[Fortunately, she's taking care of that bacon heap now--she scrapes the bits onto her plate.]
Oh, no. Not at all. I doubt they will even care. Perhaps it can be a new carapacian holiday?
Anyway, today is the day I kill Jack Noir. [Pardon her while she slowly, meticulously licks bacon grease off that plate, tilted so she can still look at them. For conversational purposes. Of course.]