<strong>Roberto Eduardo Mendes da Silva</strong><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">NAKAMURA RIKAKO: "I didn't get that. What on earth did you ask for?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/><strong>"You'll see, Naka-Rika-Chica, you wãon't be soorpraeezed,"</strong>I grinned devilishly, and was soon presented with a plate of freshly made chips and a bottle of kethup, as well as a set of Western cutlery. The very polite waitress didn't even present it to me like I'd asked for a dead weasel.<strong>"Aaah, whuat ehlls coowdd I wuahnt from eh faeen Japanes restauwrante,"</strong>I sighed, spearing a chip doused in ketchup on my shiny fork and admiring its golden crispiness. I pushed aside my noodles and smugly devoured my side order with my fork and ketchup. The journey to this restaurant from Rio de Janeiro had been a long one, and finally I wasn't ravenous any more and instead rather full.<strong>"My compleementes to ze chef,"</strong>I grinned at the waitress as she relieved me of the empty plates, and took another glass of the iced tea stuff.