“In the name of Bacon will you chicken me up that egg.Shall I swallow cave-phantoms?”

“But Virginia, bacon is breafast. And nothing sets my nostrils twitching like bacon in the morning. Little pigs parading up and down with their curly cork screw tails... Bacon sizzling away on a iron frying pan. Baste it, roast it, toast it, nibble it, chew it, bite right through it, wobble it, gobble it, wrap it round a couple of chickens and am I ravenous!”

“You named the chicken, Chicken?" She looked embarrassed. "When we decided not to kill it, I got attached.”

“If you've ever tried ba travel, I wouldn't recommend it-- unless of course you fancy turning into a phantom chicken and rafting uncontrollably through the currents of the Duat.”

“Tribe cats are named after the first thing their mother sees, but I thing this would lead to a lot of kits being named 'wall of cave', 'side of cave' and 'floor of cave”

“Listen to this, okay? Just listen. You hear that? That's market bacon hitting the pan. Today a child is born unto us, and his name will be bacon.”