Possum soup, all nice and thick with peanuts, - Harry Turtledove

He said, “You misunderstand. We did not kill the nuggies and the other folk hereabouts. They see us, and then they commonly die.”
“Of what?” I asked.
“Of embarrassment.

"...all the pools are going batshit like you wouldn't believe.... Batshit... It's a technical term... Fleidermausscheisse, okay?"
Fleidermausscheisse? Kelly silently mouthed the word, and as silently clapped her hands. With a dictionary and patience, she could read scientific German. Thanks to fragments of Yiddish from her folks, she could make a better — not good, but better — stab at speaking it than most of her anglophone peers. But she knew she never would have come up with that particular terminus technicus in a million months of Sundays.

Maybe somebody will come along and be, like, a Tolkien for horror.