Nishizawa shook her head at Alphonse's plans, "Nu, brad ideau", she spoke in her accented english (or ingrish), "Tu meny peopre can be a hurtu iph we gowa ovare oceane desu."

Well, shit. The young Hayabusan girl didn't expect her english to be [i]that[/i] bad, maybe it would be rough around the edges, but right now it was edgier than a crudely-forged gothic katana listening death metal. In a stroke of brilliance, she decided to speak in Japanese. "いいえ、それは悪い考えです。あまりにも多くの人が死ぬことができます。"

Once again, brilliant language skills; not one of Nishizawa's shining skills. Alas, only if she could have her plane speak for her or her brother. Her brother always had been better english (probably to the obscene amounts of old world hollywood and porn movies they had watched). Resigning herself to the fridge, she pulled out some sweet bread she had been saving only to find it half eaten. Some bastard had dcecided to go off and ninja her sweet [s]roll[/s] bread. Glaring angrily into the floor as she took a seat, nibbling on the other half of what remained of her treat as she her the black man who walked into curse louder than the people in [i]Backdoor Hoes 9[/i] did. Once again, he decided to take the long, fast, dangerous route and even comparing America to a big busted women.

Now, she didn't know much, but Nishizawa thought Japan produced the craziest fetishes. Seems like you do learn something new everyday.