You know what they say: the way to a pig's heart is through his stomach.

With the familiarity of a gymnist on a beam, Junkrat shifts out of Roadhog's grip once he's given the allowance to, turning himself around and planting a seat over the thick trapezius not guarded by half a tire and spikes. He secures himself in place by wrapping his fingers around one of the straps affixing Roadhog's harness to him, while the business end of his peg leg hooks into one of the metal carabiners on the front of said harness.

"Not as dairy-dairy," he answers, "but the substitutes are pretty rippah. Coconut milk goes off well in tea. Cheese has been kinda pass-or-fail, depends on which one. Had ta modify me recipes ta suit the butter but that wasn't too hard. Haven't found a yogurt I care fer yet. I think y'll like the ice cream, though. Ya can tell it's different but it's still thick and sweet."

Of course he means ice cream, which is why he saves the best for last.