"I'm concerned that my first thought to that is what you'd name a food truck here," Noriko sighs, giving Hannibal a look somewhere between mild concern, amusement, and horror. "And not that you'd get caught doing it."

She stands, and rolls her ankles in turns, hearing them pop as the theatre empties, the chatter of the other patrons leaving turning into a dull background noise. "I am not eating at a food truck tonight, though."