Monterey: Ah Ginger, the most wonderful female I knew. She was the best. I remember the first time I saw her. It was late in the day, which was during our winter, so it was still as dark as...well, it was as dark as something, and I was out by the beach recovering from an otherwise strenuous day on the job. As usual, the local girls had hovered around me just minutes before, laughing at how fat my wings were, and as usual they left to go taunt the killer whales to lunge for the shoreline and eat everyone who was still there. It would’ve been maybe three minutes after they left me when they got bored of that too and decided to head home. So then it was just me and the silence again. And that’s precisely when I saw her silhouette by a shimmering iceberg. I was curious, so I waddled over to get a better look, when sure enough I found her laying her eggs. And it was that moment that I knew I was in love.

Ginger: Yeah, I remember Monterey. The bird never did have a sensible head on his shoulders. I told him a thousand times to leave me alone because I already had a male, but he never listened. Well, maybe he listened, but he never caught onto my total lack of interest. That’s when I finally had to bop him in the head with a snowball.