It's a global world! (overheard at the banquet)

“It’s a global world,” says the starched lady in front of us, “and we’ve got to do our part.”
“Excuse me?" says the old man sitting two seats over. "What’d you say?”
“I said, ‘We’ve got to do our part.’”
“No, no, the thing before that,” he points at the sky and spins his finger around. “That ‘Global’ thing.”
“It’s a global world?”
He turns his head slightly sideways, squints, grunts. "Thought that’s what you said.”
The three of them sit there and look sidelong at one another for an uncomfortable long time until the lady sitting between smiles at starchy, lays a familiar hand on the old guy's shoulder and grins at him with her eyes and says, “I’ll explain it to him later, Mrs.-- oop, sorry, Mizz Bow-aired?"
“Buard! Chairperson Buard, thank you.”
“Buh-wahrd?”
"Bwuh! Bward!"
The old guy leans over to his buddy and says, "Rhymes with lard."