(Cast: C => John Cleese, the customer ; P => Michael Palin, the pet shopkeeper )
C: I wish to register a complaint! Hello, miss...
P: What do you mean, 'miss'?
C: I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint.
P: Sorry, we're closed for lunch.
C: Never mind that my lad, I wish to complain about this parrot, what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
P: Ah, yes. The, er, the Norwegian Blue. What's er, what's wrong with it?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. He's dead, that's what's wrong with it.
P: No, no, he's er, he's resting.
C: Look mate, I know a dead parrot when I see one. And I am looking at one right now.
P: No, no, he's er, he's not dead, he's, he's resting, you know.... Remarkable bird, the Norwegian Blue, ain't it, hey? Beautiful plumage.
C: The plumage don't enter in to it! He's stone dead.
P: No, no, he's, he's resting.
C: Alright then, if he's resting I'll wake him up. Hello, mister Polly parrot, (sound of cage being hit) I got a nice fresh banana.
P: He moved.
C: No he didn't! I saw you hit the cage.
P: I never!
C: YES... YOU... DID!
P: I didn't.
C: HELLO POLLY! WAKEY, WAKEY! This is your nine o'clock alarm call! (sound of knocking) Now that is what I call a dead parrot.
P: He's stunned.
C: Stunned?
P: Yeah, you stunned him, just as he was waking up. Norwegian Blues stun easily.
C: Now look, don't play the slippery eel with me. That parrot is definitely deceased. And when I purchased it not half an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it being tired and shagged out after a long squawk.
P: Well, he's er, he's probably pining for the fjords.
C: Pining for the fjords?!! What kind of talk is that? Now why did it fall flat on his back the moment I got him home?
P: The Norwegian Blue prefers kipping on his back. Remarkable bird ain't it, ay, Major? Beautiful plumage!
C: Look, tosh, I took the liberty of examining that bird when I got it home, and I discovered that the only reason it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
P: Well of course it was NAILED there. Listen, if I hadn't nailed that bird down, it would have muscled out of them bars, bend them apart with his little beak and VOOM!
C: VOOM?
P: VOOM.
C: Mate, this parrot wouldn't voom if you put 4 million volts through it. He's bleedin' demised!
P: No, no, he's pining!
C: He's not pining, he's, he's passed on! This parrot is no more. He has ceased to be! He's expired and gone to meet his maker! He's a stiff. Bereft of life, he rests in peace. If you hadn't nailed him to the perch he'd be pushing up the daisies! He's up the twig! He's curled up his tootsies! He's shoveled off this mortal coil! He's rung down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible! He freakin snuffed it! Vis-a-vis the metabolic processes, he's had his lot! All statements to the effect that this parrot is still a going concern are from now on inoperative! This is an ex-parrot!
P: Well, I better replace it then.
C: If you want to get anything down in this country you have to complain till you're blue in the face. What's the news?
P: Well, I had a little look around the back. And we're right out of parrots.
C: I see, I see. I get the picture.
P: I got a slug.
C: Does it talk?
P: Yep!
C: Right. I'll have that one then.
