Metamorphosism

What am I?

Location: A highway outside Vienna.
Girl: What am I?
Man: You're a girl.
Girl: Come on.
Man: You're my daughter.
Girl: Dad...
Man: A delightful teenaged girl.
Girl: You're not funny.
Man: What?
Girl: What am I?
Man: Waaaa! Not the Guessing Game! Christ, my mind's not up to... it's still early!
Girl: Mwahaha.

Man: Sigh. Are you an animal or were you of animal origin at some point?
Girl: Nuh-uh.
(...)
Man: So you're a processed vegetable product that you don't know what country the vegetable of origin is native to, that could potentially be in our kitchen. What color are you. I mean, are you green?
Girl: Nuh-uh.
(...)
Man: Something made of a vegetable, originally reddish-brown on the outside, white on the inside, okay. You don't taste sweet, sour or salty. Bitter, then?
Girl: Nuh-uh.
Man: Those are the four tastes, child, sweet, sour, salty and bitter. Unless you count monosodium glutamate...
(...)
Man: What? An onion slice? A sliced onion?
Girl: But where am I, exactly?
Man: Where. Hrm.
(...)
Man: Uncle. I give up.
Girl: In a kebab sandwich.
Man: An onion slice in a kebab sandwich. Of course.
Man: Now, what am I? Mwahaha.
Girl: Animal?
Man: Yes.
Girl: Intestinal bacteria?
Man: Which one?
Girl: E. coli?
Man: Ha, but where?
Girl: In an animal?
Man: Which one?
Girl: Politician?
Man: Feh. Who?
Girl: George Bush?
Man: Ha. No.
Girl: Ronald Reagan?
Man: Feh. How do you do it?
Girl: I just know how you think, dad.