Mark was feeling very content as he brushed his teeth. The meal at the Mexican restaurant had been one of his favorites of the month.

Tongue had always been a staple in his household when growing up, though his mother tended to get tinned tongue instead of fresh. Fresh was, as it usually is, far superior in texture and taste. Napoleon had admitted to being ambivalent toward eating tongue, claiming he was never quite sure if he was tasting it or it was tasting him - which both Mark and Illya had found hilarious. April had settled for rolling her eyes.