Elmer: Got you, you wabbit stew, you.

Bugs: Look, Doc. Are you looking for trouble? I’m not a stewing rabbit. I’m a fwicasseeing wabbit.

Elmer: Fwicasseeing wabbit?

Bugs: Have you got a fwicasseeing wabbit license?

Elmer: Well, no. I-

Bugs: Do you happen to know what the penalty is for shooting a fwicasseeing wabbit without a fwicasseeing wabbit license?

Daffy: Just a parboiled minute! What is this, a cooking class? Shoot him! Shoot him!

Daffy: (writing) This license permits bearer to shoot a fricasa— fricasa— Hey, bud. How do ya spell “fricaseein’”?

Bugs: F-R-I-C-A-S-E-E-I-N-G... uh, D-U-C-K.

Daffy: Well, I guess I'm the goat.

Daffy: You're a dirty dog.

Bugs: And you are a dirty skunk!

Daffy: I’m a dirty skunk?! I’m a dirty skunk?!

Daffy: Why, if he’s dead, then I’m a mongoose!

Elmer: More bwiefing?

Daffy: More briefing.

Daffy: Shoot me again! I enjoy it! I love the smell of burnt feathers! And gunpowder! And cordite! I’m an elk! Shoot me! Go on! It’s elk season! I’m a fiddler crab! Why don’t you shoot me?! It’s fiddler crab season!

Daffy: You’re despicable.