All of this housework has given me an appetite. Sigyn, my sweet, let us accompany the humans as they dine out tonight.
Wait! What goes on here? The human female mentioned her “favorite dive.” Dive, ocean, seashore– I was expecting seafood. Lobster, crab–or at least some shrimp. But this establishment is a tiny, humble place with a sign that says “Café Centroamericano.”
I have no idea what to expect in here. The humans have been here before and are ordering confidently, and they’re not dead, so it is probably safe to eat what they do.
Ah, the drinks have arrived. Volstagg’s grocery bill! What is this?
The menu says, “liquada de cacahuate,” which is no help at all, though it sounds vaguely familiar.
Wait. Now I remember what “caca” is Midgardian baby talk for, and it is NOT making me want to take a sip…
And here’s the food–it smells appetizing enough… (poke, poke, poke)
…but it’s called a “poo-poosa,” which, along with the “caca” business leads me to believe that there is something other than the advertised pork and cheese inside.
Come on, Sigyn, let’s go eat Chinese.