"...People can do that?" Francine murmured after one of Katchoo's more colorful criticisms. She managed to get half-upright again and was slowly crabwalking backwards -- okay, scooting backwards on her butt -- away from the flailing wings.

"You oughtta know, pork roast!" the harpy screeched, still favoring her wing as she made a return circle towards Katchoo. "Your mom does it every night! With ketchup!"