A sudden wave of guilt washes over Tony. He never knew that Lunchlady Bigfoot felt so strongly about tater tots. He'd just been trying to impress Fred when he donned those booty shorts. The sight of his massive, pasty thighs parading around the cafeteria in Tater Thot Protest had probably come across as a slight to her culinary prowess.

"Aw, I'm sorry, L—" He pauses, looks over his shoulder for help from Jupiter or Trudy and finds none. "...or...raine?" he guesses. Gosh, he don't even know her name. Fortunately (and curiously) Lunchlady Bigfoot doesn't seem to notice.