Kilgore: Smell that? You smell that?
Lance: What?
Kilgore: Bacon, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that.
[kneels]
Kilgore: I love the smell of bacon in the morning. You know, one time we cooked bacon, for 12 hours. The smell, you know that bacon smell, the whole hill. Smelled like
[sniffing, pondering]
Kilgore: breakfast.