When I was barbecuing the other day, one of the corn on the cobs I had on the grill rolled off and fell to the ground.
My wife suggested rinsing it off and tossing it back on to the grill. I would have, I replied, if the corn hadn't landed right next to Pyonkichi's toilet.
After a moment, she said, "If this were a time of war, we would probably eat the corn anyways."
"If this were a time of war," I shot back, "we would have eaten Pyonkichi long ago."