Get Fuzzy, Sunday, today.

Bucky: I'm goin' to get me some of them chickens that roam around down the street. Anybody want one?

Robert: Bucky. you can't take any chickens.

Bucky: Sure I can, I have a sack.

Robert: They're not your chickens, Bucky.

Bucky: Robert, the concept of property is such an artificial construct. For example: I've taken you under my proverbial wing for lo these many years, but would I ever say I "own" you? Who is to say whether one can ever actually own anything?

Robert: Police. Judges. The constitution.

Satchel: Chickens are your fellow animal, Bucky. It isn't ethical to eat -

Bucky: Not ethical? Lemme tell you what's not ethical: the way a chicken smells. Cock-a-doodle PEW.

Satchel: So you'd eat a chicken you were friends with??! (points accusing finger at Bucky)

Bucky: I will eat any animal any time.

Satchel: And I suppose you'd eat ME?

Bucky: Relax, Satchel. I'm not a vegetarian.