PALIN:
“He’s resting…
…He’s stunned…
Pining for the fjords?”
CLEESE:
“He’s not pining.
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 daisies. He’s off the twig.
He’s kicked the bucket.
He’s shuffled off his mortal coil.
This is an EX PARROT.”
PALIN:
“Well I’d better replace it then… Sorry squire. I’ve had a look and we’re right out of parrots…
I got a slug.”
