— And you know what they call a... a... a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?
— They don't call it a Quarter Pounder with cheese?
— No man, they got the metric system. They wouldn't know what the fuck a Quarter Pounder is.
— Then what do they call it?
— They call it a Royale with cheese.
— A Royale with cheese. What do they call a Big Mac?
— Well, a Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it le Big-Mac.
When one thinks about eating one's heart grows lighter, and Auntie began thinking how that day she had stolen the leg of a chicken from Fyodor Timofeyitch, and had hidden it in the drawing-room, between the cupboard and the wall, where there were a great many spiders' webs and a great deal of dust. Would it not be as well to go now and look whether the chicken leg were still there or not? It was very possible that her master had found it and eaten it.