In a seductive voice, "would you like a bite of my wiener," he says, and Snape, whose thinking right now that he'd rather like to turn Pegasus' wiener into a toad, stares into his plate and mutters "no thank you."
Pegasus slides closer on the bench. "It's extra tasty," and he waves it, dropping bits of chili sauce onto the picnic table. "Hot," he murmurs, "and juicy..." He slides closer, "and if you bite it just right, it'll squirt."
Snape slides further away.
"Are you sure?" Pegasus says.
"Look," Snape, whose got a wiener of his own, jabs it in Pegasus' direction as he talks, unregardful of the tomato slices and sport peppers that fly in all directions, "I'm a Wizard, do you have any idea what that means? I could destroy you with a single thought." His bun falls into pieces as he keeps jabbing, "I could turn that wiener of yours into a dragon that would eat this whole place." It's getting rather slippery now in his fingers, but he keeps jabbing, "will you shut up with your silly childish sexual innuendo," he says, "I'd like to eat my lunch before it gets cold." And, feeling vindicated, he sits back down and takes a bite of the wiener in his hand.
Pegasus laughs. "Certainly," he says, "no hard feelings," and he eats the rest of his in two bites and washes it down with Mr. Pibb.
"How about dessert," he adds, taking something from the side of his plate, "do you want to taste my banana?"