The parrots told me (in their language), "Dump the bitch." I replied (in their language), "You're pretty and all and I'm sure you know all the doormen in Orlando, but I know plenty of magpies on South Beach and you are all squawk and no play." That ruffled their feathers, and we were all about to get into some sort of aviary West Side Story when I heard, "I can't believe you think you can talk with birds. I'm so embarrassed." We (the parrots and me) threw a raised eyebrow toward each other and sighed. Here I was being made to take twirling dinosaur rides, pose with Mickey Mouse, and eat bland circus-like food in a almost liquor-free environment--questioning MY sanity. My friends, the birds, asked if I wanted to "Tippy Hedren him", but I said, "No, the poor thing is having to much fun to make sense. Let him be."