“Hey, brain, what do you think of that little cutie walking down the street?”
“I don’t think anything about her at all, heart. I’m happily married. And so are you. Or have you forgotten?”
“Of course, I forget all the time. I’m the heart. I can’t remember nothing. You’re the brain, Mr. Smartypants. You don’t forget nothing.”
“Don’t forget anything. Your grammar really makes my blood boil.”
“And it ain’t your blood, genius. It’s my blood, because I’m the one who pumps it.”
“Could you two keep it down up there? I’m trying to digest some food here, and that hamburger ain’t gonna metabolize itself, you know.”
“You ate another hamburger? Stomach, don’t you remember what our doctor said?”
“You’re the brain. You’re supposed to remember those things for all us.”
“Yeah, meathead. All this is your fault.”
“That’s right, heart.”
“That’s right, heart.”
“Thank you, stomach.”
“I’ve been meaning to have a talk with you guys. Liver, lungs, you better listen up too.”
“I know I’ve caused us to cough too much lately. So get off my back.”
“And I—I wanna know who’s responsible for all that cheap gin? You’re wearing out this old liver.”
“That’s just it, my fellow organs. We’re all wearing out. I don’t know if you realize it, but we’re 67 years old. Now, that’s not scary old, but it’s getting on up there. We need to take care of ourselves better. I’m beginning to forget things, and I’m just too tired to keep reminding everyone to do his job.”
“You’re going to replace me with a younger heart, aren’t you? That’s what this is all about. You’re going to rip me out of my home and give it to some stronger, sexier heart. After all these years of faithful service, and this is what I get.”
“There you go, pumping yourself into another fit. That’s why I got ulcers. You and your fits.”
“Nobody loves me anymore. That’s all that a heart lives for is love, and you all hate me.”
“Whattaya mean? You’re the center of our lives! Whoever thinks of a liver? Nobody. I’m supposed to shut up and keep on working. I don’t even know what I do, but I keep on doing it so we can all live.”
“Brain, could we move this conversation elsewhere? That guy next to us is smoking a cigar, and I’m about to break out in another coughing attack. I know that shakes everybody up.”
“Hey, this walking around feels kinda good.”
“Watch out. I just processed some excess gas, and it’s makin’ its way through the large intestine.”
“Thank you, stomach. That’s very considerate of you. You know what I think?”
“There he goes again. The brain is gonna tell us what to think.”
“Can it, heart. I’ve got a cough coming on, and it’ll make you feel even worse. We don’t need that.”
“All I wanted to say was, buddies, we’ve been working together for a long time, and I just want you to know it’s been an honor, a real honor.”
“Now that’s something the heart should say. Nobody ever lets me say the good stuff.”
“Shut up, heart. You’re makin’ my ulcers act up.”