFALO: Dude, you've done more than enuff. Nope, this is my starring roll. The slow fadeout, the pulling of the plug on the longest pimple on the earth's bulging groin. Ain't nuffink but slowburn from now on.
BIRD: But if you hurry, maybe you can stop the article going to print.
BUFFALO: Too damned honest for my own goods. And now I shall leave this world the same way I entered it - with a sore ass in an arc of P.
BIRD: Dude, you can start again.
BUFFALO: Without mah kith and kin, universally hated throughout the Motown state and shunned in Florida?
BIRD: Screw the lot of 'em. You've still got Sparky.
BUFFALO: Dude, Sparky went over to the waxwork side, if ya get m'drift, long before he found salvation out on the ledge with a passing parakeet. No, dude. It's da end of da road for this auld Buff. And Frank Lee, I ain't got the energy to slide outta bed, never mind face the press.
BIRD: The press?
BUFFALO: And TV. Got a slot on the Jon Stewart Show tonite - because of the revelations.
BIRD: What revelations?
BUFFALO: The churlish armpits in high places! Don't you remember ANYTHING I tell you?
BIRD: Er, about 70%, which is quite high. I have no recollection whatsoever of what my parents have been babbling on about for the last ten years.
BUFFALO: Dude, armpits are big in the US of A. That's why I've been studying them for so long. That's why I'm in deep squid now. Fuggit the family woes. We're talking major celebs, Senators, academics, community leaders - they all have dark secrets when it comes to armpits. And fookwit here uncovered every last one of them. And now there's a hit out on me.
BIRD: Thou doth exaggerate, methinks.
BUFFALO: Birdman, in a matter of hours I shall be flat out on a slab as dead in body as I have been in the mind for most of my adult life. I should've known better than to mess with the armpit mafia. And now I must pay the price.
BIRD: Dude, you're infusional again. Put Sparky on. We'll get this sorted.
(LOUD BANG ON DOOR)
BUFFALO: It's happened, dude. They've come for me. Pray for my console!
BIRD: Yeah, right! Now stop mucking about!
(GUNSHOTS, RIMSHOTS, SCREAMS)
BIRD: Dude!
UNIDENTIFIED CELEB # 1: Fry him, Joe!
UNIDENTIFIED CELEB # 2: String him up by the armpits till he croaks!
UNIDENTIFIED CELEB # 3: Ain't nuthin' wrong with my armpits a bit of surgery won't cure and he KNOWS THAT!
(MORE SCREAMS, GAGGING, SQUEALING LIKE A BOAR-PIG)
BIRD: Buff! Buff! What are you doing to him?!
UNIDENTIFIED CELEB # 1: We'll give you churlish armpits, you sweat stirrer! That's it, boys, rip out the hairs ONE BY ONE!
(EXCRUTIATING SCREAMS)
UNIDENTIFIED CELEB # 2: Say goodbye to Birdy now, Bison chops!
BUFFALO: Birdy! Argh!!!!! Don't give up, dude! Blog the good bloggggg...
BIRD: Dude!
BUFFALO: Argh-fff, argh-fff!
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