Franch: To eat greedily and at great speed.
Loki watches in disbelief as Thor crams ham after ham into his mouth, barely pausing to swallow and pull the bones out of his teeth. Volstagg claps Thor on the back and tells him that he is finally eating like a real warrior should; Loki just rolls his eyes and thinks it quite a miracle that the livestock populations of Asgard haven't gone extinct by now, what with Volstagg and Thor and their constant feasting. The Jotunheimr frost chicks have also taken quite a liking to the meat, and several cling to Thor's arms and elbows, leaping up from the table with little cheeps to tear off tiny beakfuls of ham before Thor can stuff the whole thing into his mouth. Thor just brushes them aside and sets them down on the table; Sif scoops up three or four in the cradle of her hands and coos at them, laughing as they peck at her fingers and thumbs.
"Oh, for the Norns, please don't do that," Loki scolds his son, who is attempting to imitate his father and shove a whole drumstick into his mouth. "Small bites, please."
"Papa do it!" Modi protests, flailing his limbs and looking at his father, recently returned from the dungeons.
"Yes, yes, but you see, your papa is quite the barbarian," Loki tells him, taking the drumstick from his son and cutting it into perfectly manageable pieces. "You are a son of mine, and I will not tolerate such behaviour from you."
Jory peeks from around the gravy boat, where he is in the process of trying to swallow a whole tea egg. Upon seeing that Loki has not seen him yet, and is not paying any attention at all to him, Jory turns back to his prize, unhinges his jaws, and gulps it down.
Upon finding him later, Loki just sighs, stuffs the baby snake into the folds of his sleeve, and gives him a stern lecture about the perils of choking.