“Yuck! You’re not going to eat that, are you, Brad?”
“Brenda, when you travel to another country, you must immerse yourself into their culture. Besides, look — there are only a couple of these left. They must be popular.”
Using chopsticks, Brad plopped a yellow, frothy, gelatinous mass onto his plate and walked back to their table. In one scoop he shoved it into his mouth and grimaced slightly.
A commotion erupted from behind the counter and the kitchen’s owner shouted in Chinese.
“What’s all that about, Brenda?”
“Oh, his son left some rare, poisonous tree slugs on the counter and one of them is missing.”