Mr. Praline:
I wish to complain about this parrot that I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
Owner:
Oh yes, the Norwegian Blue...What's wrong with it?
Mr. Praline:
I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. He's dead, that's what's wrong with it!
Owner:
No, no, He's just resting.
Mr. Praline:
All right then, if he's resting, I'll wake him up!
(yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly)
HELLO POLLY!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!
(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
Now that's what I call a dead parrot. 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!
His metabolic processes are now history!
He's off the twig! He's kicked the bucket,
He's shuffled off his mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!