On Toast
"So you eat this? Like, with your mouth?"
"Some consider it a delicacy."
"But there are nice things in the imported food aisle. Yummy chocolate. Caviar." Cordelia examines the triangle of toast. The brown stuff smeared over the butter looks – and smells – like something that came out of the sewer between a demon's toes.
She finally what-the-hells and takes a bite, just as he tells her, "You either love it or hate it." Well, gee, what a slogan. "You know, Wes," she says, wiping off the crumbs, "you people need to learn to sell yourselves. This is L.A."