"Beatrice?" Or not Beatrice. Greg's excitement diminishes slightly. He pushes himself to his feet and dusts off his butt. "You're not Beatrice. Are you her sister?" What are the chances that two talking birds aren't related? Pretty slim, he thinks. Or maybe they aren't and he's being bird racist. Hm. He hoists himself up Antonio one handful of fur at a time until he's sitting on Antonio's back, all the better to see how the crowd of people is pushed up against the clear walls, watching him. He grins and puts his hands on his hips, posing for the cameras.