Are we frittering it all away now?
Corn you make me some of those with butter and maple syrup?
What’s with all the flap, Jack?
How fluffy are your hot cakes, Jack?
How fluffy do you want them to be?
Do you flip for pancake day?
Was your brain scrambled on egg day?
Isn’t one egg un oeuf?
EDIT: D’oh! Foiled by the end-of-the-page syndrome!
In play: Do you like your pancakes scrambled?
Are you prepared to duck when I fling the skillet across the room due to scrambled pancakes?
Why so touchy? Did some crepe dump you for a tart?
If you’re feeling low, could I just popover?
Or should we eclair a truce?
What? Did you get your mother’s sister mad and end up with a cross aunt?
Or was it her pet rabbit, and you had a hot cross bunny?
If the bunny was from Cardiff, wouldn’t it be a Welsh Rabbit?
Why is there a hare in my soup?
Could it have be a lepus of faith?
{Welcome, Count!}
Or could it have transformed from a lagomorph?
How long am I going to be hopping to the dictionary?