IT TAKES A TWITTER TO KNOW A TWITTER

BUFFALO: Dude, you dere?

BIRD: Halfway between the here and the chow.

BUFFALO: I think I've done it, I think I've found love, Birdy.

BIRD: Great! At last! What's her name?

BUFFALO: It's not a she, it's an it.

BIRD: Oh, you mean a Herman Afro Deity?

BUFFALO: No, dude, you berkoff, a philosophy.

BIRD: Oh, really? Forgive me while I yawn.

BUFFALO: Dude, it's called Wantism, and it really works. All you have to do is want something real bad and hey per-resto, you get it!

BIRD: And what is it exactly you want, dude?

BUFFALO: For fudge rocket's sake, dude, open yer lugholes - LOVE!!! And what's more, I got it. You see, I now realise, having signed up to Wantism Global thru Twitteroo that EVERYTHING is love. Look around you, everywhere you turn, whaddya see? Huh? LOVE, dude. As much as you or me or anyone will ever need. I'm tellin' ya, since this morning I have not touched my todger once.

BIRD: Whoa, a world record. Congrats. I'm really happy for you, but just tell me one thing - how does this LOVE love you back, hmmm? Hmmm?

BUFFALO: Dude, that's the old love, the one about give and take and all that outmoded bull. This is the real thing. LOVE IS... That's all.

BIRD: No subject, no object.

BUFFALO: Dat's right. Just the cosmic continuum, innit.

BIRD: Wow. I'll have to tell me missus about this. No more tantrums, no more heated arguments, no more disharmony, no more wounded egos, no more... us.

BUFFALO: You got it.

BIRD: Hmm... You know what, I don't think she'll go for that, and hactually, dude, when it comes to snuggling up in bedders, if it's a choice between the cosmic ultimatum and me dearly beloved, I'm going for the latter.

BUFFALO: Oh, farkwit! You've done it again, you've blown wide apart the best idea for inner peas EVER by introducing that which only speaks its name in the damnedest of terms - LONELINESS. You fudging fecker, dude! Thanks a lot.

BIRD: Takes a Twitter to know a Twitter, dude.

BUFFALO: Condemned to another night with Doris. Jeez...

BIRD: Film at eleven.

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!