By taste.
A nun with a javelin in her throat. (The only joke I can ever recall when asked for one. Told to me by my art teacher in Grade 11. Needless to say, he was my favourite teacher)
They look at YOUR shoes when they talk to you.
Tape his mouth shut.
Kick his sister's jaw in.
They're right! We do taste like chicken!
Like going down on your sister. It tastes the same but something's not right.
ME: Because we only anticipated having one of you.