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Ni To Iu Hitokiri: Chapter 7 - Fish

by wombat ::: 26.Jun.2003

[The scene: a small restaurant. Other than the proprietor, it is completely empty except for one customer sitting in a corner and not-so-quietly drinking himself into oblivion between verses of his song. He stops singing for a moment when someone else walks in, ringing the bell attached to the door, but then resumes.]

"Ninety-three bottles of sake to go, ninety-three bottles to go-"

*jingle*

"-Take one jug and give it a chug, ninety-two bottles of sake to go..."

"Irrashaimase! Welcome to the Akai-sakana!" [ = "red fish"]

"Hello there, my good woman."

"What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was wandering aimlessly through Japan and moping about my past sins when suddenly, I came over all peckish."

"Peckish?"

"Esuriant."

"Eh?"

"My stomach felt as empty as an otaku's wallet after AnimeExpo."

"Ah, you're hungry then!"

"In a nutshell. Wherefore as I passed your fine establishment of marine dining, I decided to abandon my self-recrimination for the nonce and embark on a quest for ichthyophagy."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"I'd like to buy some sushi."

"Ah yes, sushi! I thought you were complaining about that drunk guy singing in the corner!"

("Eighty-three bottles of sake to go, eighy-three bottles to go....")

"Heaven forfend; I delight in all manner of emulations of Ame-no-Uzume."

"So he can go on singing, can he?"

"Certainly. Now then, some sushi, if you please."

"Of course. What kind would you like?'

"Hmm, let's see-how about some maguro-temaki?"

"I'm very sorry, but we're fresh out of maguro."

"Never mind then, how about some odoro-ebi?"

"I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir, we get it fresh on Monday."

"Tish tish. No matter. Well, fair maiden, four pieces of gyoza, if you please."

"Er. The wrappers have been on order for two weeks, sir. Was expecting them this morning."

"It's not my lucky day, is it? Inari-zushi?"

"Sorry, sir."

"Futo-maki?"

"Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down."

"Unagi-maki?"

"No."

"Nori-tama?"

"No."

"Oshi-zushi?"

"No."

"Natto-maki? Maki-mono? Hamachi-sashimi?"

"No, I'm afraid we're all out of those."

"I know-- how about unagi no kimoi?"

"Ah! We do have that."

"Excellent! Fetch hither the delectable innards of the noble eel! Mmmmwah!"

"I'm afraid it's a bit runny, sir."

"Oh, that's all right; I like it runny."

"It's a bit runnier than you might like/."

"I don't care how *bleeping* runny it is; hand it over with all speed."

"Very well, sir." (pokes around counter for a bit) "....Er, the cat's eaten it."

"Has he now?"

"She, sir."

("Take one jug and give it a chug, seventy-one bottles of sake to go...")

"Kaiware-maki?"

"No."

"Hotategai-nigiri?"

"No."

"...You do have some sushi here, don't you?"

"Of course, sir; this is a sushi shop. We have-"

"No, don't tell me; I'm keen to guess. Akagi-nigiri?"

"No."

"Ama-ebi?"

"No."

"Hirame?"

"No."

"Tai?"

"Yes?"

"Excellent! I'll have some of that, then!"

"Oh, I'm sorry; I thought you were talking to me. Sekihara Tae, that's my name."

("Sixty-four bottles of sake to go, sixty-four bottles to go...")

"...Ikura?"

"Not as such, sir."

"Mirugai?"

"No."

"Hokki gai?"

"No."

"Ah, I know- how about some California rolls?"

"I'm afraid we never make those around here, sir."

"Never make them around here? They're the single most popular sushi in the world!"

"Not around here, sir."

"And what sort of sushi is the most popular around here?"

"Oshinko-maki."

"Really."

"Oh yes. It's staggeringly popular."

"Very well- 'Have you got any,' he asked, fully expecting the answer 'no.'"

"I'll have a look... nnnnnnnooooo."

"It's not much of a sushi-ya, is it?"

"Finest in the district.!"

"Explain the logic underlying that, if you would be so kind."

"...Well, it's so clean, sir."

"It's certainly uncontaminated by sushi."

"You haven't asked me about fugu."

"Would it be worth the asking?"

"Could be, sir."

("Take one jug and give it a chug, forty-six bottles of sake to go...")

"Have you-" (completely loses it for a second) "WOULD YOU SHUT THAT BLOODY KARAOKE UP!!!!"

(From the corner, Sano flips him the bird and gently slides under the table.)

"Told you, sir."

(takes several deep breaths to regain calm) "Have you got any fugu?"

"No."

"Figures. Predictable, really. It was an act of purest optimism to have posed the question in the first place. Tell me something-"

"Yes sir?"

"Do you have in fact any sushi here at all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Really?"

"...No, not really. I was deliberately wasting your time."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to go Battousai on you."

(hastily) "But I could whip up something for you on the spot! The local specialty, you'll love it!"

"You don't say."

(produces a plate from a supersonic whirl of hands and rice) "Here you go, sir."

(momentarily appeased) "Excellent! Itadakimasu!" (takes a bite) "...Er, what is this, exactly?"

"Well, sir, you may have noticed that we're a bit inland from the seashore..."

"...?"

"And the big 'Aloha' sign over the door..."

"...?"

"And how the picture of our 'red fish' looks kinds of rectangular..."

"...?"

"Actually, we specialize in the favorite Hawaiian mutation of sushi: spam musubi! Though I could also make some lovely spam nigiri, spam maki, spam gunkan, spam shioyaki, spam temaki, spam tempura, spam donburi, msio soup with spam, spam-katsu, cold soba with dipping sauce and spam, deep-fried spam skins stuffed with rice and spam, spam teriyaki, thin spam omelets wrapped around steamed spam....."

[Some random Vikings descend from the ceiling, singing lustily. Sano wakes back up and starts to accompany them with total lack of harmony. Further deponent sayeth not.]

("Twenty-eight riceballs of spam on the wall, twenty-eight riceballs of spam....")