"You'll only rot your teeth and it'll go straight to your thighs and other appropriate health warnings," Wash says with an affected sigh.

After stealing a bit of French toast for himself, and after a few seconds' worth of carefully eyeing those claws and teeth, Wash braces himself on the Bar and leans over to deposit the plate on the floor. He straightens up as quickly as he can to get out of the way of pending raptor attack.