A man with a mustachio arrived at Reid's apartment around six to pick the young doctor up for a dinner date. They pulled into Yaoi-Yuri Restaurant's parking lot fifteen minutes later. The mustachioed man held the door for Reid as they entered, but lo! As Reid glanced around, he soon realized that it was not a restaurant they had entered at all. No. It was Dante's Inferno full of dead, naked sinners and the toxic smoke of an eternal fire! Actually, it was a Japanese strip club.

Reid turned around to leave, but Mr. Mustachio had already called two strippers over. They were blocking the exit, and Reid didn't want to risk contracting a disease by trying to fight his way past them.

"Mmm," the robust red head said. "I've always had a thing for mustaches."

"Mmm," the slim blond said. "And I've always had a thing for children. Especially nerds."

"Sit," Mr. Mustachio said.

"Okay." Reid sat. "Just keep her away from me."

Mr. Mustachio sat opposite Reid as the two dancers giggled and ran back to their poles. Reid glanced at the menu that had been placed before him and quickly realized that he couldn't pronounce any of the items on it. Oh well, because the waiter had already arrived and Mr. Mustachio was ordering for him. That was some fast service!

"So… What would you do for a Klondike Bar?" Reid asked, trying to initiate conversation.

"Definitely one of those strippers over there," Mr. Mustachio replied. "Maybe even you."

"Maybe even me what?" Reid asked in confusion.

"Never mind," Mr. Mustachio replied. "Just know that I like low-fat vanilla."

"That's nice," Reid said.

Maybe they should have gone to an ice cream shop then instead, because although he couldn't read the menu, from what he knew of Japanese restaurants, they did not serve low-fat vanilla ice cream.

Reid swore he heard a loud meow and a slam. Minutes later the meals were served. Reid scanned the table for a fork and knife.

"Excuse me," he squeaked, addressing the waiter. "Where are the dining utensils?"

"Oh no no no, Reid," Mr. Mustachio interjected, waggling his finger. "At big boy strip clubs we use big boy chopsticks."

Mr. Mustachio passed Reid two sticks no bigger than number two pencils.

"You don't understand," Reid cried. "With these I will surely starve!"

Mr. Mustachio didn't look too concerned. "That's probably true. In that case, I'd just have to force feed you."

Mr. Mustachio's eyes twinkled evilly. This was all the motivation Reid needed to pick up the foreign utensils and begin to fling food across the restaurant in various attempts to reach his mouth. The food was definitely leaving the plate quickly, but not much of it was actually ending up in Reid's stomach. Mr. Mustachio opened his mouth and caught a piece of broccoli that had just been launched from Reid's chopsticks.

"See, Reid, this is your problem. You're always so busy feeding everybody else that you forget to eat yourself. Let me eat you for you."

At this, Mr. Mustachio tore off his mustachio. Underneath the disguise was none other than JJ!

"Oh, hi, JJ," Reid said calmly. "Have you seen the handsome hunk with the mustache who was just sitting where you are now?"

JJ slapped the fuzzy mustache back onto her face.

"Oh, there you are!" Reid exclaimed. "Where did JJ go?"

Mr. Mustachio gave Reid an odd look and raised a fuzzy brow.