"Very good," the dark skinned Indonesian waiter replied as he scurried back to the kitchen.
It still took half an hour for the appetizers to arrive. Scott chewed up three straws and tore two napkins into shreds while waiting.
"What is this," asked Scott as he voraciously dove into the food.
"Does it matter?"
"No," Scott bit into it. "Mmmmmmm . . .Holy shit, that's good, what is it?"
"Goat parts," the Spook said with a straight face.
Scott stopped chewing. "Which goat parts?" he mumbled staring over the top of his round glasses.
"The good parts," said the Spook taking two big bites. "Only the good parts."
"It's nothing like, eyeballs, or lips or . . ." Scott was gross- ing himself out.
"No, no, paysan, eat up. It's safe." The Spook made the Italian gesture for eating. "Most of the time." The Spook chuckled as he ravaged the unidentifiable goat parts on his plate.