“Chickens have an uncanny sense of direction.”
“Hmm, it may have taken him thirty-five years, but he finally found himself a woman with a good sense of direction.”
“Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish? I know it's tuna, but it says 'Chicken by the Sea.”
“She had this uncanny sense of seeing things the way they were instead of the way you'd want them to be, of knowing me better than I knew myself. She could sniff out the truth even if it hurt.”
“Does a chicken have lips?”
“Five minutes later she had rearranged them into several words, none of which made any sense."Nosy tennis?" she said. "No, wait. Sticky cabin? Shitty chicken?"Driggs frowned. "Wait-""Shitty chicken? Really, Driggs?""No, no. Cabin.”