"Frog legs're a'ight," he agrees, though not without a little laugh at the comment about snails. "Aunt Winnie used to fry 'em up, if I'd catch 'em for her."

It's not quite as common a dish in Appalachian cooking as it is in the southern lowlands, maybe, but it's practical.

But, hold on, now--Cricket already might potentially owe Loki a favor. He doesn't want to get into the same situation with a strange demon, especially not over a burger. The smile from a moment ago lingers, but quirks with wary skepticism. "That's right kind of you, sir, only it seems like a poor way to welcome you to the Nexus. Maybe you best let me cover it."

Also potentially dangerous. But he's feeling his way along here, still. Meanwhile, he hasn't read the William Golding novel and only knows the phrase 'Lord of the Flies' from older references to Beelzebub, so he misses the pork connection, but after a moment's consideration, he nods. "Well, you can get bacon on pretty much everything, even double or triple."

"Uh, do you have a name I oughtta call you? I'm Cricket." He'd offer a handshake, but he's still a little leery.