Yylfordt, despite having used some of his ethnic cuisine to try and gross out his friends, felt the need to defend it now the deed was done. "They're pretty good, actually. You wouldn't know they were balls from the taste."

He paused, and reconsidered that statement. "Not that I'd know, bro," he added. Szayel might, but Yylfordt doubted they tasted alike because Szayel didn't normally eat the still attached kind of testicles smashed flat, dipped in flour, and fried. Not unless whoever he was with was into some seriously kinky shit, anyway.