Kogane: Yer fond of me lobster aint’ ye? I seen it -- yer fond of me lobster! Say it! Say it. Say it!

Mamimi: I don’t have to say nothing.

Kogane: Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead Tanaka! HAAARK!

Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til’ ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more -- only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin’ tentacle tail and steamin' beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye -- a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself -- forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Tanaka, even any scantling of your soul is Tanakano more, but is now... itself... the sea!

Mamimi: Alright, have it your way. I like your cooking.