Mitsuki Bakugo: You call that chili? It looks like a bean bath with delusions.
Pika: Ma'am, this here pot's gonna win so hard it'll make your little scorecard cry.
Mitsuki Bakugo: One bite. Yellow bean paste. No heat, no backbone, no damn reason to exist.
Pika: Well, bless your loud-ass heart. You swallowed one spoonful and grew a whole damn personality problem.
Pika: Listen here, you loud-ass pantry tyrant. Your instincts are so busted, a wet napkin could outcook you, sugar.
Mitsuki Bakugo: Get off that bench before I turn your tail into a warning sign.
Mitsuki Bakugo: Keep flapping that filthy mouth and I'll make you a battery-powered doorstop.
Pika: Oh, honey, you ain't got the voltage. I've seen dead porch lights with more bite than you.
Mitsuki Bakugo: You sabotaged my bowl, you little electric bastard!
Pika: And you drowned mine in vinegar, ya hot-headed jackass. Take the spoon, sugar, and taste your own bad decisions.
Mitsuki Bakugo: You fried the table!
Pika: I got provoked, damn it! This is on you, you explosive kitchen gremlin!
Mitsuki Bakugo: Hold on. You scored us?
Pika: One point ahead, darlin'. Turns out my mouth's meaner than your whole damn family.
Mitsuki Bakugo: Take your stupid trophy and stop smiling.
Pika: Now, does this gold bucket come with biscuits, or was the prize committee cheap as hell?