Here's the scene:

Chicken is strapped into his car seat, eating Annie's Cheddar Bunnies from the convenient single serving pouch. I am driving, listening to my audiobook, relieved that I can ignore my children for a little while. 

A high-pitched voice pipes up from the backseat. I check my mirror, and I see Chicken holding a single bunny between his thumb and forefinger. He appears to be scolding it.

Chicken: No! No! No!

He stuffs the bunny into his snarling mouth with a monster-sounding CHOMP. He pulls another bunny out of the bag and squeaks again.

Chicken: No! No! Please! Don't eat my hands!

CHOMP. Chicken bites the top half off of the bunny's body.

Me: What's going on back there, baby?

Chicken: I just ate his face.

Me: Wow. So... that was the bunny? Saying no?

Chicken: Yeah.

Me: So... you were doing the bunny's voice? As it begged? For its life?

Chicken: Yeah. And then I ate his face.

He smiles.

Me: Well... huh. Um. Maybe the bunny doesn't have to be scared. Maybe he's just going into your tummy where his friends are having a bunny party.

Chicken: A party?

Me: Yeah!

Chicken: In my tummy?

Me: Yeah! Doesn't that sound nice?

Chicken: Yeah!

He pulls another bunny out of the bag, cuddles it against his cheek, and croons.

Chicken: Don't worry, honey. Don't worry, bunny. You're just going to the party now.

CHOMP. He chuckles softly.

Chicken: Silly bunny.