DB: So you're my biggest asexual fan?
DZ: Oooh, David, you're so handsome! Nice forehead and romantic eyes.
DB: Stop staring at my tits, please.
DZ: OK, OK. So, what's your favourite dog breed?
DB: Ummm, diamond dogs?
DZ: Fab! Mine is terrier.
DB: You should buy one and move to Newcastle then.
DB: Then you'll have a new terrier in a new town.
DZ: (hysterical laughter) Oooh, Davy babes, you're so witty my beer gut is about to explode!
DZ: Hmmm, yes, I love it.
DB: Keep your hands off my zipper, you creepy chav.
DZ: You don't know how long I've wanted this, David!
DB: (singing) There's too much talking from this old tard
Too much mist in front of my eyes
I'm trying not to lose control
But he's just pushin' for a fight
(rips dogz's tits open with his own teeth, nails him to a wooden board, stuffs him with YA CDs and a live rat and sends his corpse to the museum of modern parts)
Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped.