GOLDFISH MENTION
>You're a Japanese customs agent
>All you've done for the past week is dump foreigners missing one or more limbs into planes since the Paralympics is over
>One last flight for the day before you can go home to your luxurious two tatami Tokyo apartment that you share with your mother
>As you stand next to the baggage checking x-ray machine you see the two pilots and the flight attendants quickly rush past you, clearly in some sort of panic and their faces paler than that quadriplegic Norweigan girl you shoved in the overhead compartment that morning
>You realize it must be deadly serious, as they didn't even return your 'otsukare', which they're legally obligated to do
>And it isn't long before you finally come face to face with the cause of their distraught visages, as a looming shadow makes its way towards you, parting the other cowering passengers like the Red Sea.
>'SUP DUDE, DID YA NEED ME TO LEAVE MY GIVENCHYS IN THE TRAY OR CAN I LEAVE THEM ON?'
>You barely register the unintelligible and barbaric words coming from the giant's mouth, since your attention is completely transfixed on her head.
>But you must be mistaken, there's no way an adult would actually wear a cap with horns on it.
>Whilst you were distracted, she stepped through the x-ray machine and put her enormous carry on bag into the baggage checking machine.
>At some point fear gives way to trained instinct and you glance at the screen, only for it to leave you even more mentally adrift than before.
>The only things she has in her carry on baggage are an assortment of plushies being crushed under the weight of dozens of bags of smuggled goldfish snacks.
>'HA HA YEAH I SAW THAT I WASN'T MEANT TO BRING IN FOOD BUT I FIGURED THAT WAS JUST FOR FRUIT AND SHIZ, GOLDFISH SNACKS ARE COOL RIGHT?'
>They're not, of course, but who are you to dare stand against the Goliath of Goldfish? You're merely Daichi, after all, not David.
