Yellow Bird: Sometimes I find myself dive-bombing other cars on the highway, just because they haven't noticed the light switched.
Doctor: Have you ever questioned where this anger comes from, Yellow Bird?
Yellow Bird: From the Green Pigs. They stole our eggs, and so we're angry.
Doctor: Is that really where it came from?
Yellow Bird: Where else would it have come from? We're angry because we have to fight the pigs!
Doctor: Or maybe, just maybe, is it that you have to fight the pigs because you're angry? Think about it -- without the anger, you'd just be the birds. You'd be like every other cartoon tweetie. You wouldn't even have eyebrows.
Yellow Bird: But... but then... all those men died for nothing? All those pigs? All those precarious structures of rotting wood and ice-cubes or maybe glass? NOOOOOOOOOO!!!
[Yellow Bird dive bombs through a weak point in the rickety wall of the office and into the night]
Blue Bird: Bartender! Another three drinks!
Bartender: Don't you think you've had enough, Blue Bird?
Blue Bird: Goddammit, I'm drinking for three birds. THREE BIRDS.
Bartender: [quietly] I know it feels that way, Blue Bird, but they're all just you.
Blue Bird: [slightly frantic] Bring me another three drinks, or so help me god, I will divide in mid air and explode this bar in several places at once! Every single bottle will shatter, even if the wooden portions of the bar stay intact, dammit!
Bartender: Blue Bird, they're all. Just. You.
Blue Bird: Stop DOING this man! I can't take this right now. Give me the drinks! I'm three birds! [breathing shallowly] I hit buildings in three places! I... I...
Bartender: They're all. Just. You.
Blue Bird: [weakly] Dammit, Jim, you don't know what it was like over there. The weird mustaches some of those pigs would wear. [shakes head, resigned] Fine. Then give me another one drink.
Bartender: [cheerily] That I can do!
Red Bird: [rolling around, shaking and moaning] No, no more leprechaun hats!
Mrs. Red Bird: [shakes red bird violently] Red Bird!
Red Bird: [still thrashing] So many feathers! Black bird, what are you doing, the pressure will kill you! NOOO! BLACK BIRD!!!
Mrs. Red Bird: [shaking harder] Honey, wake up, you have to wake up!
Red Bird: [opens his eyes, looking confused] Wh- where am I?
Mrs. Red Bird: You're at home, in your bed, with your loving wife.
Red Bird: I'm sorry, did I wake you honey? I was dreaming I was over there again.
Mrs. Red Bird: It's okay. Do you want to tell me about it?
Red Bird: No, I'm fine. It's just... you know, we red birds were so low down the totem pole. Once we got into that catapult, we couldn't even change direction. It was a suicide mission from the start, and I think the higher-ups knew that. I lost so many good birds. [His voice quavers with emotion] So many good birds.
Mrs. Red Bird: Honey, that's not your fault. You were doing what you had to do to defend our nests.
Red Bird: Was I? [quietly, staring out the window fixedly] The more I think about it, the more I wonder if there were ever any stolen eggs in the first place.
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