guy- Escuse me, lunch lady... The food was edible, and all, but I have a complaint.
LL- It was cheap and it was food. Why split hairs?
guy- Well, mam, I'm not one to split hairs, normally, but... I don't normally eat them, either.
LL- Are you saying there was a hair in your food?
guy- Yes ma'am. A Harrier hair.
LL- What? A hair can't be hairy. It is simply a hair.
guy- No, not hairrier, but Harrier. The breed of dog. A sort of hound.
LL- I can assure you, sir. We do not employ Harrier's in this cafeteria, and all of our lunch ladies wear hair nets.

blah blah blah

Anyway... here's Harry (aka, Harrison T. Harrier), dressed as a lunch lady.