“They ate and picked sand from their chicken in the pink light.”

“They dined on mince, and slices of quinceWhich they ate with a runcible spoon;And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,They danced by the light of the moon.”

“He also ate every scrap of the cold meat she had cooked for him, and good gods, it was pretty awful. Somehow she had managed to wreck the simple task of browning chicken in a skillet. The outside was charred black, and the inside oozed juice that was still pink.”

“The Owl and the Pussycat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat:They took some honey, and plenty of moneyWrapped up in a five-pound note. . . They dined on mince and slices of quince,Which they ate with a runcible spoon;And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,They danced by the light of the moon, The moon, The moon,They danced by the light of the moon.”

“One of them hung a pink bra from our lighting fixture. I left it there. It was a nice bra”

“I left it with a warmer,” he said drily. Because war mages ate their fried chicken frozen to the ground and they liked it.”