Monday, President Barack Obama signed a law making the bison the first national mammal.
What about the bald eagle? Well, it's not technically a mammal because it births its young via eggs. Suck on that, baldie.
Needless to say, our pal Ralphie was stoked to hear the news. We got her on the horn Monday to discuss her feelings, what our gameplan should be and her severe bowel problems.
This is an edited excerpt from an earlier recorded conversation.
Ralphie: OMFG, Fantz. Did you see that news? I am so excited I could lay bison pies all over Folsom.
Fantz: Hell yes. Congrats, girl. Now that you're on top, we need to polish up that image of yours. Let's toss you in some Elmer's and roll you around in glitter. This is your time to shine.
Ralphie: Your mom's on top.
Fantz: (sighing) Our task at hand won't be easy. But in the end, I will have primed you to not only run with this honor — but to stampede, flatten and spank the hell out of it.
Ralphie: I spanked your mom last night.
Fantz: Of course you did.
Firstly, you need a power ballad. This will be blasted as your ringtone, it will act as your pre-game pump-up session, it's your cruising for bros on the Hill in the Prius anthem and your warm-up for a night out of bumping and humping.
Ralphie: But I already have a power song...
Fantz: Shh. Go download "Buffalo Stance"...
Ralphie: Don't you get fresh with me.
Fantz: Sweet, you know the song. Neneh Cherry tore it up in 1989 with that gem. And since you're Queen Beast, when you're strutting down Rodeo Drive in your double pair of Louboutins and a Preble's Meadow Jumping Mouse fur coat, we want heads to turn. Jaws to drop. Videos to viral.
Ralphie: This all sounds too fancy.
Fantz: But you're the matriarch of all buffaloes...
Ralphie: No, there's Buffalo Wings. Buffalo New York. Buffalo Bills. Buffalo Exchange.
Fantz: Those aren't mammals, Ralphie.
This is your chance to tell the prairie dogs to suck on gas; to tell Cam the Ram to headbutt an electric fence and Lawrence Elk to snack on some invasive Rocky Flats grass.
You're the queen.
Ralphie: Let's talk about it tonight. Meet at the warehouse on 55th and Arapahoe at dusk. It's a great spot, every time I show up the masses scatter like the GOP. Then I have the place to myself. It's peaceful and the grass is so delicious. I think they water it with steak and puppies.
Fantz: That's a grow house, fool. Plus, you're trespassing. The reason why the joint clears out is because you're a giant bison eating weed.
Meet me at the Downer instead, I don't want to get arrested.
Ralphie: You know I can't fit down that staircase. I've put on a couple pounds in the off-season. Plus those low ceilings aren't conducive to my gassy nature.
Fantz: Fine. Pearl Street Pub.
Ralphie: What, so they can slice off my head and hammer it to the wall?
Fantz: That's not how it...
Ralphie: Just meet me at the salon. I need to get my hair did and my beaver waxed.
Fantz: This is getting awkward. I'll call you tomorrow.
Ralphie: My pet beaver. She's has an ingrown hair problem.
Fantz: We have some serious work to do.